Oh, Naughty Night!

He gestured toward her glass. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems you’re full-up. How’s the special?”

“Remember the taste of kids’ cherry-flavored cough syrup?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That tasted better.”

“Think I’ll stick to beer.”

“Good choice,” she said. “I like your costume.”

He glanced down at his loose cotton T-shirt and those wickedly worn jeans. “Guy next door?”

Huh. Funny. “I meant the ghost. Why’d you take it off?”

“I’m not so great with scissors. I cut the eye holes too small and couldn’t see where the hell I was going.”

She laughed. Chaz had never had much hand-eye coordination. But she’d bet he could do some utterly amazing things with those hands now, and the heavily-lashed green eyes were enough to make a girl melt.

“Still a fan of the homemade costume, huh?”

“My mother would kill me if I got a store-bought one.”

Yeah. She remembered. Their moms had coordinated outfits every holiday, though they couldn’t always please everybody. One year, when she’d wanted to be Sailor Moon, she’d had to go as a stupid Power Ranger instead because it was Chaz’s favorite show. She’d even had to be the yellow ranger, since his spoiled sister had called dibs on the pink one.

She’d repaid him by stealing every one of the chocolate bars from his trick-or-treat bag and replacing them with raisins.

Lord, she’d been such a little terror.

Chaz hadn’t been the only one with a pesky younger sibling—her brother was his sister’s age. The four of them had grown up together, squabbling, competing. It hadn’t been all-out war, though, until their siblings started dating in high school—and then had a messy breakup. She wasn’t sure Lawrence had ever got over Sarah dumping him. But that had happened after Chaz had left home. He might not even realize that his sister was a heartbreaking butthead.

“I had no time to figure out something more elaborate,” he explained. “I only decided to come here about an hour ago.”

“That’s some serious last-minute costume design,” she said.

“Hey, cut me some slack. I just got back into town this morning after a long overseas trip. I hadn’t even remembered it was Halloween until I got home and saw the decorations. Good thing I had a clean sheet in my linen closet.”

“And good thing it was plain white and didn’t have Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles all over it.”

He barked a laugh, raising a brow, as if surprised she’d remembered those sheets or those turtles he’d been so obsessed with.

“I think I’ve outgrown my mutant turtle days.”

“Strictly into human ninjas now, huh?”

His eyes twinkled. “Yeah, that’s it. Unfortunately, I haven’t found a California-king sheet set with little black-cloaked ninja dudes on them.”

Mmm. Big bed. For a big guy. With big hands. And a big...

“I’m afraid I’m stuck with boring, non-decorative sheets.”

She swallowed and forced her mind back to light small talk and away from thoughts of his sheets. Or his bed. Him in his bed... “I’ll keep an eye out for ninjas for you. Unless you’d prefer Transformers.”

“Nah, I’m good.” He grinned and the earth rocked a bit. “Though, if you see black satin, let me know. I might be tempted to play ninja.”

She gulped, wondering when on earth he’d gotten so damned confident. He was easygoing, sexy, masculine and totally comfortable in a room full of people. No longer the male wallflower, the kid whose shoelaces were tied together by bullies, or who got picked last for the baseball team because he’d dropped a fly ball and lost the big game in fourth grade.

No. He was all sexy, powerful, enticing, grown-up man. And she just had no idea what to think about that.

“You must be awfully tired,” Viv said, interjecting herself into the playful conversation. “After traveling all day.”

Funny, Lulu had almost forgotten she was there. Amelia, too. Chaz, while offering the other two women a polite smile, hadn’t paid a moment of attention to either of them. That made Lulu feel better—her old childhood nemesis/friend hadn’t come over merely to get Lulu to introduce him to Viv, who usually cast other females in the shade. Lulu wasn’t sure whether it was because Viv was so beautiful, or because she was such a stone-cold bitch to most men that they felt challenged to break through the ice. Her costume, a sexy devil, seemed more than a little appropriate. As did Amelia’s, who was dressed as a cute rag doll, complete with a yarn wig she’d made herself using supplies from her craft shop.

Hmm. She wondered if Chaz would say she, too, was appropriately costumed for her personality.

“I guess I am tired,” he admitted.

“I’ll say. Sounds like all you can think of is your bed,” Viv said, her smile still knowing, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

Chaz didn’t nibble at the bait. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice he was being flirted with. “I probably shoulda crashed, but I was in need of some American holiday fun. There’s not a single piece of candy corn in Pakistan. So I decided to come out to combat the jet lag.”

“And eat candy corn?” Lulu asked, unhappy Viv was working her vixen magic on her old friend. Well, her old something.

“Exactly. Have any on you?”

“I’m all out. I guess you’ll have to trick-or-treat through the neighborhood on your way home.”

“I forgot my sack.”

“Then you’re just out of luck.”

He sighed. “Day late and a treat short. Story of my life.”

Yeah. Because of mean girls who stole his candy bars.

She didn’t bring that up, though. No point reminding him of her antics if there was any chance in hell he’d forgotten them.

As if. That’d be like Batman forgetting the Joker’s antics. Once an arch nemesis, always an arch nemesis.

Not that she’d ever really considered Chaz her nemesis, arch or otherwise. But he might have one or two reasons to think she was. Including a crooked tailbone.

“Well, pull up a chair and join us,” said Viv, scooting over to make room for him. She cast Lulu a piercing look, waiting for her to officially introduce them.

She was about to, but he cut her off.

“Actually, I just wanted to see if you’d like to dance,” he said, staring down at Lulu, his gaze wavering between friendly and intense. She had to wonder if he, too, had been shocked by the changes nine years had wrought. She didn’t much resemble the stringy-haired, braces-wearing seventeen-year-old he probably remembered from his high school graduation party. The one when she’d pushed him into the swimming pool, fully clothed, because he’d called her flat-chested.

To be fair, she had been a late bloomer. Of course, he hadn’t really needed to point that out in front of all their friends and family.