Page 82 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
“How strong is your stomach?” he asks Lauren, and she quickly shakes her head, still grinning.
“Not strong at all. Why?”
“You?” he asks Kieran, ignoring her.
Kieran puffs his chest and quickly proclaims, “Stronger than steel,” and without any further ado, Caleb steps closer to him and leans down. Then he throws Kieran over his shoulder like he weighs nothing.
"Don't you dare throw up on me."
“Oh my God!” Kieran exclaims, arms flailing. “Why is the world upside down?”
“Damn, that’s sexy,” Lauren says, with wide eyes and mouth agape.
“Hold on to my arm,” Caleb demands roughly, and she skips over to his side with a wide grin, hugging his arm tightly to her chest.
“Take your phone flashlight and make some light,” he directs her, and she does as he says. Meanwhile, I’m wondering where he learned to manage drunk people this well.
“One day, you’re going to make an amazing dad,” I tell him with a grin, and he shoots me a glare.
“Goodnight, everyone,” I say and give them a wave, slowly maneuvering Nic up to her house.
“Night, night!” Lauren singsongs, while Kieran shoots us a grin and an upside-down wave.
I’m not saying Wayward Hollow was boring before the three of them moved here, but it’s gotten one hell of a lot more entertaining since they did.
Chapter 33
Nic
“Your house is cute!” I say as I walk in. Thanks to Cinnamon and Pumpkin, our hangouts have been happening mainly at my place—they’re not quite as easy to take along and are not nearly as happy about it as Jensen, so it made the most sense.
A house is the best reflection of a person, and I was more than curious about Henry’s. And what can I say? It’s very close to what I expected. A simple, modern cabin style with solid wood furniture and a lovely, light ambience.
“Thank you,” he says with a sheepish smile, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and I can’t help but grin. He’s nervous about having me here.
He’s adorable when he’s nervous.
He leads me to his living room. It’s so cozy. So homey. So …him. It has an effortless kind of comfort—as if every single part of it was chosen carefully, picked intentionally over time.
It is all warm wood tones, and one entire wall is made of glass, somewhat similar to my living room, only his faces the forest instead of a lake. Golden light spills through the trees, and I can see a movement in one of the forests bushes a few feet away from his window front—maybe the wind, maybe a bunny, maybe a killer. Who knows?
“Oh God. Just imagine you look out there and suddenly see glowing yellow eyes,” I shudder and Henry bursts into laughter.
“The same could happen at your place.”
“Nope,” I tease him, lifting my chin and glance up at him with fake defiance. “I’ve got a free view of the lake. No animals can sneak up to my home without me seeing. But this here”—I make a vague motion to his glass wall—“is basically an invitation for the big bad wolf.”
“Good thing Jensen will protect me,” Henry chuckles, and I lean against him happily as we watch the sun set. Through the window’s reflection, my eyes scan the rest of his living room, too curious to focus on nature’s daily spectacle.
There is a stone fireplace and shelves lining the other walls stuffed with books on animal anatomy and photography. There’s a gallery wall opposite it, with all kinds of images framed in simple wooden and a few golden-painted frames.
Curiously, I step out of his arms, walking closer to get a clearer view.
The first one that catches my eye is a portrait of Jensen. Golden light makes him radiate like an angel, his eyes closed with bliss, and I could swear he’s smiling. It screamsserenity, the perfect image to show how at peace Jensen is with Henry.
The second one is of him and Jensen. They’re posing in front of a mountain backdrop in the distance. Henry’s kind face contains a bright smile as he kneels next to his dog, who’s gazing up at him like he hung the moon.
The third one is of a mountainscape that seems familiar. But the trees are covered in snow, reflecting light off the rising sun and painting the whole scenery a lovely pink.
