Page 94 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
The sound pulls my lips into a grin. It’s low and hearty and about my favorite sound in the world.
Once the movie ends, we stay the way we were, cuddled up and enjoying each other’s presence while the flames crackle in the fireplace. Cinnamon is cuddled into my lap and Pumpkin into the crease of my elbow, and Chaos is a warm presence on my shoulder. Jensen has his head on Henry’s knee, eyes closed as Henry runs his fingers through the fur on his head. Our little family.
“I have something for you,” Henry says suddenly, his voice soft but tinged with something that makes me blink my eyes open and glance up at him.
“It’s not even my birthday,” I murmur, brow furrowing as I push myself up to meet his gaze.
“I know,” he says with a grin, but there’s a flicker of nerves behind it that makes me pause.
Myhead tilts. “Why do you sound as if you’re about to confess you secretly adopted a goat in my name?”
“No goat,” he assures me and leans over the edge of the couch, finding something in his backpack he brought along that holds a change of clothes for tomorrow. I’m still nervous about staying here alone, especially at night.
Even though my door is in relatively good shape, no thanks to Jay, I ordered a new one, and Henry ordered about seven hundred additional locks. Until they arrive, though, he has insisted on staying at my place, and I can’t say I’m opposed to that.
It’s also a little scary, though. Because I might get used to it.
But now he’s not pulling clothes out of his backpack. No, it’s a photo album.
I blink at him, confusion tugging my brows together as I notice his fingers trembling ever so slightly when he hands it to me.
“Thank you,” I say slowly, turning it over in my hands. It comes out more as a question than a thanks.
“I just thought …” he starts, mumbling as he rubs the back of his neck, his gaze darting around the room. He makes a move to pull his arm from around my shoulders, but I shake my head and tighten my grip, keeping him right where he is.
“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask gently. “You’re acting like you handed me a cursed ring, and now I’m going to turn into a frog.”
His laugh is short, but I catch the anxiety still flickering behind his smile. Why is he that nervous?
“So … I know that sometimes you struggle with cutting contact with your parents and, you know, with everything that happened,” he explains softly. I open the first page, and when I see the first picture, a small gasp falls from my lips. Emotions form a knot in my throat.
“And I thought you should have an album with memories and little reminders that you have a new family here who love you and will always be here for you.”
“Henry,” I say, my voice breaking as I flip through the pages.
There are pictures of Lauren and me, smiling at each other while deep in a conversation at Caleb’s. Of me asleep on the couch, with Jensen, Cinnamon, and Pumpkin cuddled against me.
There are images of all of us hanging out at Caleb’s and a selfie Henry and I took by the lake. I study a picture he must have snuck during our bonfire—his face prominent in front as he’s taking the selfie. The rest of us behind him, completely oblivious, sipping on our beer and enjoying a carefree evening.
“Henry,” I whisper again, glancing up at him with glossy eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you love it.”
I nod, tears overflowing. “I love it.” I turn to him and cradle his face in my palms. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispers, and I bury one of my hands in his hair, pulling him close for a kiss that I hope conveys the tsunami of emotions threatening to drown me.
What did I do to deserve him?
When he breaks the kiss, there is so much love shining in his eyes, such a radiant happiness on his face, that it’s almost making me cry even harder.
I might have thought Chaos was a bad omen, a sign from the universe telling me that everything will only get way worse.
But it turns out, she was the turning point of my life changing for the better. I hear a purr right next to my ear, and I never wished quite as much as I do now that I was able to hug her.
“Thank you, Chaos,” I whisper.
Henry glances at me, confusion written all over his face, but I shake my head.
