Page 95 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
I finally found my place.
Andwhile some wounds will take a very long time to heal, there’s no better place for that than Wayward Hollow, right here by Henry’s side.
Epilogue
Nic
“Oh my God, it smells like something is burning.” Lauren sprints past me to the kitchen right as the doorbell rings, a panicked singsong on her lips. “Don’t burn, don’t burn, please don’t buuuurn!”
“One second!” I shout toward the hallway. Now where is …? Ah. Pumpkin is sprinting toward the couch, and I run after her, quickly scooping her up and making my way to the door while keeping her in a tight hold. “Sorry to make you wait, but this little menace has turned into an escape artist,” I say with a grin, greeting Kieran with a hug, Caleb with a happy nod, and finally, my boyfriend with a kiss.
“Is something burning?” Kieran asks immediately, and I shrug, trying to keep Pumpkin from wriggling out of my hold. He’s holding a pie dish, and I can’t help but try to take a peek at what he brought to our Friendsgiving. I think it’s an apple pie. Nice.
“I don’t think so, but Lauren just stormed to the kitchen, so …”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Caleb mutters and immediately brushes past me, folding up his sleeves.
“Chaotic afternoon?” Henry asks with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and I nod, not able to avert my eyes from his lips.
“A tiny little bit,” I say with a flirty grin. I kick the door closed behind him and set down Pumpkin before I walk up to him. My hands wander up his arms until I interlace my fingers behind his neck. “But what else is new?” I ask in a whisper, and he amusedly shakes his head.
“True,” he mumbles and leans down for a short kiss full of smiles before I let him go again and gently pat his shoulder.
“Go on inside. I’ll be right there.” But first, I get on my knees to greet my favorite husky. “Are you hungry already, my little hero?” I ask him in a baby voice, catching Henry staring at me from the corner of my eye. “What are you looking at?”
“Just you. On your knees,” he shoots me a wink, and my cheeks flush. “It’s hot.”
“You’re very hot from this angle too,” I admit, wiggling my eyebrows. “Maybe we should revisit this conversation later.”
He leans down, lifting my chin for one devouring kiss before he tears himself away with a sexy smile, winking at me over his shoulder as he continues to the kitchen.“Damn. Your owner’s going to be the death of me,” I whisper to Jensen and lean my forehead against his. He lets out one of his signature awoo-woos.
When I go to the kitchen, with Jensen following close behind, I find Lauren leaning her elbows on the kitchen island, watching Caleb with narrowed eyes and a pout on her face as he has taken over the stove.
“Everything was going fine,” she says, annoyance in her voice. “I swear I can cook.”
“Sure you can,” Caleb says over his shoulder placatingly, and I stop Lauren from reaching for an apple to throw at his head.
“God forbid I want a little crisp aroma to my mashed potatoes,” she mumbles under her breath and crosses her arms in front of her chest.
“Mashed potatoes aren’t supposed to be crispy,” Kieran feels compelled to add, ducking right as she throws a tangerine at him.
“The recipe I’m using is begging to differ. And they’re my mashed potatoes. If you’re mean to me, I won’t share.” She narrows her eyes at him, and he lifts his hands in a defensive gesture as he puts the tangerine back where she took it from.
“Of course, I mean, what an interesting concept.” Sarcasm is dripping from his voice, and the grin on his face is only a tad too wide to be taken seriously.
Lauren opens her mouth to retort, but I quickly change the topic before this Friendsgiving ends in a fight about mashed potatoes.
“How’s the turkey coming along?”
We’ve never really celebrated Thanksgiving with our families, so this is the first time Lauren and I have set out to make a whole-ass turkey from scratch. Well, minus the raising a turkey, slaughtering it, plucking its feathers, and removing the organs. We spent days obsessing over recipes, watching tutorials on how to properly cook a turkey and what common mistakes to avoid. Hell, I even bought a meat thermometer. I printed out the recipe, stuck it to my fridge with a magnet, and we followed it meticulously, step by step, along with a video tutorial.
“Let me check,” Henry says, giving my ass a quick squeeze as he walks past me, much to Lauren’s amusement.
“Get a room,” she whispers, and I only stick out my tongue at her.
“Honestly? It’s looking good,” Henry says, after sticking the thermometer into the bird. He’s much less squeamish about that than Lauren and I—one of the many perks of dating a vet.
“You sound surprised.” I narrow my eyes at him, and he quickly lifts his hands in surrender.
