Page 30 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
“Be careful she doesn’t relieve herself in it,” I warn him, but he shrugs.
“Trust me, I’ve found shit in worse places.” A giggle falls from my lips when he grimaces.
“Thanks for that visual.” I giggle and watch him curiously as he sits down in one of my armchairs.
“Sorry about before,” I say, trying not to cringe. “I hate being caught mid-spiral. I swear, I’m totally normal. Just, y’know, under a very specific set of conditions involving sleep, snacks, and no screaming cats.”
“Ah, what’s normal?” He shrugs, fishes the cat out of his hoodie, and lets her climb over him instead. “Once in college, I pulled an all-nighter to finish a paper. The next day I ended up in the wrong lecture and sleep-deprived me thought the whole world switched to Spanish and only I missed the memo.” He scratches the back of his neck and shoots me a sheepish grin. “In comparison, ordering three espresso shots and looking a little unhinged while doing so is pretty normal.”
I tilt my head and stare at him. “No, I can’t picture it. You seem so”—I make broad gestures at him—“put together. I don’t buy it.”
“Thank you, I think?” He chuckles and catches the kitten before she walks right off the armchair. “You can’t fly, you little idiot,” he says lovingly. Jensen shoots him a disapproving glare and then demonstratively puts his head into my lap as if he’s saying,“if you replace me, I’m replacing you with her.”
“I think your dog is jealous.”
“He’s a drama queen.” The dog lets out a deep sigh. “Speaking of—” He grabs the kitten right as she is about to test her non-existent flight abilities again. “I think you should name her.”
My eyes jump from Henry to the orange kitten in his hand, and I bite my lip as thoughts and worries fly through my head quicker than hummingbirds on a mission.
Can I get attached now? But what if she dies after all? What if she runs away? What if—
“Hey.”
I look at Henry, who gets up, shooing Jensen off the couch, and takes his place next to me, then gently places the kitten in my lap.
“She’s okay. In fact, she’s doing great. There is no more chance of her …” He clears his throat. “Disappearing than there is of lightning striking your house.”
My eyes are firmly on the little creature as she turns around herself. She loses her footing on my thigh and protests with a weakmeowwhen I pick her up.
“For all we know, she might outliveyou. What if a meteor strikes you tomorrow?" My eyes narrow when he throws my words back into my face. How dare he use my logic against me? "Do you think that means she should never get attached?”
Biting my lip, I gulp past the emotions building in my throat.
“I hate that you’re making sense,” I whisper, feeling his body shake with stifled laughter. “You’re one hundred percent sure? She’s out of the woods.”
“I am,” he assures me. “Trust me.”
I hold my breath, and all of a sudden, all the racing thoughts in my mind, all the worries, the self-doubts, they go … silent.
Blissfully silent.
Because I do. I trust him. He might not be much more than a stranger, but my heart tells me it’s okay. He’s safe.
Tears form in my eyes as I exhale and watch the little creature still playing in my lap.
“Pumpkin,” I whisper, the word barely making it past my lips as I choke up. “I’ll call her Pumpkin.”
“That’s a good name,” he declares. Silence settles as the sun sets over the mountains on the other side of the lake, the air thick with my emotions. The heat from Henry’s arm on the backrest, his body brushing mine, surrounds me like a blanket—soft, steady, and safe. Like I can do this.
From the corner of my eye, I can see him watching me, his eyes darting over my face curiously, as if he’s trying to figure something out.
I want to turn to him. I don’t even know why. All I know is that I want to look at him, too. At his kind face, the small crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes, that strand of hair that keeps falling into his face—
Awoo-woo!
And in the blink of an eye, the tension is gone, and I burst into a giggle that I unsuccessfully try to hide behind my hand.
“Not now, Jensen—this is emotional,” Henry scolds his dog, but leans down and scratches his head.
