Page 36 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
Chapter 12
Henry
“Anyway, I’m thinking of getting pet chickens. I will call them Chick Jagger, Cluck Norris, and Lady MacBeth.”
“Hmm,” I answer, but truthfully, Kieran’s voice goes in one ear and out the other as my eyes trail after Nic and Lauren entering Caleb’s. She seems better today, now that color has returned to her face. Well-rested and a lot less crazed than the last time I saw her at the café.
I haven’t stopped thinking about our dinner a few days ago. I can’t.
About her laugh when Jensen ran against her window and left a mark on the glass. Or that smile on her face as we talked over her new kitten care and watched Pumpkin try to climb out of her box. That little flinch when Pumpkin screamed particularly loud.
Theway she looked at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice. Those contemplative wrinkles scrunching on her forehead as she rolled over thoughts that I’m dying to know more about.
“I’m thinking of livestreaming their fights. One of them will get little boxing gloves, and I’ll give the other a gun and take bets on who will win. I bet it’s tough for a chicken to pull a trigger, but my money would still be on them.”
“Sure.” The door closes behind the two, and I shake my head as if waking up from a dream once they’re out of sight. “Wait, what?”
“Ah, there you are.” Kieran chuckles and even Jensen eyes me as though he’s trying to say, “Dude, you’re ridiculous. Pull yourself together.” Kieran found me playing with Jensen in the town square and making the best of my lunch break. Though I quickly got distracted from his chatter as soon as I saw Nic and Lauren walk by.
“You want to shoot chickens?”
“Nope. I wanted to see how far I could push this without you noticing while you gawked at the town’s celebs.” I quickly turn my head away from Caleb’s, heat creeping into my cheeks. Was I that obvious?
“On second thought, it does sound fun.” I shoot him a sharp glare and lift my eyebrow, making him backpedal quickly. “Getting chickens and giving them ridiculous names, not giving them guns. Don’t give me that look.”
“With you, I just never know.” I shake my head, half laughing as Kieran shoots me a knowing smile.
“The only thing I’m hearing is that you have a lot of faith in me,” he jokes and shoots me a wink. “You know what? I’m suddenly craving coffee.” Before I can stop him, he takes Jensen’s leash out of my hand. And like the little traitor my dog is, he trots right alongside Kieran across the street, tail wagging and all.
“What are you—” I try to object, but he merely lifts a hand in a lazy wave and throws me a smug grin over his shoulder.
“We’re going to hang out with your crush,” he says in a singsong voice. I lean my head back, exhaling a deep sigh toward the sky before I follow them. That guy sure is keeping me on my toes.
Not that I’m complaining too much. I’m all for the quiet life, the expected. Maybe it’s not the worst thing that Kieran shakes those things up, with a grin on his lips and mischief on his mind.
Bythe time I catch up, they’ve already crossed the street and are walking right toward Caleb’s front door, held open by Mr. Peterson, who’s cradling his daily afternoon pastry and paper cup containing a black coffee with an extra espresso shot.
“Thanks, Bobby,” Kieran chirps, and I offer Mr. Peterson a smile as I pass. “Aw, man, what a crowd!” Kieran groans dramatically, sweeping his arm across the room like we’ve entered Coachella during a Lady Gaga performance. I lower my head, debating whether to pretend I don’t know him. Then again, he’s taken my dog hostage. There’s no escape.
It’s not even crowded today. There are at least two free tables. But he continues with the same amount of drama, “Where should we sit?”
“Kieran,” I hiss in warning, but he’s already at the girls’ table, interrupting their conversation.
“Hey, ladies, mind if we join you?”
The two look up at Kieran with amused smiles as they scoot toward the window on their bench seats.
“Of course not,” Lauren says, already reaching for my dog with a wide grin. “My boy Jensen is always welcome. How are you doing, you handsome, furry creature?” she coos, launching into conversation with him as he responds with a string of his signature whines. It’s fair to say their adoration is mutual.
Kieran scoots onto the bench down next to Nic, shooting me a subtle wink.
“Hey,” I say much more awkwardly as I take a seat beside Lauren. Nic offers a small smile, lowering her gaze to the table, but even that is enough to send the butterflies in my stomach on a mission. From the corner of my eye, I watch Lauren try unsuccessfully to bite back a grin while still cooing at Jensen.
Kieran puts his chin in his palms, leaning his elbows on the table as his eyes keep darting between Nic and Lauren, his questions all but written over his face. He might be a lot of things—a good friend, handsome—butsubtlecertainly isn’t one of them.
“Just go for it, Kieran,” Lauren snickers, then lifts her gaze to meet his eyes, amusement written all over her face, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. “But for every question you ask, I get to ask one about your job, too.”
“My jo—” Kieran’s eyes widen, and his mouth drops when he sees her knowing grin. He catches himself quickly, then leans over the table and hisses, “How the hell do you know? Did that witch from the antique store tell you? I swear she’s been looking at me funny when I see her in town.”
