Page 75 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
The exact way he makes me feel.
His focused face breaks into a wide smile when he hits the target.
“Oh my God, well done you.”
I bite my lip, shooting him a grin as he picks out a teddy bear for me. The poor thing is worn out as if it has already survived a war. But somehow, that makes him even more lovable.
He hands it to me with a proud little grin and holds out his hand, expecting me to take it so we can keep walking. Instead, I bypass it entirely and slip my arm around his waist, cuddling the battle-worn bear against my side as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
“Thank you,” I whisper and stretch my neck, lips pursed for a kiss. He happily obliges, his lips sending a jolt of buzzing electricity through my whole body. The smile he shoots me afterward makes my face burn.
God, I think I love this man.
The air cackles between us as our eyes lock, his hold around my waist tightening, when suddenly Lauren appears from behind a pumpkin tower.
“Nic, Nic, Nic!” she whisper-shouts with worry in her eyes and quickly pushes the three of us past a wall of hay bales behind a craft stand.
“Lauren, Lauren, Lauren!” I whisper-shout back, confused, but she shakes her head quickly, her expression almost panicked.
“They’re here,” she says ominously, glancing over her shoulder, scared we’re being followed, and I lift my eyebrow at her. Jensen is relaxed though, so I doubt Jay is around.
“Who are ‘they?’” Henry asks, and I shrug, equally confused.
“What are you talking about, Lauren? We knew Jay and Marissa would be here,” I point out, but she shushes me, carefully peeking around the hay.
“I’m not talking about Jay and Marissa. I’m talking about your parents.”
The words hit me harder than a punch to the sternum. My heart falters, and I turn to stare at Lauren. Suddenly, the air is molasses, and my lungs are tight, as if the air is too heavy to breathe.
My mouth opens, but my brain can’t form a single word. Something sharp presses into my chest, a weight I thought I’d left behind creeping back in. I blink, trying to steady myself, but all I manage is a quiet, shaken stare.
“What?” Henry asks, and I nod. That’s exactly what I’d love to know, too. What the actual fuck?
“Marissa must have told them.” Lauren starts pacing, nibbling at her thumbnail.
“Great,” I say and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Then again, I can’t even be surprised,” I mumble, making the two of them turn to me, eyes wide with surprise.
“Jay knew how hard I fought for their approval,” I tell them with a nonchalant shrug, trying to hide how badly he hit a spot that still hurts much more than I want to admit. “He witnessed it firsthand, listened to all my self-doubts. If they want to hit me whereit hurts, why wouldn’t they involve my parents?” I lay my head back, gazing at the clear autumn sky for a moment. “God, I hate them.”
Henry gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Their presence doesn’t change anything about our plan,” Lauren says decidedly and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Remember, Nic. They’re air. They’re nothing to you. And you are so much more than your birth givers’ approval.”
“Thanks, Lauren,” I say with a small smile. “This came from left field, but thank you for warning me. I’m 95 percent sure the rest will happen exactly as we think. This is only a small, unwelcome surprise.”
“Well then, until their little plan turns into action”—her eyes dart from Henry to me. When they land on the teddy bear in my hand and his arm around my hip, her expression softens—“have a fun date.”
“We will,” I assure her, and the smile on my face finally turns genuine.
Henry’s arm is a protective reminder around my shoulders as we continue to walk through the autumn fair. With each step, I understand better and better why Wayward Hollow prides themselves on it.
It’s fun. There’s barely anyone without a smile on their face. The vendors are chatting with customers, handing out warm drinks and sweet treats.
Visitors wander from stand to stand, holding cider or cotton candy, while kids run around with painted faces and sticky fingers. The air smells of cinnamon, warm apples and roasted nuts, and there’s soft music playing from a speaker somewhere. Everything is warm and alive, like the whole town showed up just to be happy for a while, resembling a small-town Disneyland.
“We should carve a pumpkin,” Henry suggests with a chuckle as we walk past the tables where children are throwing pumpkin seeds at each other. He holds Jensen’s leash tighter as he perks up at the scent of potential food.
“Later,” I say with a grin, nodding toward the sticky residue on the benches and where a girl is massaging pumpkin gunk into a boy’s hair. “I don’t think I can be trusted with a knife right now.”
