Page 79 of Three Pucking Words
I nod even though my stomach still feels heavy from the truth I haven’t admitted to him. “I can see why parents are so tired all the time. She has a lot of energy.”
He chuckles. “She does. She’s usually a little more laid back when we’re at home, but this is her favorite time of year.”
My smile comes easily. “Mine too.”
He looks at me briefly before dipping his head once, as if he’s letting that soak in. His eyes go back to the road. “You do realize you’ll have to come carve pumpkins with us now. Gemma won’t allow us to do hers unless everyone is there who picked out a pumpkin.”
The one I chose is small and cute compared to the ones everybody else picked. I’m not sure there’s even enough room to carve anything cool out of it. “I’ll have to figure out when I’m free in my busy schedule,” I joke.
He grins. “You should know that Gemma will pretty much tell you what to carve. I haven’t been able to make a choice on what my pumpkin looks like in the past two years. She alsochooses which candles go inside, which are always hot pink. Not exactly scary.”
I laugh lightly. “Sounds like her, though.”
“She has fun with it,” he agrees. “So, what do you say? Will you come over and do pumpkins with us? I make pumpkin snickerdoodles after we’re done, and let Gem have way too much candy, so it should be fun.”
“Is now a bad time to tell you I’m not a fan of pumpkin flavored anything? I know, I know. I fail at being a stereotypical millennial girl who loves pumpkin flavored coffee. I also never owned a pair of Uggs or danced to “Cotton-Eyed Joe” at any middle school dance.”
Mostly because I didn’t attend any dances, but I doubt I’d be coordinated enough to follow along anyway.
Bodhi’s tongue clucks as his smile spreads. It meets his eyes, making them glimmer. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
I hum. “I really should be.”
“You never answered me,” he points out after a minute of silence. “I’d love to have you. I won’t make you eat the pumpkin snickerdoodles. I can make a regular batch just for you. No pumpkin added.”
“That seems a little excessive,” I reply easily.
“I like baking,” he reminds me. “I may even start my sourdough journey. My dad jokes are getting better, so naming the loaves something punny should be easy.”
I roll my eyes. “You would.”
He waits expectantly, making me realize I still haven’t given him an answer. “I’ll come carve pumpkins. No cookies necessary. Although, I do like that you think food is an easy bribe to get me to do what you want.”
“Isn’t food the way to everybody’s heart?” he counters skeptically.
“Is it the key toyours?”
The thoughtful noise he makes is long and drawn out. “Food, hockey, pretty ladies. I suppose I’m not picky.”
“So if a pretty lady showed up to your house in full hockey gear holding a tray of cookies, you’d propose marriage right then and there?” I ask sarcastically.
His eyes meet mine for only a brief moment, but there’s a flash of something in them I can’t quite read. “If that’s your way of volunteering, I may have to start ring shopping.”
Oh my God.
My heart gallops at the thought.
“Unfortunately for you,” I tell him, looking out the window and ignoring the burst in my chest, “I don’t know how to bake cookies without burning them and I don’t own any hockey gear.”
That doesn’t seem to bother him. “If they come from you, I’d eat them anyway.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Bodhi
Gemma won’t stoptalking about Honor and Puck, and I know the feeling. The good news is that my daughter’s obsession with the redhead and her canine means I can use it to my advantage. I alreadydid. Despite what I told Honor, Gemma never remembers who picks out pumpkins and usually doesn’t request anybody come over to carve them unless I suggest it.
But does Honor need to know that? No. I want her in my space. I want her to tell me things about her past without deflecting or changing the subject. I want her to offer me the information instead of me having to ask for it. That all comes with time, and I’m willing to give her as much of that as she needs.
