Chapter 30 #2
Although it comes out of nowhere—Maren and I have only just decided to give us a real shot—it feels too right to regret it.
“Turn around, Daddy!” Teagan waves her finger in a circle. “It’s not a surprise if you can see everything.”
I throw my hands up in surrender and do as I’m told, giving them my back.
The leaves have started undergoing what Mom always refers to as fall-osynthesis, transforming from bright greens to pale yellows and oranges. It’s officially been fall for almost two months, but it’s finally feeling as such the last week or so.
The swoosh of the branches in the breeze reminds me of the waves trickling up the shore in LA.
Teagan and I couldn’t enjoy an authentic fall in California, and needless to say, she’s liking the season here. She even volunteered to help me rake leaves in the yard earlier this week.
We’re finding the fun in the small things.
“Ready!” I hear from behind me, then, “You can turn around now, Daddy.”
Again, I do as I’m instructed, and they present a paper cup with a lid. What’s inside is a mystery, but at least it’s a hot coffee—I’m not usually a fan of the iced variety.
“What do we have here?” I check the cup as if something is about to pop out and scare me.
The pair shares a mischievous glance instead of answering me.
“Just try it.” Maren leans her elbows on the counter.
Teagan mimics her stance and repeats, “Yeah, just try it.”
I pop the lid off, about to blow on the steaming drink, but the art on top stops me. There, decorated in the foam, is a pumpkin with a heart at the end of the curly stem. “You did this?” I ask Maren.
“I’ve been practicing different styles.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but the deep blush coloring her cheeks tells a different story.
She never ceases to amaze me with all her talents.
Before I’ve even taken a sip, I know I’m going to like it, because they made it together for me.
When I do tip it back, the first drink is mostly foam, but there’s a gentle sweetness that settles on my tongue.
It’s reminiscent of fall in liquid form, with soft notes of cinnamon and other spices, but none of it is overpowering.
The girls lean farther over, their brows raised into their hairline as they wait for my response.
I lick my lips and hum.
Teagan throws her hands out. “Well?”
I hold my finger up, nodding and exaggerating my contemplation just to mess with them.
“If you hate it, spare us the dramatics and just tell us.” Maren rolls her eyes and straightens, crossing her arms over her chest. Her fuzzy sweater bunches between her breasts.
I try not to stare, but it’s futile. Trying not to stare at Maren is like attempting to ignore the blinding beauty of a rare diamond.
As I secure the lid back on top of the cup, a grin breaks free. “It’s delicious.”
Teagan jumps and high-fives Maren, who squints and purses her lips. Her cautious expression is much different than Teagan’s victorious one.
“Really?” she asks.
“Makes me wonder why I’ve been torturing myself with black coffee all this time.”
Again, Maren rewards me with a furious blush, and my grin spreads wider. I love how much joy she gets from being praised. Would she like it if I praised her in… other ways?
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” she manages, her throat scratchy like she just woke up.
“What is it?” I hold my coffee up.
“Pumpkin spice latte—a classic.” She winks and tosses something into the trash.
“I’ve tried a pumpkin spice latte, and this tastes nothing like it.”
“I make my own pumpkin spice syrup. Tends to be a little more subtle than others.”
“Impressive. Thank you both.”
“I want to try it.” Teagan holds her hand out.
“Maybe just a sip in the car.” I nod for Teagan to exit the truck.
But before I turn away, I lean onto the counter and lower my voice for only Maren’s ears, “You know, you don’t have to keep giving me reasons to like you.
” I tap the side of my cup. “I’m already crazy about you, and now you’ve gone and made me even crazier. ”
“That was my evil plan.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
Teagan rounds the corner with a small purple box in hand. When did she grab cookies? Before I can ask, she turns to Maren. “Did you tell him what you’re making for the bake-off? I already told him mine.”
“I haven’t.”
“If you follow your instincts, you can’t go wrong,” I offer.
Maren smiles.
“What?”
“I figured you’d say something like that, which is why I know exactly what I’m going to enter with.”
“You’re not going to tell me what it is, are you?”
She flashes me a mock innocent grin. “You know me so well.”
“All these surprises left and right…”
“You love them,” she teases.
The urge to kiss her is so strong, it’s painful, but it’s probably not the best idea. Not with my daughter present.
Instead, I offer a small wave and retreat toward my Jeep, where I pull my phone out and send her a text before we leave the lot.
Maren doesn’t immediately answer, as she tends to her new customer. Just as well, I’m distracted when Teagan shoves a cookie in my direction and goes on about how much she loves it.
I couldn’t agree more.
I want to ask her if these are the cookies Maren is entering into the bake-off, but I decide against it, preferring to be surprised—more fun that way.
But the surprises don’t stop there. Another is waiting for us when we pull into the driveway next to a rental car.