Chapter 20
Pumpkinville is the epitome of autumn. About five miles outside of town, it’s all sprawling fields nestled beneath rolling mountains. The only buildings in sight are the weathered brown structures that make up the farm, sprinkled about the pumpkin patch and corn maze and beer garden.
There is an old pick-up truck parked out front, painted in robin egg blue, with the farm’s logo in faded white on the door. Its bed overflowing with plump, orange pumpkins and hay bales at the wheels.
Jake’s truck bumps over the uneven gravel as we pull in, sending me sliding from the middle of the bench seat until I settle against him. My knee presses to his thigh, my shoulder to his bicep. And I feel his body soften to the contact, welcoming it.
“This place is adorable. It feels like we’re in a postcard,” his sister gasps from the passenger seat to my right.
I quickly shift back to center and smile at her. The time it took to get here was filled with Taylor’s eager questions about everything we passed. If Jake is steady warmth, Taylor is bursts and flares.
“It’s a town institution,” I assure her. “And my favorite place to visit each fall.”
“Are those… goats?” Jake asks, squinting through the parking lot to the petting zoo shelter.
“They are—Claire won the chance to name the kid two years ago.”
He pulls into a spot, climbs from the truck, and reaches out to help me slide across the seat. It would have been easier to go out Taylor’s side, but I accept his offer, placing my hand in his upturned palm. His fingers curl gently around mine, his touch sending subtle currents through me.
“What did she name it?” Taylor asks. She walks around the truck, seemingly oblivious to the way we’re standing together, my hand still delicately draped over his like a regency couple ready to go promenade.
“Um.” My mind blanks as I continue to look into his deep brown eyes. They have me transfixed, especially when paired with the way his thumb is gently brushing over my knuckles.
In this moment, my own name is escaping me.
“Hey, there you are.” Claire’s familiar voice breaks through my trance, and I look up to find her and Levi weaving through the parked vehicles to reach us. “We secured a table at the beer garden.”
Jake lowers our joined hands, his fingertips trailing light as a feather across mine until they slowly slip away. But instead of pulling back completely, he moves so the backs of our hands graze one another, dangling between us.
“Anything good on tap?” he asks as we follow them back to the prized table.
“There’s usually a nice selection from a brewery up in Buffalo,” Levi answers.
The crunch of gravel beneath our feet is eventually traded for muffled steps along the grassy path between lines of pumpkins. The whole way, the back of Jake’s hand grazes mine—again and again and again. My fingers twitch to reach for him. At one point, I think maybe his do too.
Our reserved spot is on the edge of the half-moon rows of tables; all formed around a grain bin converted to a gazebo. The galvanized steel shelter houses the bar, and Mack, a friend of Levi’s, is busy slinging beers and hard cider slushies behind it.
We all take a seat at the picnic table, each reaching for the menus fanned out before us. “I don’t know why we bother looking at these,” Claire says. “Taylor, I highly recommend the spiked slushy with the caramel whipped cream and pumpkin donut topper. It’s what Lucy and I get every year.”
“I dream about it all summer,” I confirm.
“Sold.”
They both set their menus back down. The boys aren’t as convinced though. “Have you had the amber ale?’ Jake asks, turning to Levi. “It sounds pretty good.”
“That’s usually my go to,” he replies. “It’s great if you like darker brews.”
“I do.”
“Nice, then if everyone’s decided, I’ll go up and order. I need to say hey to Mack anyway.” Levi strides away, his blond-tipped hair gleaming under the late afternoon sun.
With drinks on the way, I turn my attention to Taylor. “Do you work for your dad as well?” I ask, hoping I have no ill will toward the Carpenter Collection in my tone.
“No way.” She bursts out a laugh. “I could never.”
I notice that she isn’t offering up what she does instead, and when Jake purses his lips, I try to think of a quick pivot. “You’re not into travel writing like your brother, then?”
The Carpenter siblings look at me quizzically, but it’s Claire’s turn to laugh.
“Travel writing?” Jake asks.
“Mm, according to Claire, that’s your new profession.”
Taylor tilts her head to the side. “You know I could actually see it.”
“Thank you, I thought it was an excellent cover.”
“I need a cover?” he asks, his attention trained on me.
“Inadvertently. But it will make things easier when we…” I trail off, suddenly all too aware of how presumptuous I must sound. As of right now, this is the last of our plans together.
Jake doesn’t let me off the hook though. “When we…” he repeats, leaning towards me.
“So, Claire, would you care to show me this goat you named?” Taylor asks, a scheming glint in her eye.
“Oh, Biscuit!” My roommate springs back up from the wooden bench and turns to flash a coy smile my way. “I think that is an excellent idea, Taylor.”
And then together, the two of them stroll off in the most blatant set up I have ever witnessed.
“Could they have been any more obvious?” I sigh, shaking my head.
Jake grins back, propping his elbow on the table between us and tipping even closer towards me. “Subtlety isn’t Taylor’s strong suit.”
“This morning, Claire saw you two and thought you were together—she was ready to gather the pitchforks and run you out of town. Now she’s your biggest fan again, just like that.” I snap my fingers on the word that, then lean forward on my elbow as well.
“You’re not my biggest fan?” The corner of his mouth quirks.
I smile back. “Jury’s still out.”
“Hmm, anything I can do to help my case?”
We’re so close now, I can feel the heat of his breath as the words drift from his lips. But it’s hard to tell which of us has covered more distance to get to this point. The air crackles, and I can almost feel electricity radiating off him.
“Well.” I tap a finger to my jaw in thought. “Claire’s never been willing to get lost in a corn maze with me.”
“Lucy, I’d get lost anywhere with you.”