Chapter 8
Abigail
“REALLY REACH IN THERE,” TANNERtells me. “Don’t be afraid to go elbows deep.”
I stand there wide-eyed. If you had told me before how disgusting pumpkin carving really is, I would have passed on this excursion. Or if you’d have told me last night when I found the biggest pumpkin of all times and was riding that high that it would be full of sixty pounds of pumpkin guts and seeds I would have also had to pass. Hard pass.
Last night I floated to sleep on the wings of the very best date I had ever had—not that I’ve had so many great ones. But none compared to the orchard with Tanner. It was straight out of a romance novel.
This morning, I woke up feeling like Cinder-freaking-ella with the singing birds and everything knowing that I was going to have another great day with Tanner. I got up and had a bowl of cereal and then showered and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, my sneakers and a sweatshirt. I had dried my hair and twisted it up into a messy bun on top of my head before dabbing a little makeup on my face. I want to be pretty for Tanner but not too pretty like I’m trying too hard. Just . . .pretty.
Tanner arrived at exactly noon. Got to love a man who acts like not only his time butyourtime is important. He escorted me down to his truck and then drove me to his home, a modest one story on the opposite end of town from the motel. It’s gorgeous but not in an in your face kind of a way. More of a ‘I could see myself helping to prepare Sunday barbeques in the backyard while the kids played’ kind of a way. It was the kind of vision that makes you want things you know you can’t have. Or at least it makesmewant things I know I can’t have or shouldn’t want.
When we walked into the kitchen, he had the table covered with old newspapers and our pumpkin, Big Bertha, right smack dab in the middle.
“Roll up your sleeves, darlin’, and we’ll get to work,” he tells me before he cut the huge top off and then told me to dive in.
“You want me to what?” I asked.
“Stick your hand in there and scoop out the good stuff,” he laughs. “Seeds go in this bowl of water here and guts go in the big empty bowl over here.”
“Why?” I ask tentatively as I stick my hand into the gourd, cringing at the cold sliminess of it all. I must have made a winner of a face because one look at me has Tanner throwing his head back and laughing a deep, rumbling laugh. It makes me want to make him do it again. And again.
“Because the seeds are delicious roasted, and the guts make great things like pie and bread.”
“I’m not sure those great things are so good for my ass,” I say off hand as I scoop out more guts. Tanner leans back and gets an obvious, but favorable view of my backside.
“I’m not so sure anything could be bad for that ass.”
“Thank you, I think.” I shrug.
“Oh, that was most definitely a compliment,” he says, grinning. I sigh and roll my eyes which just makes him chuckle.
Once we’ve cleaned the pumpkin and wipe it down, we let it set for a moment while we eat turkey sandwiches for lunch that Tanner made himself. I can’t remember the last time someone made me a sandwich.
“Well, what would you like to put on our pumpkin?” he asks me. “A face? A cat? A pirate ship?”
“You can do a pirate ship?” I ask him, amazed.
“You can put anything on a pumpkin if you’re creative enough,” he says, smiling at me.
“I think I want a face,” I tell Tanner. “Like the normal jack-o’-lantern face.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he says as he grabs a couple of pens from a desk drawer and hands one to me. Together we start drawing the face that we’ll cut out.
I laugh the entire time we work on our pumpkin. Tanner has the ability to make me feel carefree when that is definitely not the case. He has a relaxed manner about him that puts me at ease and a quiet strength that makes me feel safe. Not that I need to feel safe anymore, Brandon is dead.
“Alright, let’s put him on the porch now,” he tells me as he picks up our pumpkin and heads for the front of the house. I quietly follow behind him.
I pull open the front door for Tanner since his hands are full of our sixty-pounder and he smiles his thanks to me. Once outside, he places our jack-o’-lantern in a place of pride before pulling an LED tea light from his pocket and turning it on, lighting up my very first carved pumpkin.
We stand back for a moment to appreciate our hard work. I feel the heat of his gaze on my face and when I turn to look at him, Tanner is looking at me, not the pumpkin.
“You have a little . . .” He gestures to my face as he brings his hands up to frame my face and gently wipe away a little stray pumpkin.
His eyes burn with something I haven’t seen in a long time. I should turn away, run home to my safe, little motel room, but I can’t. I want this, this tiny little sliver of time where I get to be a normal girl with a normal guy on a great date.
Just as his lips touch mine, lights flash across our faces.
