Page 32 of Always Be My Pumpkin

He bites back a grin as he concentrates on smoothing the throw and laying it neatly over the back of the couch. I reach for it and he stretches his arm out to block me.

‘Don’t even think about it.’

I swat his hand away. ‘I’m not going to freeze because you’re a stubborn old mule.’

He laughs. ‘Old? I’m only two months older than you.’

‘Yeah, well, it shows.’ I cross my arms tightly to let him know I’m not budging. ‘Now go on up to bed and get some beauty sleep. You need it more than I do.’

‘That’s it, woman, you leave me no choice.’ He bends down and scoops one arm around my back and the other under my bare knees, and then he lifts me easily (all those push-ups, I suppose) and turns towards the stairs.

He carries me up the stairs and into the bedroom. And all the way up, I’m thinking this can’t be good for his back. I’m definitely going to make him take the bed, no matter how much he protests.

I’m also thinking it’s really, really hot. But I’m trying not to dwell on that.

He drops me gently on the bed. And does his best not to grin as he points his finger and says firmly, ‘Now, stay.’

I kneel up and set my hands on my hips. ‘Flynn Anderson, don’t you dare order me about. I’m not a naughty puppy, you know.’

He doubles over and covers his mouth.

‘And don’t you dare laugh at me.’

‘I’m sorry, Gracie, but your face. And you do remind me of a cute cocker spaniel. You know, those little golden ones, all bouncy and affectionate.’ He quirks his brow as I glare. ‘Of course, this is not based on right now. You don’t look very affectionate at the moment.’

‘Grrr.’ I pick up a pillow and fire it at him. ‘Well, if I’m a cocker spaniel, then you’re a bossy Alsatian.’

He gives up all pretence and honks out a laugh, then he flops down beside me on the bed. ‘An Alsatian. Really?’ He nudges my arm. ‘I’ve been told I’m more of a golden retriever, like those book boyfriends in those cute-covered novels you used to read.’

I elbow him in the ribs, but only lightly. I still read those when I get time, but I’m not giving him any more ammunition, so I shoot back instead, ‘Who told you that? Your mother?’

‘Ah, now, that’s just mean.’ He pushes me back on the pillows and leans over me, and I let myself get dangerously distracted by those thick brown lashes and dreamy blue eyes. And the way he’s looking at me. Maybe it’s my imagination, wishful thinking, but it feels like we’re having a moment. Then he straightens and his voice is low and husky as he says, ‘Seriously, I am not letting you sleep on that couch, no way.’

I almost whimper as he pulls away from me, but I manage to hold it in, just about.

He pats the duvet and sighs. ‘Come on, Gracie, take the bed. Please.’

I give in and slide under the covers, then I look up at him and hesitate before I make up my mind. ‘Only if you stay here too.’

He squints down at me, and I get that he’s not sure exactly what I’m saying. I’m not sure either, but I know I don’t want to be on my own. That conversation with Mam, and that memory of Dad, unsettled me. And Flynn being here makes me feel easier, safer, cared for, and I want to hold on to that feeling for a little while more.

But I also don’t want to risk messing things up. Flynn’s been the best friend to me this evening, listening and making me laugh, and that’s what I need more than anything.

‘It’s a huge bed. You can have your side and I’ll have mine. You can put pillows down the middle, if it makes you feel better. God knows there’s enough of them.’ I give him a pleading look. ‘You can’t keep sleeping on the couch, and with the night I’ve had, Mam’s phone call, and everything.’

I let my mouth twist in a teasing smile. ‘And then being bossed about and flung around the place.’

He throws back his head, laughing easily, and I decide to take a chance and not worry about pretending to be strong, or cool, or anything at all.

‘Well, that part was fun, but I am still feeling fragile after Mam’s call. And a bit lonely.’ I turn down the edge of the duvet and peer up at him. ‘I could use a friend beside me. If that’s okay?’

He pulls back the duvet and smiles at me softly. ‘I promised you once, Gracie, I’ll always be your friend, and I meant that.’ He gives my hand a squeeze and climbs in, leaving a pillow’s width between us but still holding my hand.

15

I wake the next morning with Flynn’s chin nestling at the nape of my neck, his arm draped across my waist, and his left knee pressed against my thigh. I lift his arm carefully and slide out from under the covers, and he stretches as though he’s reaching for something, but he doesn’t wake.

Thank God. I have a feeling he’d be mortified if he knew he was spooning me.