Page 38 of Always Be My Pumpkin

‘We live in the same house. Of course I’m going home with him.’

‘I know. Scott told me.’ He growls. ‘I was going to go over there and talk sense into you. But then your loser buddy reassured me that you’re nothing more than friends.’ He scowls over my shoulder. ‘I don’t know what crazy idea you’ve gotten into your head now, Gracie, but you’re wasting your time. He’s not interested.’

His expression darkens and he takes hold of my arm. ‘Don’t you remember how he laughed? And how he left you. He didn’t even write you one of those precious letters you were always sending each other before he moved away. Don’t you think if he cared a damn about you, he’d have told you how he felt.’ He lets go of my arm and clutches his fist to his chest, in classic Jamie overacting style. ‘If it was me, I would have begged you to ask me to stay.’

There’s no way Jamie would have begged me for anything. But I still feel the sting of his words even though I won’t let it show. I know that’s what he’s aiming for with his spiteful barbs. So, I turn towards the car park, and I see Flynn leaning against the side of Pat’s truck, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as though he senses me, and he mouths the words are you okay?

I nod and push back my shoulders as I make up my mind. I can’t get Jamie to listen, and softly, softly doesn’t work with him. I picture his amateur dramatics when he tried to take over our meeting. And I decide I need an Oscar-worthy performance of my own to show him, once and for all, that we’re done.

I swing back around. ‘You’re wrong, Jamie. We’ve been pretending we’re just friends because I didn’t want you making a fuss. You know how pathetic you can be.’ I give him a good sneer, to match the ones he’s given me so many times this past year. ‘But believe me, we’re a lot more than friends. Flynn came back as soon as he heard I was home. And if you’ve been talking to Scott, you must already know we’re sharing a bed.’

Jamie’s jaw drops and his eyes widen with shock. And I stride confidently down the steps to Flynn, waiting patiently like it’s no trouble at all. I curl my arms around his neck and whisper in his ear. ‘I’m sorry about this but I’m going to have to kiss you, it’s the only way I’ll convince Jamie to leave me alone.’

I gulp down my fear. Flynn won’t laugh this time, he knows I’m only asking as a friend. I lift my chin and meet his eyes, warm and bright and questioning in the low evening light, and I say what I should have said ten years ago, the night I gave him that pen. ‘Stay with me, please.’

‘Is this okay?’ I move closer, so close I can feel the warmth of Flynn’s breath on my mouth.

‘Um, yeah.’ His voice is low and husky as he slides an arm around my waist.

‘Is Jamie watching?’

‘Uh huh.’ He swallows, then his mouth quirks in that mischievous smile. ‘I guess we’d better give him something worth watching.’ He lowers his forehead to mine and drops one hand to the curve of my hip, and a faint moan spills out of me as he skates his thumb across my lower lip. And then his mouth is on mine, his hand beneath my hair, kneading circles up my neck. His tongue parts my lips and tracks softly over mine, and his kiss is deep and intense, but also gentle, too gentle, like he’s holding too much back.

A pleading hum climbs my throat and my body moulds to his. Flynn groans low and hungry and grips my hip tight. And something splinters inside of me, tiny fireworks erupt under every inch of my skin. He tastes of ginger and chocolate. He tastes like my favourite ice cream. He’s kissing like he means it now and he tastes like all that I’ve been craving since I was barely sixteen.

I feel him harden against me and he goes to draw back, but I don’t even think about it, I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him as close as I can get. My body feels like it’s on fire and I can’t remember why I’m doing this or why I thought this couldn’t work, because this is perfect, this is everything I want. Then I hear a car door slam and the screech of burning tyres. And my skin turns icy cold. Jamie. I’d forgotten he was there.

Flynn tips up my chin and skims it with his thumb. ‘Are you okay, Gracie?’ Then he rubs up and down my shoulders like he’s trying to keep me warm. ‘You almost jumped out of your boots. I guess we really pissed him off.’

‘I guess we did.’ I guide my lips into a smile, although my voice sounds breathless still. ‘Looks like the plan worked. And yeah, I’m fine, thanks, just got a fright from the noise.’ It’s not like I can tell him I’m trembling from his kiss.

He walks around the truck to hold open my door. ‘Okay then, let’s get you home.’

‘Cup of tea? Or something stronger?’ Flynn asks when we’re back in Hazel Cottage. Like it’s another sleepy Saturday night. Like he didn’t just have his hand on my ass, his tongue in my mouth, his body hot and hard against mine.

I closed my eyes as soon as I climbed into Pat’s truck and we drove home in silence, although he did reach over and squeeze my hand tight. Now I’m curled on my end of the couch, flicking through channels for something to take the edge off my frazzled nerves. I look over at Flynn, leaning lazily against the kitchen cupboard like nothing special happened, and that kiss wasn’t everything we’ve been missing for ten aching years.

‘Do we have any brandy?’ My voice is shaky and I need a stiff drink before I ask him if he wants to talk about it all. ‘Sorry, I mean do you have any brandy? I’ll do a shop soon, I promise. It’s been so hectic these last few weeks.’

He smiles easily. ‘It’s been a whirlwind all right.’ He bites down on his lower lip and now I wonder if he is thinking about our kiss, then I realise I’m staring greedily at his mouth. I grip the remote and switch my focus to the screen.

‘Brandy, no, I don’t think so.’ He turns and reaches into the glass-fronted cupboard above his head. ‘I do have a bottle of Irish Mist though.’

His voice seems less even, almost scratchy as he goes on, ‘Good for settling the nerves, all those herbs, and the honey . . . I might have a glass myself.’

He sounds like me, the way I ramble when I’m not sure how I’m landing, if I’ll get the response that I’m hoping for. Maybe he’s not quite as unruffled as I thought.

‘Sounds good,’ I say.

He grabs two whiskey tumblers from the shelf and starts to pour. He walks over and hands me my glass. ‘It’s medicinal. Just what you need to take your mind off things.’

I notice he said your, like he’s over it already, but he’s worried that I’m not. Then I remember what he said about Meghan. Friends with benefits never works. But I’m not Meghan, and this is us. I’m still trembling inside, my skin tingling from the memory of his touch, but I’ll never try to hold him if he doesn’t want to stay.

I need to let him know that it was only a kiss, really no big deal. Such a tiny, tiny deal, that it wouldn’t do any harm if we tried it again. Like maybe now. Please. I’m running through the words in my mind, plucking up the courage to let them out, when Flynn tilts his head, gives my shoulder a squeeze.

‘You must feel pretty cut up about having it out with Jamie. It’s got to be hard after being together for so long.’ He shoots me a sympathetic smile. ‘You know you can talk to me if you need to.’

Then he walks back to lean against the cupboard, and it feels like he’s miles away, like there’s an ocean between us again. Did what happened in the car park not affect him at all?