Page 220 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

His thumb brushed my waist. “You ready?”

“Depends where we’re going.”

“You’ll survive.”

“That’s reassuring.”

He opened the passenger door for me and I climbed inside. Ten minutes later, I realized we weren’t headed toward Main Street.

“Beau.”

“Hm?”

“Where are we going?”

“On our date.”

“Restaurants are the other direction.”

“Good observation.”

Twenty minutes later, he turned into a quiet residential street on the other side of Willow Creek. The houses were older, mostly brick or siding, set far enough apart for actual yards. Mature trees arched over the street, their leaves beginning to change in uneven patches of yellow and burnt orange.

Beau pulled into the driveway of a single-story brick house with dark shutters and a wide front porch.

I looked at him. Then at the house. Then back at him. “You brought me to your house.”

“I thought we could have a night without the town prying.” He laughed and climbed out.

I followed him toward the porch. “You said we were going on a date.”

“We are.” He unlocked the door. Warm light spilled across the porch. Then I smelled dinner. Something savory filled the house, garlic and herbs mixed with whatever was cooking in the oven.

Beau watched my face.

“You cooked?”

“I occasionally feed myself.”

“I assumed you survived exclusively on sandwiches and your mother’s leftovers.”

“That’s insulting.” He chuckled.

Beau’s house surprised me. Not because I’d expected it to be dirty. I hadn’t expected it to feel so much like him.

The furniture was simple and comfortable rather than carefully matched. A large brown couch faced the television. Family photographs occupied one wall, including several of Beau, Jax, and Clover when they were children. There were books mixed with car magazines on a shelf near the fireplace and a ridiculous ceramic pumpkin sitting on the coffee table.

I picked it up. “This is horrifying.”

“Clover.”

“Obviously.”

“Christmas gets worse.”

“I’ll have to come back in December and see it.”

He smiled ever so softly, a little surprised at my comment. Something about his expression made my stomach flutter with excitement.