Page 230 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

One night we’d driven forty minutes for Italian food because Carson insisted Willow Creek’s only Italian restaurant committed crimes against pasta. Another we’d stayed at my house, eaten takeout on the couch, and watched a horror movie she swore wasn’t scary before spending half of it with her face buried against my shoulder.

We’d also discovered that dating during October meant regularly being volunteered for activities neither of us remembered agreeing to. Monday night had been scarecrow judging. Friday was haunted hayride setup.

Carson walked through the shop carrying a brown paper bag. One of our regulars, Mr. Talbot, was standing beside his truck while I finished explaining what we’d replaced. He looked toward Carson.

“Well, there’s your girlfriend. I’ll let you go.”

“Appreciate it.” I handed him his keys as he thanked me and left.

Carson had stopped at the entrance, green eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your girlfriend?”

I looked toward the parking lot. Then back at her. “I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“You did?” Her eyebrows rose.

I wiped my hands on a rag. This suddenly felt like a trap.

“Are you not my girlfriend?”

“You’ve never asked me…”

From beneath the truck in the next bay, Jax started laughing.

“Stay out of this,” I called.

“Wouldn’t dream of interfering.”

Carson’s mouth twitched. I tossed the rag onto my toolbox and walked toward her. She backed up until her ass hit the edge of the counter.

“Carson Rome.”

“Oh God.”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

She laughed.

“I’m serious, sweetheart.”

Jax made a choking sound somewhere behind us.

I ignored him.

“Beau.”

I put my hands on either side of her against the counter. “You’re making this unnecessarily difficult.”

“You waited until after sleeping with me to ask.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Carson.”

Her smile finally broke free. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”