Page 74 of There's Pumpkin About You
He shrugs again. “How many hours are there in the day?”
“Gus,” I breathe.
His smile is soft, calming, his fingers coarse as he brushes my cheek. “I’m overexaggerating. It’s not as bad as that. By now I’m more than aware of what and where to avoid. Most of the time it’s down to stress.”
I open my mouth to respond but he winces and asks, “You’re not going to say you’re sorry, are you? Everyone tells me they’re sorry when they hear I struggle with something they don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize,” I assure him. “I was going to tell you that I think you’re kinda cool.”
Seeing Gus Finch blush has to be one of my new favorite things. The way that flush of pink bleeds into his tanned skin like a flush of color that kisses the horizon at sunset. The way he goes from sexy to nerdy and shy in an instant as he lowers his head and pushes up his silver-rimmed glasses.
Thankfully, by the time Bash and the others make it to the barn, I’ve long since calmed down and Gus is back to his quiet, grumpy self, only offering one-word answers when it suits him.
We’re all sitting inside the barn, lounging on the floor as the boys offer ideas for the interior. On the way here, I called Oakleigh and she said the moment she finishes her shift she’ll be down.
When she steps in, she gasps, green eyes wide as she takes in everything.
“Holy shit,” she breathes. “This is amazing! Way better than what it used to look like. Now would be a great time to update those photos on your website.”
When I glance over at my big brother, he seems put off by Oakleigh’s presence, pulling his knees closer to his chest and staring straight ahead. I really hope that they get on eventually. Sometimes it seems to be a form of hatred that’s been spurred on by unresolved sexual tension. Not that I particularly want my best friend and brother knocking boots, but it’s not my place to say what they should and shouldn’t do. They’re adults, after all.
Oakleigh comes and sits beside me, bringing me into her side in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, boo.”
“I didn’t really do anything, Lee. All I did was ask to redo it. The guys are the ones who put in all of the hard work.”
She sighs dramatically. “Yeah, but I can’t bring myself to say thank you to your brother.”
“Your maturity knows no bounds,” my brother sneers, and, because annoying him just doesn’t seem to be enough, Oakleigh blows him a kiss.
I look around me whilst they begin their usual argument and breathe out a sigh of contentment. This all just feels so… right. For the first time in my life, I feel as if I’m where I’m meant to be. I’m surrounded by the right people, doing what I’ve always wanted to do with my life.
I haven’t even realized until now that Gus is nowhere to be seen. He’s slipped out at some point, probably whilst I’ve been so lost in my own head. I look around, but nowhere is there a tall, grumpy farmer wearing his usual plaid shirt.
“Missing a certain someone?” Oakleigh whispers in my ear.
She doesn’t need an answer from me, not when I can feel my ears burning like there’s a lighter held beneath them.
“It’s okay to want that, you know,” she says, eyes boring into mine. “To want something with someone. Something real.”
I stare at the open doors. “I’m scared, Lee. I know that they’re not all like Adam, but it’s scary knowing that you have to trust them to find out which ones are and which ones aren’t.”
When I set my sights on my best friend once more, she’s watching me with a look of sympathy. “Gus doesn’t strike me as the type to hurt someone on purpose, Wren.”
“He isn’t,” I confirm with a surety that I never had with Adam. “He’s not like Adam at all.”
“Well, then maybe he’s worth the risk.”
As if to prove her point, Gus walks in with a small bunch of wildflowers in hand. He perches himself next to me, closer than someone who is just a friend would, and holds the flowers out to me.
My heart feels like it’s floating on air as I take the bunch of freshly picked flowers. “How sweet.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “They were outside.”
When we all stand up to leave, eager to get on with the day and sort what needs to be sorted, Bash floats at the back of the group until he’s shoulder to shoulder with me.
“Those flowers really must have made you smile last time,” he says with a low voice so only I can hear.
“Why do you say that?” I ask, staring at the flowers with a soft smile.
