Page 77 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
‘And your love wasalwaysenough. You are enough, Zain Kimberkoo. Exactly as you are.’ Rosie stepped towards him and took his face in her hands. ‘And I’m so sorry for all the things I wasn’t truthful about. I was going to tell you I wasn’t the real interviewee for this job – it just never seemed like a good time.’
‘Hey, if Agnes doesn’t mind.’ He shrugged.
‘And I shouldn’t have turned our relationship into a romantic story. I didn’t plan to. I just started typing and couldn’t stop. I wouldneverhave shown it to anyone without your say-so. Anyway, you can have it for your bonfire. You’re right that I should create my own stories, not copy our chatbot-inspired dates. I’m writing something new.’
‘Don’t you dare burn it – it was incredible. Well, the bits I saw of it, before I realised naked Cain was me, and got self-conscious. I over-reacted, and I’m sorry. Thanks for the generous description, by the way.’ He gave her a shy nod, his hair flopping across his face. It was both hot and adorable.
‘Oh God, I should have thought more about your privacy. It’s almost like painting you in the nude without asking.’ Rosie hid her own face behind her hand. ‘Though I would have edited those bits out.’
Zain gently removed her hand and held it in his. ‘No more hiding.’
Rosie nodded. He was right about that.
‘And I honestly don’t mind if you want to use me in your work, now I’m used to the idea. I’m pretty honoured you find me interesting enough.’
‘Oh, you made a fascinating muse.’
‘Tell me more.’
Zain squeezed her hand and guided her away from his cabin, towards the lake. The sunlight shimmered across its water, giving it the magnetic pull she’d come to know and love. The day was warming up, and Rosie couldn’t help thinking about stripping off to jump into it, preferably with a certain pumpkin farmer. But they had talking to do.
‘I’m not sure what a muse does,’ Zain said, as they walked across the grass. ‘But I know being with you has brought me back to life. Before you came here, I’d given up on people. I was hanging out with a hairless cat, obsessing over the ultimate knobbly fruit and shutting out every chance of being happy. I was justexisting. Usually, quite grumpily.’
Rosie laughed.
‘You didn’t look like you belonged here one bit,’ he continued. ‘With your fancy beige coat and those heeled boots that slid around in the mud. Steve and I had a bet on, and I gave it two days, max, before you’d be calling a taxi. But I guess I didn’t know what you were made of. You climbed on roofs and made bug houses. You forged ever more ridiculous plans. And you didn’t let anything faze you. Before I knew it, you’d set up a damned treehouse in my heart.’
They reached the edge of the lake, and he turned to look at her, his eyes heavy with the weight of everything he was trying to say.
‘You showed me that peoplecanbe good, Rosie. I need more of you in my life.’
He held her face and tilted it tenderly towards his. The touch of his skin against hers, the intensity of his gaze, the pull of her heart as it dragged her towards him. It was the stuff of a million romantic novels, and it didn’t need a script.
A light autumn breeze swept around them, bringing birdsong and a few damp leaves, and the sweet smell of harvest. Rosie felt as if she could belong here forever, with this man. She felt almost complete. The only thing missing was his smile.
‘You made a bet...with a cat?’ Rosie could barely keep the giggle from her voice.
And finally, he beamed back at her, with a richness that reached his eyes and seemed to set them alight. ‘I pour my heart out – which was completely unscripted, by the way. And the main thing you take from that is my bet with Steve? Yes, OK. My best friend used to be a cat. I told you I was different.’
They stood grinning at each other, like being different was the best thing ever.
At last, their lips met, somewhere in the middle, and Rosie felt so light she could almost float. His kiss was soft and warm, laced with the promise of all that would come. It was the perfect welcome home, as though she’d always belonged with him, and everything before had been a journey to be right here. Held and loved. Safe in his arms and giving him shelter too. Nothing could have made her happier.
51
‘Woo hooooo! Rosie Featherstone isback.’
When Rosie had thought she couldn’t be happier, she’d clearly forgotten the love and effervescing joy of her new friends. And suddenly, they were making it their business to remind her.
The first voice had been Luna’s. She was legging it across the grass towards Rosie and Zain, who’d been lost in the depths of the best-ever kiss. Behind Luna was her girlfriend Ellen, who was laughing gleefully and pushing a wheelbarrow containing goodness knew what.
Bonnie wasn’t far behind them, her long boho skirts billowing, her arm waving what looked like a bottle of pumpkin fizz, which would now be considerably fizzier. And at the back were Mags and Agnes. Mags was carrying her new ginger cat in a sling, and Agnes was marching in her frog-eyed wellies, Onions the dog barking around her. Rosie had no idea what they were doing, or how Agnes had become part of the ensemble.
‘Sorry to interrupt the hot action.’ Luna panted as she arrived next to them, pink hair and piercings glinting in the sun. She gave them a wink.
‘Blame me,’ said Mags, as the rest of the group gathered. ‘I put Agnes on strict instructions to let us know the second you arrived back.’
‘Because we knew you would,’ said Bonnie, giving Rosie a squeeze.
