Page 78 of The Pumpkin Spice Spell
I shoot her a look, toss another. This one lands, neat as anything, sliding over the neck of a bottle. The teenagers groan. Willa claps, biting her lip like she’s trying not to grin too wide.
“What do I win?” I ask the guy behind the booth.
He shrugs, hands me a stuffed pumpkin. It’s ridiculous. Bright orange with stitched-on eyes. I hold it out to Willa.
Her dark hair spills around her shoulders, loose and wild, and when she takes the pumpkin, her smile softens. “Thanks, Tate.”
We wander together toward the midway games. I let her try her hand at the dart balloons. She pops three in a row, and the guy running the booth hands her a tiny plush bat. She beams, clutching it to her chest like she just won a gold medal.
Next we find ourselves at the caramel apple stand. I buy two, and we walk side by side, chewing sticky bites, laughing when hers drips down her fingers. I grab her wrist without thinking, bring her hand to my mouth, and lick the sugar off her knuckle. She goes still, eyes wide, breath catching. For a second, it’s just us and the taste of her skin sweet against my tongue. Then someone calls out, breaking the spell, and she pulls her hand back, cheeks burning.
We circle the fairgrounds. Kids bob for apples in a barrel while their parents cheer. Couples sit wrapped in blankets on hay bales by the firepit, sipping hot cider. Lanterns sway overhead, glowing golden.
By the time the raffle winners are called and the band plays their last song, the night’s winding down. I feel like I’ve lived a hundred moments in these few hours, each one weaving into something bigger.
“You good?” she asks, her voice soft in the fading noise.
I smile, something loosening in my chest. “Better than ever.”
The crowd starts to thin as families herd kids toward cars, arms full of prizes and leftover kettle corn. But the Ferris wheel is still running, its lights glowing soft against the indigo sky. Willa glances at it, then at me, her lips quirking.
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs, curls bouncing. “You think we’re too old for a ride?”
“Never.” I lead her toward it before she can argue.\
The guy running the wheel smirks as he helps her in, and I climb in beside her, the metal seat rocking under our weight. The bar comes down with a clang, and then we’re rising, the ground falling away, lantern light shrinking into a patchwork of gold below.
The air up here is sharper, cooler. The whole town glows beneath us, the harbor a black mirror rimmed in silver moonlight. I glance over at her. She’s staring out, eyes wide, lips parted.
“Beautiful, huh?” I murmur.
She looks at me instead of the view. “Yeah.”
Something twists in my chest.
The ride pauses at the top to let more people on, leaving us suspended and swaying slightly.
She shifts, her thigh brushing mine, and I can feel the heat of her even through our jeans. I reach for her hand without thinking, lacing our fingers together.
She squeezes once, then leans her head against my shoulder. The world goes quiet up here. Just the creak of the wheel, thedistant murmur of laughter below, and her breath warm against my neck.
She looks up at the lanterns, her voice soft. “Feels like the kind of night you wish you could bottle up and keep forever.”
I lean down, brushing my mouth near her ear. “Bottle it? I’d put our label on it. That way I know it’s always ours.”
The wheel jolts, starting to move again, but she doesn’t lift her head. We circle down, lantern light brightening around us, and when the ride ends, I help her out, keeping her hand in mine.
We wander toward the edge of the festival, where the crowd has thinned. Music drifts faintly from the stage. Someone’s still laughing at Old Pete’s wild sea tales, but the sound is softer now, muted.
Willa pulls me toward a quiet spot near the firepit, where the lanterns hang low and the shadows deepen. She takes one of the donuts from the bag, tears it in half, and hands me a piece. Sugar dusts her lips as she bites into hers. I can’t help it. I lean forward and kiss the sweetness from her mouth.
She gasps softly, eyes fluttering shut, then kisses me back, slow and lingering, like the whole night has been building to this.
When we part, the lantern light glows gold on her face, and I know I’m done for.
“Come with me,” she says suddenly, tugging my hand.
