Page 28 of The Pumpkin Spice Romance
Mr. Buttercup watched them from a few feet away, chewing lazily on a piece of cloth. Autumn shook her head, chuckling.
The pair sat back to admire their handiwork and the goat inched closer, his tail wagging ever so slightly as though stalking his prey.
“No . . .” Autumn snapped, catching the gleam in his eyes. “Don’t even think about it, Mr. Buttercup.”
But the goat ignored her, lurching forward with shocking speed. His teeth latched onto the edge of the pumpkin, tugging it with a victorious bleat.
“Hey!” Graham exclaimed, diving toward the pumpkin and pulling it back, only for the goat to hang on stubbornly. It turned into a brief tug-of-war, Graham on one side and Mr. Buttercup on the other. They jerked the pumpkin between them like a giant orange chew toy.
Autumn doubled over laughing, clutching her sides as tears of mirth streamed down her face. “You can’t win, Graham,” she said between gasps. “The goat always wins.”
“Not this time,” Graham shot back, planting his feet firmly in the wet grass and giving one last pull. The pumpkin popped free with a wet, squelching sound, leaving the goat to stumble back, looking more indignant than defeated.
Mr. Buttercup let out a low, sulky bleat, then turned away, clearly unimpressed with his loss. He flicked his tail dramatically and stomped off toward the hay bales, chewing on what remained of the jacket sleeve.
Graham held the pumpkin up proudly, its carved initials still intact, though the side now bore the imprint of goat teeth. “There,” he said with a grin, setting it back down. “Unpredictable but still standing. Just like us.”
Autumn wiped her tears, still grinning as she reached for his hand. “If that’s not a metaphor for life on the farm, I don’t know what is. Welcome home, Graham,” she whispered, and leaning in, kissed him.
Graham smiled against her lips and then returned the sweet kiss. His hand resting lightly on the pumpkin between them, he echoed, “Home, again!” His words carrying a quiet promise.
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