Page 36 of Harvest of Love
“Sorry, kiddo.” She shrugs, and I roll my eyes at her.
“I know tween doesn’t sound better than kiddo, but…” She laughs and wraps her arm around my shoulders. I put mine around her waist, and we walk together, Dad on her other side.
“Are you excited?” I ask.
Daisy’s steps slow for a second. Oh crap. I’m about to blow up the surprise.
“I mean—do you know the vibes you’re going for? Like, what color mums are we getting?”
She smiles at me, and I let out a big breath inside my head.
Dad shakes his head and swallows hard. Is he sweating? Wow, he’s actually nervous.
“Oh, yes,” Daisy says, totally missing how weird Dad’s being. “I was thinking of a witchy theme. We can have dark mums like red and orange. Then a couple of cinnamon brooms. I could also see if they have cauldrons or I don’t know, something old-school.”
“You should have asked Granny for the cauldron,” Dad says laughing, and Daisy’s eyes light up.
“Oh, Manny. That’s a great idea. I’m sure she has stuff like that laying around.”
I don’t really get why decorating the house with witch stuff is a big deal when Halloween was, like, three weeks ago.
“Bebé, here. Are these the mums you’re thinking about?” Dad asks, leading Daisy to the spot he had Auntie Ruin and Ms. Rain helped decorate.
Daisy’s eyes go huge. The pumpkin patch is never this organized. Usually, it’s just hay everywhere, pumpkins all over, and we grab a wheelbarrow and pick the ones we like.
But this part looks different—haystacks, soft flannel blankets, fairy lights, colorful banners, pumpkins, and even mums. It’s really pretty.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” Daisy says. “I wonder if this is for a private event.”
Dad’s eyes get so big I think they might pop out of his skull. He pushes up his glasses and clears his throat.
Ay Dios, here we go.
“Maybe it was for a photoshoot,” I say with a shrug, remembering what Ms. Rain told me.
“Aww, I need to pay more attention to the local ads at the coffee shop and the Rustic Spoon. I’d have loved some family pictures here.”
I grin at her. “Family pictures here sound really nice.” I hug her, and she wraps her arms around me.
I told Dad I could sell the story about not knowing anything was happening today—besides getting pumpkins—and I think I’m pulling it off.
Now it’sup to him.
Manny
My hands are sweaty, my heart’s racing like I’ve been sprinting for an hour. The small red velvet box in my jean pocket feels like a beacon. I’m terrified Daisy will notice it before everything I’ve planned for the proposal happens.
“What do you think of combining white and orange pumpkins?” Daisy asks, bending down to grab a few.
“Of course, bebé. Whatever you want.” I smile, but she frowns.
Fuck.
“Are you okay? You’re sweating,” she says, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead.
I give her a peck on the lips, trying to calm myself down. “Of course I’m okay. This shirt’s too warm—I think I overdressed.” I tug at the collar a couple of times, hoping to cool off.
When I glance back at her, the heat in her gaze softens her blue eyes. She’s thinking about this morning—how she woke up with me between her thighs. I steal another kiss, a silent promise for more heat tonight.
