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“Does everything you make taste like a fucking pumpkin?”
“Only the delicious things.”
“Pumpkin coffee. Pumpkin bread. Pumpkin pancakes. I’m surprised you haven’t started putting it in your shampoo.”
I pause.
“That’s actually a brilliant idea.”
“Forget I said anything.”
I grin and start mixing batter.
He leans against the counter, watching me.
“You know, I could put pumpkin spice in your coffee.”
“Do that and we’re gonna have problems.”
“Big problems?”
“Enormous.”
“Promises, promises.”
His gaze drops to my mouth.
Heat spreads through my stomach.
“Careful, Pumpkin.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to behave.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
“You have no fucking idea.”
I smile sweetly and pour batter into the skillet.
“You’re awfully cranky for a man who got to sleep beside a beautiful woman last night.”
“Beautiful woman stole all the blankets.”
“Beautiful woman was freezing.”
“Beautiful woman also talks in her sleep.”
I whirl around.
“I do not!”
“You do.”
“What did I say?”
He takes another sip of coffee.
