Late September was the best time of year. The leaves changed from green to bright hues of red, yellow, and orange, painting the horizon in vibrant color. The air was finally cool enough to break out the cozy sweaters, but still warm enough that digging out the giant, winter puffer coat was unnecessary.
I pulled into the parking lot of Beck’s Pumpkins, gliding my car into a spot on the end before banging the back of my head against the headrest with athunk. I couldn’t believe I was here—on a first date with Jameson. Me, the girl with the strict no dating policy.
I took a moment to breathe, trying to calm my racing pulse.
It’s not a big deal, Elsie. It’s just a couple hours with a very attractive man, and then it’ll be over. No harm done. You can do this.
After that pathetic attempt at a pep talk, I climbed out of the car and made my way toward the long field of pumpkins, the heels of my boots sinking into the hay beneath my feet.
I refused to admit I thought a date at a pumpkin patch was romantic, even if Smitten Elsie currently swooned in my mind.
Jameson had texted me the details for our date with about one thousand exclamation points not long after I left The Roasted Bean. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to get the point across that he was excited, or if he was like an old man that couldn’t quite figure out how texting worked.
Kids ran back and forth through the patch, trying to pick up pumpkins nearly twice their size. There was a couple being photographed at the end of the field, and I thanked my lucky stars that Maya wasn’t here to embarrass me further. I could do that enough on my own.
The sign at the entrance boasted hayrides, a corn maze, and fresh apple cider donuts—all of which I had no complaints about. My only gripe was that I was here on a date when I absolutely shouldn’t be.
But still, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to a place like this, and I was determined totryto enjoy it.
Despite the sun sinking toward the horizon, the patch was chaos with people and kids milling all over the place. I glanced around, wondering where Jameson was, but I didn’t see him anywhere.
“Boo,” a voice said behind me, and I jumped, struggling to suppress the smile twitching at my lips. My stomach flipped, and I internally scolded myself.None of that, Elsie. This is just a casual date and then it will be over.
“Boo who?” I replied, turning to face him.
Be still, my heart.
He wore a white t-shirt and a red flannel that emphasized his muscles, making him look like a sexy lumberjack. Was my life turning into a Hallmark Movie?
Jameson’s dimples deepened. “Don’t be sad. I brought treats.” He held out a bag of cinnamon sugar-coated apple donuts.
I smirked at his lame joke, taking the bag, adamantly ignoring the sensation that went up my arm as our fingers brushed.“Ah, sugary treats. The way to every girl’s heart.”
Tilting his head, he asked, “But is it the way to your’s?”
Smitten Elsie shouted in pure glee in my mind. “It’s a start.”
“I’ll keep trying then.” Jameson nudged me with his elbow, shooting me a smirk of his own. His hazel eyes shimmered in the light of the setting sun, and I was suddenly far too warm, like I was standing next to a bonfire and not this handsome man.
“I thought we could pick out pumpkins first,” he offered, pointing to where countless orange balls were nestled on the ground. “I set up a small carving station on the side of the shop.”
A tableheset up? Did the owners take kindly to random people setting up tables to carve pumpkins? That seemed like a bad idea.
It doesn’t matter! Get moving, missy!Smitten Elsie was going wild.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve carved a pumpkin,” I admitted.
“That’s okay. I brought a book of little designs you tape onto the pumpkin. I can show you the rest.”
Out of excuses, I could only nod and follow his lead, wondering which was worse:
Agreeing to this date with Jameson…
Or having to touch pumpkin guts.
Jameson
My fingers burned from the effort it took to keep from taking Elsie’s hand as we wandered through the pumpkins, trying to find the perfect one.
