Page 94 of Bloom in Darkness

“It was three hundred dollars.” Caelan follows us down the steps and reaches for the porch door before Bryn gets there. “You called me unreasonable for blinking at the receipt.”

Bryn sets the pumpkin beside the porch and disappears into the garage. When he comes back holding a knife that has absolutely no business near a pumpkin, I point at it. “No. Absolutely not. You can’t carve a pumpkin with that.”

Bryn stops and looks down at the knife in his hand, then at the pumpkin beside him. “It’ll work. I only need to cut the top and the face.”

Caelan folds his arms and moves a little farther from Bryn and the knife. “For once, I agree with Astra. Put that thing back before the pumpkin becomes a crime scene.”

Bryn looks between us, clearly unimpressed with both answers he is getting. “What am I supposed to use, then? That little plastic thing?”

I hand him the orange plastic carving tool I bought specifically for this purpose and push it into his free hand. “This. It came in the kit, which means somebody designed it for exactly this job.”

Bryn turns the little tool over in his hand and presses his thumb against the thin orange handle. “It’s tiny. It’ll break before I get through the first side.”

“It won’t break.” Four minutes later, he holds the snapped handle between two fingers and looks at me. I point at him before he can speak. “Don’t.”

He goes back into the garage without another word. Caelan watches him disappear through the door, then looks at me. “He’s getting the knife. You know he’s getting the knife.”

“I know.” I spread newspaper across the patio table and start painting the smaller pumpkins while Bryn attacks the giant one with whatever he brought back from the garage. Caelan sits across from me with his laptop open, though his attention keeps drifting over the top of the screen.

Caelan taps one finger near the pumpkin in front of me, careful not to touch the wet paint. “You missed a spot right there. Tiny one.”

I check the pumpkin and find absolutely nothing wrong with it. Then I dip one finger in orange paint and drag it across the back of his hand. “You distracted me.”

His fingers stop over the keyboard. “I didn’t.” Caelan catches my wrist before I can pull away and wipes a streak of orange across my cheek with his thumb.

“You asshole.” I turn at the sound of Bryn laughing and catch him before he can look away. “You think this is funny?”

Bryn shakes his head, but the corner of his mouth gives him away before he can turn back to the pumpkin. “No. I’m minding my business.”

“Liar.” I get black paint across his forearm before he can move and make it three steps before he catches me around the middle and lifts me off the ground. I twist in his arms while keeping the paintbrush away from my shirt. “Put me down.”

Bryn looks at the black streak on his arm, then at the brush still in my hand. “You painted me. I wasn’t even near the table.”

“You deserved it for being smug.” I kick my feet once while he holds me off the ground, which accomplishes nothing except making Caelan laugh harder.

“I wasn’t.” Bryn finally puts me down directly in front of him but keeps one hand around my waist, probably because he has learned something from the last thirty seconds.

“I saw your face.” I swipe orange across his jaw before he can move. He blinks once, and Caelan stops laughing behind us. “Worth it.”

By the time we finish, three pumpkins are painted, one giant pumpkin has been carved with a surprisingly decent face, I’ve got orange paint in my hair, Bryn has black fingerprints down one arm, and Caelan somehow has a green streak across the front of his shirt despite insisting he never participated. The boxes keep coming, and by Wednesday morning Caelan tries to establish a rule while I’m pouring coffee.

“No more deliveries after tomorrow.” Caelan sits at the table with his coffee and watches me over the rim of the mug. “Whatever is still coming can come, but after that we’re done.”

“There are only two more.” The doorbell rings before I finish the sentence, and Bryn starts to get up from the table. I keep my eyes on my coffee because looking guilty would only make this worse.

Caelan points at him. “Don’t.” Bryn actually stops, which would be impressive if the bell didn’t ring again immediately. Then Caelan turns toward me. “How many?”

“Technically?” I bite the inside of my cheek when his eyes narrow. “Four. Maybe five. One of them is very small.” Bryn opens the door before Caelan can stop him.

The delivery driver is standing there with two boxes stacked against his chest. Caelan looks at the ceiling for a second before turning toward me. “Astra. You said two.”

I put my coffee down, walk over, and wrap both arms around his waist before he can start. “You were about to complain, and I’m saving both of us the time.”

“You’re not getting out of this by kissing me.” Caelan keeps his hands at his sides for the first kiss. By the second, one settles at my waist.

Behind us, Bryn carries both boxes inside without making the mistake of getting involved. I smile against Caelan’s mouth. “See? Better. You weren’t even using those words anyway.”

Caelan pulls back and looks from me to Bryn as the boxes disappear toward the living room. “I hate both of you. I want that on the record.”