Pumpkin King
Abby Knox
Copyright © 2020 by Abby Knox
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Aquila Editing
Proofread by Red Pen Princess
Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations
Contents
Pumpkin King
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Abby Knox
Snowplowed
This story is dedicated to everyone who’s ever had to start over. You’re a badass. Keep going.
Pumpkin King
Opening a new pumpkin patch in a small town seems like a sensible move for Henry, who wants nothing more than to live a simple, stable life. When he impulsively complicates everything by offering a job to cute single mom Jane, he realizes he's got a lot more work to do: both on the farm, and on his finessing his new employee.
Jane has moved back to her hometown to start over, hoping a change of scenery and proximity to her best friend, Rocket, will provide the stability she wants for her daughter and for herself. The last thing she needs is a man, least of all one who’s her boss. If only he’d stop being so attractive in that sweaty shirt … and smelling so good … and looking at her like that, she might be able to concentrate on her work.
Come along for some good old-fashioned autumn fun with Henry and Jane, and stay for the not-so-wholesome pumpkin patch shenanigans. Don’t worry. Henry’s gourds are extremely sturdy.
This book is intended for readers 18 and over due to graphic sexual content.
Chapter One
Jane
Toddlers are the ultimate cock block.
Wait. Is it a cock block if a toddler prevents a woman’s attempt to procure a man’s phone number? Or is that technically a cooch block?
Whichever it is, I have Sarah, my angel-faced, mop-haired 14-month-old daughter to thank for making sure I don’t get any contact information from the incredibly hot guy we meet at the fair.
Picking up dudes while I’m out with my daughter is not my normal M.O., especially when I’m packed into a beauty pageant audience in support of my best friend, Rocket. It’s not that I wouldn’t talk to these somewhat intense people, it’s just that most of them are super invested in the outcome and not interested in making small talk with strangers.
My first impression when seeing a young-ish guy alone, eating snacks and observing a beauty pageant, is maybe he’s a little bit of a creep. I mean, this is the section reserved for friends and family of the contestants. I’ve attended half a dozen of these to support Rocket, and I’ve never seen that guy before.
He doesn’t give off creep vibes, though. I amuse myself with the most likely answer to why he’s sitting in the reserved section: he just needed a convenient spot to sit and eat his fair food, and the reserved section is never too crowded with people.
I’m not about to rat him out. He seems way more into that corn on the cob than he is the beauty pageant. Besides, he’s very cute. So, Sarah and I sit near the corn eater, because why not? He seems…interesting and different.
Different from Carl, Sarah’s biological dad. Very different.
I’ve always believed babies are an excellent judge of character, and Sarah immediately begins babbling at the man as soon as we take the empty seats next to him. She grows even more excited when he leaves and comes back with a funnel cake. Sure, she might be fascinated by the way he devours that sweet monstrosity, licking the powdered sugar off his fingers, but I see the way he playfully side-eyes her while he eats his food.
“I hate to eat sweets in front of a hungry baby, but I also don’t feel so good about tearing off a piece for her with my grubby fingers,” he says.
I appreciate this. It’s shocking to me how some strangers think they can offer candy or food to babies and toddlers, completely unaware of choking hazards or germs.
The man gets up and comes back with a small funnel cake for her—with my permission—thoughtfully cut up into bite-size pieces. He’s a god to my little monster after that.
For a second I think he’s bought himself a second adult-sized funnel cake, but then he holds it out to me. “And one for you,” he says with a wink.
The truth is, funnel cakes are not my favorite. Give me kettle corn any day of the week, if we’re ranking fair food. But I take it, and I nibble on it, enjoying the sugar rush and grateful for his thoughtfulness. Sometimes I feel a little invisible with all of the attention that a toddler requires.
Throughout this humid day at the pageant, Sarah’s new hero keeps my kid entertained but always checks in with me to make sure I’m cool with him talking to her. The checking-in part makes my soul want to cry from happiness. If he only knew how refreshing it is; too many people feel entitled to the attention of a cute kid.
I don’t usually find myself physically attracted to country guys, but Henry, as he introduced himself, has a certain laid-back aura and an easy smile that engages without trying to actively charm me. After everything I’ve been through since Sarah was conceived, charm doesn’t work on me anymore.
What touches me is Henry’s open enjoyment of our company. Surely he has things he’d
