Page 17 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
That tinge of sadness in her eyes that appears to be a permanent resident, the way she absentmindedly curls a strand of her hair around her finger when she’s thinking.
She’s a mystery I want to solve. I want to know how to make that sadness in her eyes disappear. What her soft hair feels like when I run my fingers through it, how her lips would fit against mine, and …
“Earth to Henry?” Caleb suddenly asks next to me, and I glance up at him. Even Jensen gives me a confused look.
“What?”
“Would you mind sharing your table?” He nods to Nic and Lauren, who glance around the café cluelessly, trying to gauge who might get up soon and free up their table.
The bad news is nobody will. It’s the middle of the daily afternoon rush, which means everyone and their mother and grandma are in here, checking the special afternoon snack of the day. Today, it’s cinnamon rolls with walnut pieces—since I’m Caleb’s taste tester for pastries, I already know they’re divine. I also know that one of them is reserved for me, waiting somewhere behind that counter.
“Yeah, of course,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but judging by the amused look he shoots me, I’m failing spectacularly.
“Great. Then you’re getting company. Over here!” He waves the two of them over, and before I know it, they scoot into the seats opposite me.
“Anyway, it wasn’t a one-off. I’m about 92 percent sure my house is haunted,” Nic continues their conversation as she scoots into the booth. “Hi, Henry. It’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Nic. Lauren,” I greet the two of them with a polite smile. “Just an FYI, Jensen Ackles is under this table, and hewillbeg for food.”
“You know, I will never get tired of that name,” Lauren says with a giggle, then leans down to peek under the table. “Such a handsome boy!”
Jensen gets up from between my feet and trots over to her for some well-deserved pets. Meanwhile, I turn to Nic, only now realizing what she just told her friend.
“Wait. Your house is what now?” I ask before taking a sip of my cappuccino.
“Haunted,” she declares with a sigh and a convinced nod. “And I’m pretty sure it’s by the ghost of a maybe disgruntled, maybe attention-seeking cat.”
I almost spit out my coffee, though I’m not sure if it’s out of surprise or amusement.
“Wasn’t it newly built? How can there be a ghost?”
“That’s what makes it even worse,” she groans and hides her face in her hands. “I mean, a two-hundred-year-old haunted Victorian mansion with cobwebs and creaking floor—sure, I’d expect that. I’d probably buy a velvet robe, get myself a fancy candle holder, and embrace the gothic lifestyle.” She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “I’d spend my evenings reciting Edgar Allan Poe in the hallways and ask a skull whether to be or not to be. But the paint is barely dry on this house, and here I am, dealing with a ghost cat scratching my doors and pushing glasses off my kitchen counter.”
“So, ghost kitty is, like, the official paranormal diagnosis?” Lauren asks with a chuckle, then nods at my dog. “We should call the Winchester brothers.”
“I bet it’s Chaos,” Nic says with a deep sigh as she contemplatively gazes out of the window. “Come to think of it”—she turns to me and narrows her eyes—“shouldn’t she technically be your ghost then, too?”
“Hate to disappoint you, but the only scary sounds in my home are this one’s farts,” I say with a chuckle and point to where I assume my dog is under the table. As if he understood me, he suddenly appears by my leg and pulls a face that resembles a smile.
“Yes, you are,” I coo, brushing my hand over his head. “Such a scary creature.”
“Please,” Caleb scoffs, appearing at the table out of nowhere. “I’ve seen bread that was scarier than your dog. How are you two doing? Are you settling in okay?”
“Youare scarier than my dog,” I scoff back and grin at Jensen, who agrees with a soft whine. From the corner of my eye, I see Nic rummaging in her bag, then pulling out her phone.She glances at it for a moment before swiping and making it disappear in her bag again.
“Henry and Nic are ghost parents. That’s how we’re doing.” Lauren snickers and looks up at Caleb. “Can I get a pumpkin spice latte, please?”
“None of that sugar shit here. I have coffee and milk, and I can get you any combination of those.”
“Then a regular latte macchiato, please,” Lauren says, her lips pursed into a pout. Nic quickly adds, “Make it two, please.”
“Coming right up—wait, what? Ghost parents?”
“That took a while,” I tease him and duck when he lowers his notepad, without a doubt to slap it against the back of my head. What can I say? Gentle head slaps are a sign of love in this café.
“Nic thinks her house is haunted.”
“I not only ‘think’, Iknow.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares at Lauren. “There are no cracks in my doors, and there is no way any wind is getting into my house. Yet I keep hearing those scratching noises. Lauren was there; she heard it too!”
