Page 12 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
Lauren and I exchange a glance, and I lift a hand to slowly count down from three with my fingers.
God, this feels like we’re in the middle of a horror movie.
I tear the door open, shouting“Haaaaah!” to surprise the perpetrator, only toreveal … “Nothing?”
“What?” Lauren pulls the door open wider, also stunned when there’s nothing on the other side. “I heard it crystal clear. What the hell?”
“Oh my God, please don’t tell me I bought myself a haunted house.” I close the door and stride over to the kitchen, pinching the bridge of my nose. Nope, I will pretend the last five minutes never happened. “Did they—ah. Thank God. They also brought my groceries.” I find a bottle of wine in my fridge, and after opening five drawers, a corkscrew as well. “God, I need a drink.”
“And I’m right there with you.” Lauren nods and opens the cupboards to find wine glasses. Then she grows impatient and grabs the first thing she finds, which are mugs with little cartoon crocodiles on them. “It’s a small housewarming party.”
“Nobody I’d rather have it with.” I fill them up, then I clink my mug against hers and take a sip, grimacing when it hits my tongue. “God, that is awful.”
“Still not a wine girlie?”
“Apparently not.” I take another sip, much to Lauren’s amusement when my face stretches into a grimace yet again. “Nope.”
“You have lemonade in your fridge. Just mix it.” She takes a sip of her glass, humming happily when she tastes it.
“Good idea.” I jump off the bar stool at my kitchen island and open my way too big fridge. If doomsday ever comes—as long as I have power—this baby will feed me for months once filled. Holy hell. “Don’t tell anyone from France, though. They’ll have my head.”
“Nah, I think they banned guillotines a while back.”
I giggle as I grab the lemonade from the fridge door.
“Also, the wine is from Italy. You’re good.”
“Thank God,” I chuckle and fill up my mug to the brim, then take a sip. “Yeah, that’s better.”
“Well, here’s to a new start, pretty men, and a peaceful life.” She lifts her cup again.
“Yeah. To that.” The two cups make a deep sound as they clink against each other. The two of us keep sipping while enjoying the silence, looking outside where the sun disappears behind the mountain tops on the other side of the lake. Gentle waves flicker in the orange sunlight and trees sway in the soft wind.
“Where did summer go?” Lauren asks suddenly and sets hers down.
“Fitting though, isn’t it? New season, a new beginning …”
“Right.”
We shoot each other smiles, then startle again when we hear a scratching at the door.
“Nic, I hate to say it, but you might—”
“Yup. Guess I’ve got a haunted house.”
“So cool. I’m sleeping over.” She reaches for the wine and pours herself some more. “If you don’t mind.”
“You are always welcome to my haunted guestroom.”
“Speaking of ghosts. We should find a spot for your little, short-lived friend while there’s still light.”
“I guess we should.” My eyes dart over the grass reaching from my home down to the lake. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 3
Henry
The bell above the entrance door to Caleb's Café rings and his eyes dart to me as soon as I enter.
