Page 22 of The Pumpkin Spice Spell
“Plenty of time to catch up,” he says. “You’ll have to come to one of our Friday pizza nights. Finn’s a regular.”
I nod, “Yeah, that’d be good.”
Then I hear familiar voices from the dock.
Rowan and Ivy, arms linked, coffee cups in hand, strolling toward us.“Heyyy, Holloway!” Rowan calls out, loud enough for the entire harbor to hear. “You done pretending to fix that boat yet?”
Ivy grins, adding wiggling her fingers, playfully, “We’re watching you, you know. Break our sister’s heart again, and we’ll feed you to the lobsters.”
Remy laughs under his breath beside me. “You really picked the stubborn one. Rowan is…a little unhinged. Ivy is the sweet one. I guess you messed up when the sweet one is making threats at you.”
“Yeah,” I say, shaking my head, but smiling despite myself. “I definitely did.”
Remy lifts an eyebrow. “Speaking of…how are things with Willa?”
I sigh, laughing under my breath as I lean back against the railing. “She’s a hard one to win over. Not as welcoming as the rest of the town.”
He nods, not missing a beat. “Yeah.”
Junie jumps down from the chair and comes to tug at my sleeve, holding up two of my bottles, looking up at me earnestly. “Do pirates leave messages in bottles too, Mr. Tate?”
I freeze for a second, then laugh, crouching again so we’re eye level. “Yeah. Sometimes that’s how they say what they can’t say out loud.”
She nods, as if that makes perfect sense.
Remy claps me on the shoulder as he hoists Junie back into his arms. “Good luck, man,” he says, eyes twinkling. “You’re gonna need it.”
They head down the dock, Junie waving enthusiastically over his shoulder, and I can’t help but stand there watching them for a moment longer than I probably should.
Ivy and Rowan come up to where I’m standing.
Rowan nudges me with her coffee cup. “So…ready to co-chair a festival with our very difficult sister?”
I shake my head. “I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
Ivy snorts. “Yeah, but this is how you can get her to talk to you. And nice touch with the message in the bottle by the way. I’ve caught her re-reading the note.”
This makes me smile. Because for the first time since I left, this feels…right. Like I’m exactly where I should be, surrounded by people who know me, even the parts I tried to leave behind.
Even Willa. Especially Willa.
I wasn’t planning on running into Willa tonight. But that doesn't mean she's not on my mind.
I've missed Marco's, andI just wanted pasta and maybe to sit in the back, enjoy a plate of something hot, and quietly figure out how I’m going to restore this boat and what I’m doing with my life. But when I push open the door, there she is, already at the counter, arms crossed, waiting for her takeout order. She looks lost in her thoughts despite Marco’s busy arcade and families packed in at every table.
She hasn’t noticed me yet. Then she glances up, and her eyes meet mine.And there it is, that spark, that flash of annoyance mixed with something else she probably doesn’t want to admit is still there.She turns back to the counter like she’s going to pretend she hasn’t seen me. Classic Willa.
Marco, of course, notices everything.
“Ahhh, look at this,” he booms, leaning over the counter toward us with a grin as wide as Main Street itself. “Two beautiful people ordering pasta at the same time. You know what this means, yes?”
Willa closes her eyes briefly, as if she’s praying for strength. “Marco, please—” she starts.
But he’s already waving her off, delighted. “It’s a Lady and the Tramp moment!” he declares, gesturing between us. “Pasta dinner for two! I threw in extra! For the next great love story of Wisteria Cove!”
My laugh escapes before I can stop it, and Willa shoots me a sharp glare for encouraging him.
“You two! Come back soon for dinner together, eh?” Marco winks, sliding our takeout bags toward us with a flourish. “On the house tonight. My gift to love.”
