Page 100 of The Pumpkin Spice Spell
“I’ll think about it,” she says finally. “It does sound kind of...right.”
“Right is the word for it. You both need this. End of story.”
Tate chuckles from the counter. “Now who is meddling.”
“Shut up. You know I'm right,” I tell him with a look.
He gives Ivy a two-finger salute and disappears into the back, humming some ridiculous tune under his breath.
I look at Ivy, and there’s a spark in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It looks like hope. Something I haven’t seen since Derek got ahold of her.
Chapter 30
Tate
The scent of roasting turkey hits me the second I open the door to Lilith’s house. Warm and buttery with that cozy undertone of herbs and something savory, maybe spiced pears or those glazed carrots Willa keeps dreaming about. Honestly, it's probably all of the above. I missed out on these dinners while I was away, and now that I’m back, I’m looking forward to them.
“Our friendship feast is a sacred event,” Lilith declares, her hair pinned up with glittering gold sticks, a cranberry-colored apron tied over a flowy black dress. “And I need a strong back and capable hands. Tate, you’re with me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I set the pies Willa brought down on the table, already covered in mismatched dishes and desserts.
She hands me an oven mitt and gestures toward the turkey like it’s a sacred artifact. “We’re basting. Gently. Like you’re coaxing secrets from a dragon.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” I mutter.
She smirks. “And yet you’re doing it beautifully.”
I grin and bend down to check the oven, the heat hitting my face in a blast. The turkey looks perfectly golden brown, glistening, surrounded by orange slices and herbs.
Lilith leans close as I close the oven door. “You know, I’m thankful for you this year,” she says softly. “You’ve brought something back to this house. To my daughter and to this town.”
My throat tightens. “Lilith…”
She pats my shoulder. “Don’t get weepy on me, Holloway. There’s still cranberry sauce to stir.”
By the time the guests start pouring in, the house smells like heaven. Candles flicker in the windows, the fireplace is roaring, and the backyard has been strung with fairy lights like she’s hosting a wedding instead of a potluck.
Old Pete sits in the kitchen, fixing the leg of a creaky wooden chair Lilith rescued from the shed.
I pause for a second, watching him. His hands are steady, his face focused. Willa walks up behind him, pressing a jacket around his shoulders. They whisper. I can’t hear what they say, but I see her kiss his cheek, and I swear I see him wipe his eyes.
This town and these people…they wrap themselves around you when you’re not looking and claim you.
Ivy shows up late. She’s wearing a rust-colored dress and boots, but her eyes are red like she’s been crying. Willa catches her first, drawing her into a hug while Rowan hurries over with a glass of wine and a concerned look.
“What happened?” I murmur to Willa as she passes by.
“Boyfriend trouble,” she whispers. “She said he tried to keep her from coming today. Said he hid her car keys.”
I frown. “That guy’s a walking red flag.”
Before dinner’s ready, the house is full, with Finn and Rowan bickering about deviled eggs, Donna and Lilith laughing together, and Pete sitting near the fire, watching everyone with contentment. Ivy is playing dominoes with Junie while Remy sneaks glances at her from the kitchen doorway. And me?
I belong here. Somehow, in all the mess of the past, I landed in the middle of this noisy, heartfelt, ridiculous chosen family.
And when Willa threads her fingers through mine on her way to the table, everything settles.
The lights dim slightly. Everyone gathers around the main table, with so many chairs and mismatched dishes.
