Page 24 of The Pumpkin Spice Cafe
ChapterEleven
Logan’s boots crunched over the dry leaves as he went out to check on the goats. He had to replace the sign next to their pen.
No donuts.The goats absolutely were not supposed to eat the apple-cider donuts he sold during apple-picking season, but that didn’t stop every other kid from trying to feed them donuts. And these goats did not know what was good for them.
Kinda like him. Kinda like how he hadn’t stopped thinking about Jeanie since he spent the night with her. For two damn days now, Jeanie had played on a loop in his head. Jeanie’s delighted grin when he told a lame joke, Jeanie’s enthusiasm for every type of snack food, Jeanie’s rich dark-roast scent, Jeanie’s soft body pressed against his.
He hammered the sign back to the fence post hard enough to rattle the slats all the way down, taking out his frustration on the wood. The sound reverberated through the quiet fields. A flock of crows flew to the treetops, their squawking disrupting the quiet even more.
He was being ridiculous, getting sucked in way too fast, just like last time. He barely knew this woman. Even if she had shared bits of herself in the dark of the café. Even if hewantedto know all about her.
Jeanie had barely been here for two weeks. She was starting a completely new job, in a new town, and this was all after she’d found her boss keeled over on his desk. Who knew if she’d even be here if it wasn’t for that. Jeanie was running, and there was no guarantee that she would stop here. He’d be damned if he fell for another woman who was only passing through. He was done with people who used his town, his life, as some sort of pit stop on their soul-searching tour.
Hadn’t Jeanie said she’d wanted things to be perfect here? That she had some kind of vision for how she wanted her life to be here? Well, there was no such thing as perfect, and he wasn’t going to be the one caught trying to make Jeanie’s life vision come true. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t work.
It never did.
The goats, Dylan and Marley, or the Bobs as his nana liked to call them, stared at him forlornly like they knew the sign meant the end of their donut days.
‘It’s for your own good,’ Logan muttered, and the Bobs bleated in response. They loved those damn donuts.
Logan trudged back to the farmhouse, wishing there was more to do today to take his mind off a certain someone. But it was a Wednesday morning in October; it was a quiet time for his little farm.
The orchard was only open Friday through Sunday for pick-your-own apples and pumpkins, with a hayride pulled by his grandfather atop his trusty tractor. It was the only real attraction. Logan refused to add all the nonsense some of the other farms around here did in the fall. No bounce houses, or corn mazes, or pony rides. Not that he had a pony. It was just the apples and pumpkins, donuts from Annie’s, and the hayrides. Oh, and the Bobs. But the kids and families loved it. The money the farm made from pick-your-own apples kept the farm afloat for the whole winter.
But nearly halfway through October and the apples were almost done and even the pumpkin patch looked pretty picked over. The last big event of the season was the Fall Festival in town. Logan always supplied the pumpkins for the carving contest. He’d set dozens aside in the barn for the occasion.
Unfortunately, between his still competent grandparents, his tendency to want to get ahead, and the diligent seasonal workers he’d hired, there wasn’t much to do on this particular Wednesday when he really needed something to do. Fixing that sign hadn’t taken nearly long enough.
He only made deliveries on Thursdays, and the farmer’s market wasn’t until Sunday afternoon. He could work on invoices for the seeds and supplies they’d need for spring, but he was feeling too antsy for that type of work today.
Maybe a cup of coffee would help.
He was dumber than the damn goats.
But he climbed in his truck and headed into town anyway.
* * *
Logan realized his mistake as soon as he stepped into the café.
It was Wednesday.
Book club day.
The bells over the door jingled as he stepped in, and five heads turned in his direction from their perches around the center table. Six, if you included Jeanie who stood next to the table, smiling her big Jeanie smile. His heart rode a roller coaster in his chest at the sight of her.
He should have stayed with the goats.
‘Logan! Hey there!’ Kaori’s voice filled the small space and Nancy waved him over, as though he couldn’t find them in the crowd of three other people hurrying out with their to-go cups.
‘Come on over here and say hi to your old teacher,’ Nancy said with a grin, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Logan didn’t really want to know what kinks the woman who taught him to tie his shoes was into at the moment.
He sighed and ran a hand down his beard. There was no way around it. He made his way over to the table and nodded to the group.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like these people. They were perfectly fine, normal people. Well, normal by Dream Harbor standards anyway.
But he didn’t want their pity or their sympathetic looks or their ‘help’ finding someone new, which seemed to be all they wanted to give him since the Christmas-tree-lighting debacle. It was like he was five years old again, suddenly without a mother but with an entire town of people wanting to check on him and bring him treats.
