Page 39 of The Pumpkin Spice Cafe
Her gaze snagged on his, their dark-brown depths trapping him. ‘Okay.’
‘I’m serious, Jeanie. Weird noises, anything. Call.’
She nodded, her fake smile slowly transforming to genuine. ‘I will call. I promise.’
‘Okay. Good.’
‘Thanks, Logan.’
‘Goodnight, Jeanie.’
ChapterSeventeen
Holy crap, that man is a good kisser.
Jeanie leaned back against the door in the dark trying to catch her breath. But her breath would not cooperate because all her brain wanted to think about was Logan’s mouth on hers and his hands raking across her body and his solid waist between her legs.
Oh God, had she actually confessed to wanting to jump into his arms since the day she met him? She could have been embarrassed about that, but then she remembered the way his groan had vibrated through her when she said it. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing she could have said.
But then whoever had been knocking over her damn trash cans had ruined the whole moment. It wasn’t just the trash cans. She didn’t want to tell Logan, but someone had been tipping over her new mums out front, too. Every damn night. Her flowers, her trash, she’d even found her mail strewn all over the sidewalk yesterday. Raccoons didn’t go through your mail. She was pretty sure of it.
Maybe it was kids screwing around? But teenagers loved her pumpkin-spiced lattes! Why would they mess with their supplier? It didn’t make sense.
She was determined not to be a hot mess every time she saw Logan, so she’d held back her theories about someone trying to get rid of her. Well, mostly held back. He was definitely skeptical of Annie’s Mac theory, but it was making more and more sense to Jeanie. Who else would want her gone?
Casper padded down the stairs to greet her. Her original ghost. Maybe Logan was right. Maybe there was a rational explanation for all the rest of this, too. But she was determined to leave Logan out of it. If they were going to ... well, going to make out in dark alleys ... she wanted him to see her in the best possible light. Even if that light was the dim glow of the streetlamp.
And tonight, she felt like she’d nailed it.
She’d gone out with friends. She’d had some freaking fun for the first time in a long time. It was nice.
Making out with Logan was just the cherry on top.
New Jeanie liked cherries.
* * *
Jeanie bolted awake.
The sound of breaking glass tore through her sleep.
What the hell was that?
Her initial instinct was to hide under her covers but then she remembered she had a business to defend and a cat to protect. She peered out from her blankets and found Casper staring at her, wide-eyed in the dark.
‘What was that?’ she whispered but apparently the cat didn’t know, either. Damn cat. She got out of bed and crept toward the window that overlooked the back of the café. A dark figure was back there with a baseball bat.
Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God. This is it. See, people always think cities are dangerous, but small towns are where all the worst serial killers live!
Jeanie bit down on her bottom lip to keep all the crazy words from spilling out. Why? She didn’t know. To appear perfectly stable in front of her cat, apparently. Which was a very stable thing to do.
She watched the figure. A man, probably. Men really had the market cornered on serial killing. He looked around, his movements a bit frantic but also kinda like he was confused and couldn’t really figure out what to do next. Maybe he was a first-time serial killer, in which case, he was just a killer. She would be his first victim. How quaint.
Okay, think, Jeanie. Do something!
She ran back to her bed and dug through the covers for her phone, cursing herself for her terrible habit of watching old episodes ofSchitt’s Creekevery night before bed. Inevitably she fell asleep holding her phone and it would get lost in the blankets. A few times she woke herself up when the phone fell directly onto her face.
Aha! Got it. Now what?
