Page 42 of The Pumpkin Spice Cafe
That little tidbit was actually more information than she usually got out of him about his love life. All she really knew was he dated but still hadn’t found anyone worth keeping, or mentioning, or bringing home to meet the family. Not yet, anyway.
Are you in danger?
No, I’m fine. Go to sleep. I’ll just rewatch season 4 again.
Schitt’s Creek?
Of course.
David and Patrick forever.
Exactly. Nighty night, little brother.
Night, Jeanie. Don’t get murdered.
Xo.
Jeanie then pulled up Netflix on her phone and pressed play. There was no way she was getting back to sleep tonight.
In fact, she was still awake at 5am when another text flashed on her screen, but this one wasn’t from her brother.
Just wanted to check in. Everything okay?
Logan was checking in on her. Damn, that man was thoughtful.
Good morning! Everything is great. Will I see you for your usual this morning?
Yep. See you later.
See you later!
Jeanie’s finger hovered over the kissy winky emoji. Nope. Too far. She would quit while she was ahead. This was good enough for now. Just right, actually. She could keep things with Logan casual and fun. No need to make things too intense, no need to demand things from Logan that he wasn’t ready to give.
ChapterEighteen
For the second night in a row, Logan found himself in town against his will. It was Nana’s turn to go to the town meeting, but she pulled a muscle at her aqua aerobics for seniors class and had sent Logan in her place. He was hoping he could just confirm the farm’s contribution to the Fall Festival – something he definitely could have done over email if the mayor didn’t insist on doing it in person every year – and get out of there. But, of course, that’s not how these things went in Dream Harbor.
‘Order in the court,’ Pete hollered from the front of the room. ‘Only joking, folks,’ he added with a chuckle. ‘But if people could take their seats, that’d be great.’
The crowd was only half-listening. Everyone was too keyed up about the Fall Festival. It was Dream Harbor’s second-largest event. Second only to the Christmas-tree lighting, which Logan refused to think about.
Logan sat in his usual seat in the back. His shoulders and arms hurt from lugging pumpkins around all day; moving them from one side of the barn to the other when Nana decided they looked better in the dappled sunlight. It had been a long day. After a long night of barely sleeping. He couldn’t get Jeanie out of his head, everything they’d done in that alley. And everything he wished they’d done.
Maybe he should have kissed her again? Maybe he should have stayed?
But the moment had been broken and then he didn’t know what to do. Before Lucy, Logan hadn’t dated many women. Not surprisingly, his inability to strike up a casual conversation didn’t help when trying to meet someone. It was why he thought Lucy was different. At least at first. She didn’t seem to mind his quiet nature. Until she did.
Until she eventually found him and his life here lacking.
It hurt all the more because he thought he’d found someone who understood him. Showed how much he knew about reading women. So when Jeanie backed off last night, he wasn’t about to initiate anything more.
He stretched his arms out in front of him, hands clasped, and cracked his knuckles. He noticed the way his forearms looked with his sleeves rolled up. Then he thought about Jeanie noticing the way his forearms looked with his sleeves rolled up, and heat rushed to his face.
Quickly following that thought was a crowd of others including the taste of her mouth (spiked sweetness), the feel of her thighs around him (strong and warm), and the memory of her body pressed against his (perfection). He dropped his hands into his lap, changing his thoughts to aqua aerobics for seniors before he embarrassed himself.
Good old Logan, ruining town events with ill-fated marriage proposals and inappropriate erections.
He sighed and ran a hand down his beard, praying Pete would keep this meeting short. But so far, the mayor hadn’t even gotten everyone to sit down and shut up so Logan wasn’t holding out a lot of hope.
