Page 12 of The Pumpkin Spice Cafe
But now as she sat here looking at the tidy little café,hertidy little café, that she had zero business running, Jeanie thought she may have made a mistake.
The space was small, just big enough for a few round tables and chairs and Jeanie tried to imagine it filled with customers. Her heart squeezed with excitement and nerves.
The bay window in the front was the perfect nook for two cozy chairs, worn down with age and use. Jeanie’s apartment above the shop shared the same original hardwood floors, something Barb Sanders had raved about. In the middle of the room stood the L-shaped counter with one side for the register and one side for a few more bar stools. The glass case next to the register was filled with Annie’s treats. The walls were painted a creamy white and filled with paintings by local artists. Little torn bits of paper stuck on the wall beside them told the title and the price.
Jeanie stared at a particularly large painting across the room from her of a big purple cow. Did the artist get nervous about hanging it? Did she sit at home with a sick feeling in her belly that she wasn’t actually a very good painter at all? Did she worry about what people would think about her colorful farm animals or did she just go for it?
The knock at the back door disrupted her existential crisis and her staring contest with the cow. She hopped down from her stool and went to the back, pulling off her apron as she went. She’d put it on this morning with the hopes that it would make her feel more official. No luck there.
Logan was the last person she expected to see at her door, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a flutter of excitement at finding him there.
‘Hi,’ she said, opening the door wider.
‘Here,’ he said, not bothering with a greeting. He held out his hand and, in his palm, rested a small box.
‘Um ... what...’
‘Sorry. They’re earplugs. I thought they might help ... uh...’ Logan ran a hand down his beard, his cheeks above it pinkening, ‘... to help you sleep tonight. Before your big day.’
You are not here for the local farmers, Jeanie reminded herself, but the sweetness of the gift, paired with the slightly awkward delivery, was making it very hard to remember why she wasn’t here for the farmers. Specifically, the large, handsome one currently darkening her doorstep.
‘Thank you! That’s very nice of you.’ She took the little box from his hand, dutifully ignoring how big it was and how rough and warm his palm was against her fingers.
‘I brought a new lock, too. Noticed the one on the back door doesn’t work right.’
‘You ... brought a new lock? For me? For uh ... for my door?’ Had it just been a very long time since Jeanie had dated anyone, or was this the most romantic gesture she’d ever experienced?
‘Yeah, well, I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep if your lock was bad.’ He fidgeted with the chain lock he’d pulled out of his back pocket. ‘Not that there’s really anything to worry about around here. I just figured...’ His voice faded away as his gaze snagged on Jeanie’s smile. His cheeks darkened.
‘That’s perfect. Thank you, really. That’s so kind of you. It would have made me nervous to not be able to hear, but with my new lock, I’m sure I’ll sleep peacefully. Tomorrow’s a big day and I need to be ready.’
He blinked. ‘Right.’
Right. She was rambling. ‘I’ll take that, I guess. I’m sure I can figure out how to attach it to the door.’
‘No need.’ Logan was already grabbing the toolbox at his feet. ‘I’ll have it on in a few minutes.’
‘Oh. Okay. Great.’ Jeanie stepped back and let him in, and then she definitely didn’t stand there and admire his forearms flexing as he screwed the lock into her door. She certainly didn’t breathe deeper to get more of his fall-leaves-and-woodsmoke scent into her lungs. She wouldn’t do that because Logan was just a friendly neighbor, and she was just here for a fresh start. And she was not a crazy person.
But as he finished up and Jeanie’s immediate reaction was sadness to see him go, she couldn’t help but think that Hazel was right.
Her feelings for the handsome farmer were worse than she thought.
‘Will you be here in the morning? For coffee?’Of course, for coffee, Jeanie. What else would he be here for? Don’t answer that,she admonished herself.
Logan straightened, dropping his screwdriver back into the toolbox. ‘Wouldn’t miss it.’
The coffee.He was talking about the coffee.
But something about the way he was looking at her, the small lift of his mouth at the corner, she thought maybe it wasn’t just the coffee. And then Annie’s words came back to her, Logan tends to fall hard, he had his heart broken. Jeanie was in no place to be responsible for someone’s heart. Certainly not someone as sweet as Logan. Not when she didn’t have a clue what she was doing here or who she even was anymore.
‘Great,’ she said, the word a bit too loud, too sharp as she nudged Logan toward the door. ‘See you tomorrow, then. And thanks again.’ She shut the door behind the bewildered farmer a bit too quickly, but she had to get him out before she did something she would regret, like bury her face in his soft flannel shirt and ask him to stay.
Logan was not responsible for helping her with the current messy state of her life. She needed to get that sorted out before she got anywhere near him, especially with his friends and the whole town watching.
ChapterSix
‘Where you headed so late in the day?’ Logan’s grandmother caught him in the process of trying to slip out quietly.
