Page 30 of The Pumpkin Spice Cafe
Reading was probably safer than hiking, anyway.
ChapterFourteen
‘You sure you don’t want me to stick around for the u-pick crowd today?’
Logan’s grandfather flashed him an exasperated look. ‘Positive.’
The older man pushed another crate of apples into the truck bed. A man of few words, Logan usually appreciated his grandfather’s quiet nature, but at the moment he was looking for any excuse not to go to the farmers’ market and possibly run into Jeanie. Not since he was certain he couldn’t trust himself around her.
Her words from Wednesday had tattooed themselves on his brain.Whoever Lucy was, I think she was a fool to leave.What did she mean? Thatshehad no plans to leave? Maybe all of Logan’s worries were unfounded. And if that was true, then it meant he had no reason not to shoot for more with Jeanie.
Maybe they could keep it quiet for now. No need to alert the town gossip mill right away. But how would Jeanie feel about sneaking around? An image of him and Jeanie in a dark corner, her leg hitched up over his hip, his voice in her ear urging her to be quiet played through his mind with stark clarity.
‘You gonna daydream all morning, or you gonna help me load this truck?’ His grandfather’s aggrieved voice broke through his highly inappropriate Sunday-morning thoughts.
He cleared his throat. ‘Right. Sorry.’ He grabbed another crate, happy for the distraction. This was how he’d been since Wednesday, all in his head about this woman he barely knew. It was too familiar. In the days after he spent that first weekend with Lucy, he’d nearly broken his thumb with a hammer, ordered three times as much fertilizer as they needed, left the gate open, and temporarily lost both Bobs. Nana was beside herself with worry.
Logan had a habit of letting women unravel him.
Which was why he shouldn’t be going to the farmers’ market today. The PS Café always set up a tent with hot cider and pumpkin-spiced lattes right next to Annie’s bakery tent. And he was not ready to see Jeanie again. Not until he had a better grip on himself.
‘Might be a big crowd today. Getting to the end of the season.’ Logan leaned against the side of the truck, wiping the sweat from his brow. The sun was bright, and it was unseasonably warm today. There was a briny scent to the air, drifting in from the harbor, and it felt more like August than October. The weather was as unsettled as his insides.
His grandfather furrowed his bushy gray eyebrows, like two furry caterpillars under the brim of his old Red Sox cap. ‘What’s up with you?’
Logan sighed, running a hand down his face. ‘Nothing at all. Just don’t want to leave you here with a big crowd.’
‘Me and your grandmother can manage. And those kids you hired to run the pick-your-own shack will be here.’
He was right, of course. There was plenty of staff to help his grandparents out, but his grandmother usually did farmers’ market duty. Except for this weekend, when she decided she wanted to ‘soak in all the autumnal excitement at the farm while it lasted.’ Those were her exact words. Impossible to argue with.
His grandfather was still studying him, so he heaved in another crate to avoid the old man’s gaze.
‘You can’t avoid town forever.’
‘I’m not.’
Grandpa huffed. ‘I don’t like crowds much.’
That was an understatement. His grandpa avoided people nearly as much as he did.
‘But I don’t like the idea of you hiding out here just because of what happened.’
Logan made a noise that sounded eerily similar to his grandfather’s huff, and then realized the two of them were standing the same: arms crossed, leaning against the truck bed. Okay, so he was a lot like the old man.
‘Not hiding.’
‘You hid after your mom passed, too.’
‘I was five. And my mother died. I think hiding was warranted.’
‘To a point.’ Grandpa nodded. ‘But eventually, we needed to push you a little. Convince you to play with your friends again. Nearly broke my heart when we had to force you back into school.’
Logan swallowed hard.
‘Had to pull your little hands off my legs at the door. I hated it. Told your grandmother we should just keep you here with us.’
Grandpa took off his hat and ran a hand over his thinning hair. Logan didn’t know that he had tried to keep him home, but he did remember crying every day at school for a month. Mrs. Pine – Nancy, as she made him call her now – let him sit on her lap at story time and carry around a special stuffed elephant she kept on her desk for emotional emergencies. The day Annie declared they were best friends was probably the day he stopped crying.
