Page 74 of The Pumpkin Spice Cafe
Jeanie’s eyes widened. ‘You hired someone to break my window?’
‘Not specifically. I just thought he could make things a little ...untidyaround here.’
‘Oh.’ The syllable was quiet, defeated.
‘Again, I apologize.’ And with that, he picked up his home-made snacks and other belongings and left Jeanie sitting with her head in her hands.
The way she saw it, she had two choices. One, she could curl up in a ball on the perpetually sticky floor of the break room and stay there for the rest of forever. Or, two, she could get up and go to work in her café.
She groaned into her hands. Choice one was tempting. Rolling up in a ball sure seemed like the right call. A ball was cozy, protective. She could live happily on the floor, scrounging for crumbs, never facing another adult responsibility – or sexy farmer who turned out to be a complete jerk – ever again. Tempting, indeed. However, there were downsides. The main one being the sticky floor. No matter how many times she mopped back here the floor remained sticky and she didn’t know why. It was not knowing the source of the stickiness that really grossed her out. She didn’t want to be sticky. Also, she would be quitting on Crystal and Aunt Dot, and herself. Which she didn’t particularly want to do.
Despite what Logan said. The big dummy.
So that left her with one option. She tied on her apron and got her butt in gear.
‘Hey Crystal, sorry about that.’
Crystal glanced over her shoulder as Jeanie emerged from the back room. She blew out a sigh of relief. ‘Oh, thank God,’ she said with a flustered smile. ‘You’re here.’
Yes, she was here, damn it. This was her damn café. And despite Norman’s efforts and Logan’s fears, she wasn’t going anywhere.
She stepped up to the counter. ‘Hey, Marco. The usual?’
The man gave her a friendly smile. ‘Hey, Jeanie. That would be perfect.’
Jeanie nodded and got to work.
ChapterTwenty-Nine
‘All right, where is he?’ Annie’s voice filled the house before she did.
‘Kitchen.’ His grandmother didn’t even hesitate before she threw him under the bus.
‘How bad is it?’ Another voice. Hazel was here, too. Wonderful.
‘Pretty bad. He’s cleaned the house from top to bottom and rebuilt the chicken coop.’
Logan frowned. Was it so bad that he cleaned when he was upset? There were worse things he could do. And he’d been meaning to fix that coop. He just happened to have time now that the Fall Festival was over. And he had no beautiful new café owners to help.
His stomach turned like it did every time he thought about the festival and Jeanie and everything that happened after it. It had been a week since he’d seen her.
And since he’d had a decent cup of coffee.
It was killing him.
But he knew it would hurt worse if he let himself get in any deeper with her, only for her to decide she was done with her little experiment here. He couldn’t do it.
‘Okay, Mr. Clean. Drop the rag,’ Annie said, coming into the kitchen with a basket of muffins in her hands.
‘Actually, he has more of a Bounty Man vibe going on,’ Hazel added, cocking her head to the side and taking in his signature beard and flannel shirt.
‘Ha. Ha.’
Annie didn’t waste time making herself at home –this was her second home, after all; had been since they were kids. Annie was one of six and she fell somewhere in the middle. In a family so big, it was hard not to get lost in the mix. Annie loved the attention of Nana and Grandpa, and Logan liked having an occasional pretend sister around.
Not that he would admit that right now when she was hustling around his kitchen making tea and sticking her nose in his business.
Hazel sat at the table and grabbed a muffin, but Logan caught her stealing sad glances at him out of the corner of her eye. The exact type of look he’d been trying to avoid. Annie set down a cup of tea in front of Hazel and slid into a seat at the table. She grabbed a muffin and slowly peeled the wrapper, staring at him with that damn disappointed look on her face. He couldn’t take it.
