Page 34 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice (Wayward Hollow #1)

Henry

Lauren: Come to Caleb’s. NOW.

“Fuck,” I mumble, lowering my camera and quickly slipping the lens cap back on before tucking it into my bag. I whistle sharply for Jensen Ackles, who immediately comes running to me.

It was time for another long hike, somewhere far enough from civilization for him to run wild and free without spooking other dogs or cows.

And by that, I mean a whole twenty minutes outside of Wayward Hollow, a spot with vast grassland and beautiful hills as far as we can see.

I love this spot, especially in spring when the entire scenery is a giant flower ocean.

Though it’s not any less photogenic in fall, with trees turning orange in the distance and leaves in all kinds of autumn colors flying around us.

Jensen yawns, clearly exhausted from running around as he trots beside me, ready for a warm, soft spot to take a nap in. Good thing it’s only a few more minutes to where I parked the car, where he can do exactly that.

As I walk, I can’t stop thinking about Lauren’s text.

What’s going on? With the state things are in and how little information Lauren messaged me, this could be about anything.

Did Jay an d Marissa pick another fight with Nic?

Did Mr. Peterson actually bring out the pitchforks?

Maybe Chaos brought another cat to Nic. What if I get into Wayward Hollow and the whole town is on fire?

I pick up my pace as we make our way back to the car: I drive to Caleb’s at what must be record speed for me. Curiosity and a sense of impending doom weigh on my shoulders, as worry about Nic gnaws at my conscience.

My car comes to a screeching halt in front of Caleb’s, and my eyes flick around, confused. There’s nobody around, which is not surprising for Wayward Hollow on a late Sunday afternoon. The windows are dark, and I can’t see movement inside. Is it closed?

Right. It’s Sunday. He’s usually closed today, but why would Lauren order me here then? Did she get it wrong?

I’m about to call her when I see her head pop out the door, quickly waving at Jensen and motioning for us to hurry inside.

“What’s going on?” I ask her once the door closes behind us, somehow compelled to whisper.

“It’s a town meeting,” she answers just as softly with a mischievous grin, though her eyes dart around nervously.

“What the—?” It’s packed at Caleb’s. Jensen immediately wants to race off to meet his favorite people. I hand the leash to the first person who falls victim to his charm, knowing full well I’ll get him back by the end of whatever the hell is happening here.

I can’t remember the last time anyone called a town meeting. And when they did, we met up in the town square.

“Is the whole town here?” I ask, surprised when I internally tally up who I see.

“Henry.” Lauren gives me a hard stare. “I’m new here. How would I know?”

“You’ve got a good point,” I admit. Bewildered, I make my way through the crowd over to Caleb and find Nic leaning agains t the counter, her face breaking into a smile as I get closer. Lauren stays where she is, eyes darting around the room uneasily.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I greet Nic with a quick kiss and put my arm around her shoulder.

“Hey, hot stuff,” she whispers with a grin and snakes her arm around my middle. I glance over her head at Caleb, who isn’t impressed at all.

I am, though. I never would have guessed that the café could host the whole damned town if it had to. “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on here?”

“Trust me, I’d love to know too.” His arms are crossed over his chest, and he shakes his head at someone trying to place an order.

“Apparently, I’m hosting, but all I got was a message from Harry telling me to show up, and then boom, he ambushed me into opening the place for a town meeting. ” He mutters a curse under his breath.

“I didn’t even get a heads-up. And don’t give me those puppy eyes.

I’m not firing up the coffee machines. They take forever to heat, then forever to clean, and at this point, it’s about the principle.

They can’t warn me, nobody gets coffee.” He curses more about how that would fuck with his inventory when suddenly a loud voice booms over the confused murmur.

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”

Harry has climbed onto one of the tables, swaying dangerously, and I can see Caleb’s face turning red with anger as he quickly scans the countertop for something to throw. I bet that right about now, he wishes he had opened up and had a mug handy.

“Get down from there, Harry! I got no insurance if you fall on your damned face because you decided to play Tarzan in my coffee shop!”

Caleb has never been Harry’s biggest fan as is.

In fact, he loathes the man who always reminds me of the horse from Tangle d.

Not because he has a long face, but because he can get that same unhinged, wide-eyed look in his eyes.

He’s the head of our town’s council and when Caleb first opened up the café, they had some run-ins that left a sour taste in his mouth.

There was the time Harry demanded he painted the sign for his café green—not for any particular reason, but because he thought it would match the town’s aesthetic better.

But despite his HOA comparable pettiness, overall, Harry is all right. Now that he finally has grandchildren, he complains much less about small details.

“All right, all right,” Harry mutters and climbs down, the town collectively gasping when he sways as if he loses his balance. Instead, he motions for everyone else to sit down and only continues once they do.

“I am sorry for this impromptu meeting, but there is something urgent we need to talk about collectively, as a town, regarding the autumn fair this weekend.”

Everyone quiets down, not even a whisper in the room, anxiety turning the air into thick syrup.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Peterson asks, swinging his cane.

“Somebody is trying to sabotage Wayward Hollow’s beloved autumn festival.” The whole crowd gasps, shocked. Nic suddenly tenses in my hold, and I press my lips to her temple.

“There have been complaints filed for”—Harry checks a list in his hands—“improper food handling. The setup being against code. Fire hazards. Noise.” He shakes his head, listing off a few more items that sound more and more ridiculous.

“It’s them,” Nic whispers and lets her head fall against my shoulder. “It has to be.”

“If they wanted to anger the whole town, they certainly achieved that,” I murmur and take a deep breath.

“Now, I assure you that everything has the proper permits, and the setup has been double checked by the county’s fire depart ment.

The health department will be here tomorrow for another inspection, but I see no issues arising.

Everyone, please know that it’s our highest priority to provide you a safe and fun autumn fair, as we have done every year. ”

Harry scans the room. “And I do not appreciate someone trying to interfere with this festival that has been a staple in Wayward Hollow ever since the town was founded. If anyone has anything to say, please do so now.”

“I bet it’s that weird homeless couple!” Courtney exclaims, her husband nodding along vehemently as she earns a murmur of agreement from the rest of the town.

Nic’s eyes widen before her whole body starts shaking with laughter.

“Homeless couple,” she whispers, hiding her face behind her hand. “God, that’s golden.”

“Can’t we kick them out of town?” Andrea asks loudly, shaking her head. “Those two almost destroyed one of my hotel rooms. They’re bad news.”

“They always drive too fast too!” someone else speaks up. “They almost swiped my car. Three times!”

“I’m afraid ‘almost’ isn’t quite enough of a reason to run them out of town,” Harry says, not too happy with that assessment himself.

“For now, we are fully cooperating with any departments that receive complaints because we are up to code. We have nothing to hide. But if any of you run into more issues with those two”—he takes a good look around the room—“tell me. I’ll see what’s possible.

And no, ‘almost’ doing something doesn’t count. ”

“Aw, man,” Lauren pouts, and I startle. When did she get over here? The rest of the room breaks into mumbles about their dissatisfaction as well until Harry claps his hands so loudly it makes Nic flinch.

“That’s all!” Harry states, and everyone streams out of Caleb’s, until its name giver, Lauren, Kieran, Nic, Jensen Ackles , and I are the only people left inside, silent anger brewing in all of us.

“Oh, thank God, I was getting claustrophobic,” Lauren whispers, still a little pale. Caleb slides a glass of water over the counter wordlessly, and she offers him a small smile before taking a tiny sip.

“We need a plan,” Lauren announces, determined, and takes a seat on one of the bar stools, the rest of us following suit. Apart from Caleb, who stays in his usual spot behind it, arms crossed in front of his chest and his signature unreadable expression on his face. “They can’t stay here.”

“You don’t say.” Nic rolls her eyes at her best friend. “But what can we do? Harry was right, ‘almost’ doesn’t quite cut it.”

“I’ve heard people mention pitchforks,” Lauren points out, and I laugh when I see the glee in Kieran’s eyes. “I vote that!”

“It’s sounds tempting,” Nic concedes with a shrug. “I can’t say I’d be opposed.”

Suddenly, Lauren’s phone buzzes, and she excuses herself, walking to the other end of the room to take the call.

“They did what?”

All of our heads whip around. Lauren stands as still as a statue, all of our eyes on her back as she listens to whatever the person on the other end tells her.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. I’ll tell her.”

She turns around slowly, her face set in stone and jaw grinding ever so slightly. With an annoyed sigh, she lifts her hand to rub her forehead, probably wondering if she’s surrounded by idiots and is about to burst into a song about world domination.

“I have good news, and I have bad news,” Lauren says and looks at Nic, who is squeezing my hand as if it’s her personal stress toy.

“Bad news first,” she whispers, and Lauren nods.

“That was Massimo, wondering if I also got a weird message from someone claiming to be ‘looking out’ for them”—she uses air quotations and rolls her eyes as she says it—“or sent screenshots of conversations you allegedly had about me.”

“Those fuckers,” I mutter, but Nic squeezes my hand again.

“And the good news?”

“He knows it’s bullshit.” Lauren shrugs, and the corner of her lip twitches. “And everyone else he’s talked to also knows this is a setup. He says ‘hi’ and hopes you’re well, and if you need a witness statement from him or anything, let him know.”

“That’s good. Right?” Kieran asks, eyes darting between Lauren and Nic.

“I can’t believe they went ahead with it,” Nic whispers. Her face turns from hurt to angry within moments. “You mentioned pitchforks?”

“Let’s try a nonviolent way to get rid of them first,” Lauren suggests, glancing at all of us with determination in her eyes.

“That smile scares me,” Nic points out, but then leans closer. “I’m all ears.”

“We need to be one step ahead,” Lauren starts, and cracks her knuckles.

“So. I think it’s fair to say they’re planning something for the fair.

Knowing them, it’s something that would embarrass Nic and what they perceive would ruin her reputation.

Maybe they will call paparazzi, or maybe they will drive their car into a booth—we need to be prepared, friends! ”

“I don’t think they’d drive their car into anything,” Nic says contemplatively. “Jay is too proud of that ugly thing to risk scratching it.”

“The paparazzi sound likely though,” I point out. “Maybe they’ll crash one of the evening performances?”

“It does sound more likely,” Nic admits, worry etching a crease between her eyebrows.

“Then we’ll turn the tables on them.” Lauren might as well have a light bulb over her head. “Here’s what we’ll do …”