Page 6 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice (Wayward Hollow #1)

Nic

I lift my head slowly until I meet the vet’s gaze.

Okay? Am I okay ?

I can’t help it. Before I even realize what’s happening, I’m laughing hysterically.

“Am I okay?” I repeat through tears and take a step back, gingerly setting down Chaos’s lifeless head on the sterile steel table.

For one last time, I run my fingers over her tiny, soft forehead.

“What a great question, Mr. Vet.” I don’t know what to do with my hands, until finally, I clutch the hem of my shirt.

“No. No, I’m not okay. My whole life is going to shit and this little creature dying just became the tip of the shitshow fate is throwing my way.” I start pacing the cramped little room, everything breaking out of me.

“You know, one second, I had a good life. Then I caught my fiancé cheating with my sister, and now I get to pick up the pieces. And I thought she was it.” I point at the lifeless Chaos on the table, more tears falling from my eyes.

“She was well on her way to becoming my living, breathing omen that everything would be all right. I believed so strongly in her recovery, I already imagined how we would navigate this new life together. Hoped some cosmic, I don’t know, entity sent her specifically for me, a sign that there was hope.

The universe saying, ‘Welcome, weary traveler. You’ve made it to Wayward Hollow, and life here will be good.

’ She was going to be the first new friend I made here—the adorable sidekick to this new life. ”

I wipe tears off my cheeks while the rant continues to bubble out of me.

“And now she’s dead. Actually dead. I haven’t even seen my new house yet, not unpacked a single box, and my sign from the universe is just …

gone. This tiny glimmer of hope, yanked away like ‘Whoops, sorry, never meant to get your hopes up!’ And if my hypothetical good omen is now lying dead on this table”—I take a deep breath and turn to face him, all the fight and hope I had, falling from me as my voice breaks—“what does that mean for me?

“Everything is a mess, and I can’t think of anything to make it worse—I know saying that out loud is daring the universe to one-up itself, but I don’t get it. Was she a sign that things would get better or that I still have a way to go to rock bottom?”

I stop, breathing heavily, my eyes burning with even more unshed tears.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying!” I sob, and my eyes jump to little Chaos on the table once more. “Ignore me. Please, for the love of God, pretend you didn’t hear that.” I take another deep breath and square my shoulders, wiping my face before facing him. “So, what now?”

“Eh …” I finally truly look at the man, and it takes everything in me to contain a gasp.

Why is every man in this town so goddamn attractive? First the Sheriff and now the vet?

Obviously, I noticed that he was roughly my age.

But in my panic, I never realized he appeared to be fresh out of a fashion magazine.

His dark green shirt stretches slightly over his muscular shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.

He's got a jaw that looks sharper than the scalpels I can see in the corner of the exam room.

But what makes my cheeks turn red are his eyes .

Beautiful blue eyes that radiate kindness and calm, even though the rest of his face is marked by worry.

His tousled dark blond hair seems intentionally imperfect, every strand laid down with the right precision to make it appear effortless, like he ran his fingers through his hair.

And here I am, probably with mascara running down my face and definitely wearing clothes covered in Chaos’s blood. Because that’s just me and the perfect first impression I intended to make on my future neighbors. All part of my plan. Obviously.

“Would you like to … bury her?” he asks, and my eyes dart back to the table, more tears gathering in my eyes. God, I can’t take my eyes off her. Poor little Chaos.

“You know what?” I clear my throat and blink a few times before I continue. “I think I would like that.” Then I sigh and deflate. “But I wouldn’t even know where, I haven’t even—”

“Been to your house, I know.” My eyes jump back to him, and I open my mouth to apologize again for my earlier rant when his warm hand on my shoulder makes me shut up.

“Don’t worry about it. You had a rough day. Get to your new place and have a warm cocoa.” He tilts his head, then softly shakes it, giving my shoulder a soft, reassuring squeeze. “Maybe a spiked one. I can keep her until tomorrow if you’d rather come to collect her then?”

“That—” I pause as my emotions well up again. “I—”

“You’re welcome. Now, I have to fill out some paperwork. Why don’t you stay with her a bit longer? I have one of the best cuddlers to keep you company.”

“And then he brought me to the waiting room and told me to stay put for a minute, promising he had something to make my day better. And, yes , I know how that sounds, Lauren, but he did not whip his dick out. Nope, he sent in his dog, an adorable husky with the most striking blue eyes,” I tell Lauren, words tumbling over each other.

I’m not doing great by any means. But I can at least pretend to myself that I have a grip on my emotions again.

She appeared at my place only minutes after I pulled into the driveway, quicker than a raccoon sensing an unattended snack. And now, she’s helping me carry the rest of my boxes into my new home.

They hold the kind of mementos I wouldn’t dare trust a moving company with. My electronics, my movie collection, and some photo albums from my childhood I couldn’t bring myself to sort through and burn yet.

“And he didn’t lie. That dog provided peak emotional support. Soft fur, face-licking, the whole nine yards. Definitely made me feel better. I should have asked for its name,” I continue as we walk outside to grab the rest.

“Better consolation than any man could offer,” Lauren says approvingly and snickers.

“I’m glad you’re better now. That sounds like a rollercoaster of a day.

” She opens the trunk to take another box.

“I never knew you had such a big heart for animals, though.” She steps aside so I can grab the last one.

“And you already met the town’s hotties. ”

“If I had a free hand, I’d fan myself,” I admit sheepishly, my cheeks burning. “You should have seen them. With the current quota, this little town must be full of hot guys. It’s two for two. How did you find this town again? A magazine pointing out a single’s dream destination?”

“Swear to God, I was only checking out for cute houses far away from big cities, and the lake was a bonus. Now stop acting as if meeting hot guys is some kind of punishment. ”

A deep sigh falls from my lips as I kick the front door to my new home open. “It’s not. And, I mean, they’re nice too. I can’t imagine dating so soon again after …”

“Those who shall not be named?” Lauren sets down her box in the living room, then shoots me a scrutinizing stare. “I get it. For now. Let’s revisit this conversation in a few months.”

“My answer will be the same,” I tell her with an eye roll and lock the car behind us. “Anyway, what are you complaining about? More hotties for you.”

“Yeah, sure,” she scoffs, but thankfully drops it.

“Thank you for helping me, Lauren.”

“Of course.” She makes her way through the labyrinth of boxes and assembled furniture to give me a tight hug. “We made it,” she mumbles right next to my ear, and I release a deep breath as I throw my arms around her.

“Yeah. We sure did.”

She releases her tight hold on me and takes a step back, a small happy smile playing on her lips.

“It will be great.” I lift my eyebrow, but she puts her hands on my shoulders and gives them a reassuring squeeze. “It will. Just look.” She pushes my shoulders until I turn around. “This house is even more gorgeous than in the photos!”

“Maybe because I’ve paid a good penny to have it renovated and furnished,” I quip, but a spark of optimism is slowly igniting inside me. “Do you want a tour?”

“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes and follows me back to the hallway leading to the front door.

We walk through the ground level, and I make a mental to-do list that I will forget by the time we’re through. Page one: unpacking my movie collection and books and printing some pictures for all the frames I bought for the living room and hallway .

It’s the perfect mix of modern and whimsical. My furniture is made of thick, sturdy wood, created to last forever, the walls adorned with subtle floral wallpapers.

“It’s giving modern fairy,” Lauren whispers at one point, and it makes my lips stretch into a grin. “Or flower witch. The cutesy kind that raises plants and brews love potions instead of casting curses.”

“That’s exactly what I was going for.” I pull her to the kitchen, and the sight takes both of our breaths away.

“Who was your interior designer again?” she asks, voice low in awe.

Huge arched windows provide a perfect view of the lake, only a few trees between my house and the water.

It’s a clear day, allowing us to see all the way to the other side of the lake, where forests turn into mountains, snowy tops shimmering in the evening sun.

“Me. I came up with all this.” I wave my hand around vaguely. “It took forever to find just the right furniture and wallpapers.”

The kitchen is illuminated by the orange evening light, turning the white cupboards and shelves a beautiful peach color.

“Are those … decorative plaster?” Lauren lays back her head and stares at my ceiling. “Nic, this is fancy , fancy.”

“I figured if this becomes my forever home, I should go all out from the beginning,” I whisper with a shrug. “How is your house doing?”

“I’m committed to DIY,” Lauren says with a happy giggle that makes me smile right along with her. “Don’t laugh! But maybe keep your interior designer skills close—and your guest room, well, guest ready.”

“Will do. Just let me know at what point you need a key.” I laugh and slowly walk through the kitchen, drinking in every detail. They even put away all the new cutlery and dishes I bought .

Suddenly, I hear something shuffling somewhere in the house.

“Oh my God, what was that?” I freeze, my gaze jumping around the room in panic.

“What?”

“I heard a sound … a shuffling?” I say and tilt my head, straining my ears and flinching as if I was a balloon dog at a porcupine convention. “There! Did you hear that?” My panicked eyes meet Lauren’s wide ones as she slowly nods.

“I think it’s coming from your front door.” Lauren takes my hand, and as quietly as possible, we creep back through the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. "Is this how we die? An ax murderer on our very first day here?"

"We're not going to get killed by an ax murderer," I whisper back. 'Hopefully' I add, only in my mind.

“There it is again,” Lauren whispers once we reach the front door, and we stare at each other with fear-ridden eyes. Slowly, I peek through the peephole, but I can’t see anyone on the other side of the door.

“Do you actually think an axe murderer would stay in sight?” Lauren hisses, and I shoot her a glare, placing my finger in front of my lips to shut her up.

“A salesman would,” I whisper softly and grab an empty vase, weighing it in my hand. Yes, this can do some damage.

“Good thinking,” she answers equally softly and grabs an umbrella that’s leaning against the wall next to her to use as a weapon.

Lauren and I exchange a glance, and I lift a hand to slowly count down from three with my fingers.

God, this feels like we’re in the middle of a horror movie.

I tear the door open, shouting“Haaaaah!” to surprise the perpetrator, only to reveal … “Nothing?”

“What?” Lauren pulls the door open wider, also stunned when there’s nothing on the other side. “I heard it crystal clear. What the hell?”

“Oh my God, please don’t tell me I bought myself a haunted house.

” I close the door and stride over to the kitchen, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Nope, I will pretend the last five minutes never happened.

“Did they—ah. Thank God. They also brought my groceries.” I find a bottle of wine in my fridge, and after opening five drawers, a corkscrew as well. “God, I need a drink.”

“And I’m right there with you.” Lauren nods and opens the cupboards to find wine glasses. Then she grows impatient and grabs the first thing she finds, which are mugs with little cartoon crocodiles on them. “It’s a small housewarming party.”

“Nobody I’d rather have it with.” I fill them up, then I clink my mug against hers and take a sip, grimacing when it hits my tongue. “God, that is awful.”

“Still not a wine girlie?”

“Apparently not.” I take another sip, much to Lauren’s amusement when my face stretches into a grimace yet again. “Nope.”

“You have lemonade in your fridge. Just mix it.” She takes a sip of her glass, humming happily when she tastes it.

“Good idea.” I jump off the bar stool at my kitchen island and open my way too big fridge. If doomsday ever comes—as long as I have power—this baby will feed me for months once filled. Holy hell. “Don’t tell anyone from France, though. They’ll have my head.”

“Nah, I think they banned guillotines a while back.”

I giggle as I grab the lemonade from the fridge door.

“Also, the wine is from Italy. You’re good.”

“Thank God,” I chuckle and fill up my mug to the brim, then take a sip. “Yeah, that’s better. ”

“Well, here’s to a new start, pretty men, and a peaceful life.” She lifts her cup again.

“Yeah. To that.” The two cups make a deep sound as they clink against each other.

The two of us keep sipping while enjoying the silence, looking outside where the sun disappears behind the mountain tops on the other side of the lake.

Gentle waves flicker in the orange sunlight and trees sway in the soft wind.

“Where did summer go?” Lauren asks suddenly and sets hers down.

“Fitting though, isn’t it? New season, a new beginning …”

“Right.”

We shoot each other smiles, then startle again when we hear a scratching at the door.

“Nic, I hate to say it, but you might—”

“Yup. Guess I’ve got a haunted house.”

“So cool. I’m sleeping over.” She reaches for the wine and pours herself some more. “If you don’t mind.”

“You are always welcome to my haunted guestroom.”

“Speaking of ghosts. We should find a spot for your little, short-lived friend while there’s still light.”

“I guess we should.” My eyes dart over the grass reaching from my home down to the lake. “Let’s go.”