Page 7 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice (Wayward Hollow #1)

Henry

The bell above the entrance door to Caleb's Café rings and his eyes dart to me as soon as I enter.

“So you met the new guys?” Caleb asks me gruffly, a coffee machine behind him announcing a finished espresso.

“Damn.” I chuckle and walk right past him. “Word travels fast. Can’t a guy sit down for his after-work coffee first?” I ask over my shoulder as I slide into my usual booth, beckoning my dog along. “Come on, Jensen Ackles.”

“I still can’t believe your dog is named after an actor.”

“Look at him. The resemblance is uncanny.” Caleb rolls his eyes at me, but I shrug it off.

I first saw a video of him online a few months ago, so thin he could barely stand up and fur riddled with ticks.

One whimper and I knew instantly that brown husky with the sad eyes was my soul dog.

When I finally got to meet him, it was love at first sight.

He already had this name then, thanks to his foster mom being a huge fan of the actor.

I tried to get him to respond to Loki, but he wouldn’t have it, and there were far more pressing matters, such as getting him to a proper weight. So, Jensen Ackles it is, and now he might be the most spoiled dog in the county.

I truly think adopting him was my destiny.

From being raised by parents who were famous for taking in strays, saving even the most hopeless cases, to becoming a vet and carrying on their legacy by saving animals like Jensen.

Those who have been discarded, left to die by the people who were supposed to love and care for them.

Those who experience the kind of cruelty only humans can show.

They say dogs resemble their owners, and I can’t deny that with Jensen.

But Caleb? If he were a dog, he’d be a German shepherd.

He always sports a grim expression, and he is constantly alert and in tune with all his senses.

If something is off, he’ll know it before anyone else and be ready to step in.

Yet, I’m sure that somewhere behind those sharp cheekbones and lady-killer scruff, there’s a giant golden retriever hidden in him.

“Better than naming him after me,” I retort, shooting him a pointed glare, considering I’m sitting in a café called Caleb’s. “Henry Mason the Second doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it?”

“Touché.” He sits down with a sigh, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and watches me with that unnerving, emotionless stare of his.

“So?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. I can’t believe he’s nosy. Mr. I don’t give a fuck about gossip is curious about the town’s newbies.

“She’s pretty,” I mumble, averting my gaze as heat crawls into my cheeks.

“Pretty” is almost understated—she was fucking stunning. Even with mascara smudged on her cheeks, messy hair, and her nervous ranting. “I’m sure you’ll see her around soon.”

“That’s all you’ve got?” he asks, lifting his eyebrow slightly, and I shake my head.

“Really? You’re prying for information without even giving me coffee first? What lousy service in this establishment.”

“You know I’m closed already.” He shoots me a glare that comes from the depths of his soul .

“Don’t try to kill me with a look. Jensen Ackles will avenge me.”

“Nope, Jensen loves me.” Caleb leans down, adjusting his cap to keep it from falling off. And, of course, my dog immediately perks up when Caleb begins to pet him and licks his hand. “Who’s a good boy?”

“Traitor,” I whisper, making Caleb’s eyes soften. “Don’t get cocky. Jensen loves everyone. Now, get your hands off my dog and get me a coffee.” He shoots me another sharp glare until I add, “Please.”

Only minutes later, he’s back with my signature cappuccino decorated with a white middle finger on the foam and a biscuit on the side.

“Thank you,” I say pointedly, and pop the biscuit into my mouth.

“So?” He lifts his eyebrow expectantly, and I sigh, motioning for him to sit down again.

“Okay. But you need to keep this on the down low.” He lifts his eyebrow, unimpressed.

Caleb is not one to gossip. He’s not even one to listen to gossip, even though he’s right at the center of it.

Whatever happens in Wayward Hollow, it will be talked about right here, within these four exposed brick walls.

Like when the first person moved into the lakeside mansions. Kieran. All tattoos and the dark, brooding type, but only on the outside from what I’ve heard. I haven’t met him beyond a quick introduction a few weeks ago.

Nobody knows where he came from or what exactly he does, but, boy, there sure is a lot of speculation.

I remember precisely how Courtney, the owner of the flower shop two houses down, sat right by the window and all but shouted her theory into her phone as she told her sister.

She lives overseas and judging by how loudly Courtney likes to talk during their calls, I think she’s trying to eliminate her phone as the conversation-middleman .

She thinks Kieran is a mobster hiding from law enforcement. Since he is tall, muscular, has dark hair, tattoos, and is giving a bad boy vibe, that was her best guess.

God, I love this small town and its nosy people.

“She rushed into the clinic earlier,” I tell Caleb, after scanning the room to ensure we’re alone.

I enjoy our town gossip as much as the next person, but losing a pet is not something that should make the rounds.

“Had a cat with her, which, sadly, was a hopeless case. The poor thing got hit by a car—” I take a sharp breath and gulp, wrapping my tense fingers around my mug.

It never gets easier to lose an animal. “There was nothing I could do but end the pain for her.”

“I’m sorry, man.” The slightest hint of worry washes over his face, and I quickly shake my head.

“It was the kind thing to do.” I clear my throat. “Anyway, that’s the extent of our meeting. “But if you’re curious, she’s coming to the clinic tomorrow. You can catch a glimpse then.”

He tilts his head, eyeing me like I’m crazy. Then suddenly, his expression softens.

“Maybe I will.”

“Did I miss the notice for a town meeting?” Kieran suddenly appears beside us, startling me when he suddenly speaks. Even Caleb, the unmovable giant of Wayward Hollow, flinches.

I’m waiting for Wayward Hollow’s newest addition to collect her furry friend.

But Jensen kept whining at the door to be let out, so I decided to enjoy the sun for a while in front of my clinic.

Caleb joined us quickly once he saw me sitting outside.

I can’t believe even the town’s anti-gossiper is curious about our new town members, even if he’s hiding it behind a nonchalant expression.

“Holy shit, newbie, you scared the shit out of me.” I clutch my chest and shake my head at Kieran.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to. What are you two doing out here?”

Before we can answer, Jensen Ackles weighs in with a high-pitched awoo-woo , making Kieran smile.

“Oh, hi there, sweetie. Can I pet him?”

“Sure. Kieran, this is Jensen Ackles. Jensen, this is Kieran.” I chuckle as I introduce them while Kieran kneels on the ground, and my dog loses no time making a new friend.

“I shall call you Squirrel,” he whispers as Jensen licks his face.

“Here she comes,” I whisper to Caleb and nod toward our left where the same black car with tinted windows she arrived in yesterday pulls up.

Today was a slow day. I only had an appointment in the morning. My cousin Ethan lives two towns over and asked me to come over to check on one of his cows who was behaving strangely.

It’s incredibly rare to have someone bring in their pet without having chatted with me first, and this town doesn’t exactly brim with emergencies. Yet, you better bet when they do, shit’s going down.

Just like yesterday.

I shoot the box with the cat’s body a wistful glance where it resides on my reception desk inside. Young cats are tough, and this cat couldn’t have been older than two years.

No matter how often and to which animal it happens, their deaths always hit hard.

Kieran’s low whistle pulls me right back to reality. “Now I see why you’re waiting out here. They’re gorgeous!”

“They?” I turn my head right as the driver and passenger doors of her car open. Her blonde, wavy hair pops up from the driver’s side, and another, slightly shorter woman with lighter and longer blonde hair climbs out from the passenger side.

They’re chatting happily, and a part of me is relieved that the beautiful stranger seems to be in a way better place than yesterday.

She was so shaken up. I got worried about whether she made it home okay.

“Hi there,” she says when she stops next to our little group, sounding nervous. “I need to apologize again for yesterday. I’m sorry. Let’s try this again. I’m Nicola, but please call me Nic.”

Baffled, I take a deep breath. She’s even prettier than I remember.

Today, her sharp blue eyes aren’t smudged with makeup or red-rimmed.

She’s wearing subtle makeup, the kind that makes her seem to glows from within.

She has a faint blush on her high cheekbones and a shimmer along her narrow nose, making her look as if the sun shines on her, even indoors.

Her lips have the slightest tint, as though she’s been biting them—and I can’t take my eyes off them.

From the corner of my eye, I see a grin tug at Kieran’s lips and quickly refocus.

“A pleasure to meet you, Nic. I’m Henry.” I smile and nod toward the others. “And that’s Caleb. To nobody’s surprise, the owner of Caleb’s, the café two doors down.”

“That makes sense,” Nic says with a chuckle. “Good to meet the person who will feed my caffeine addiction.”

“And that’s Kieran.” I nod toward the third guy in the group. He plasters a smooth smile on his face before he gets up, my dog jumping up his side to get more attention.

“And this is Lauren, my best friend.”