Page 9 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice (Wayward Hollow #1)

Henry

“On a scale of one to ten, how fun was your trip to Jacob’s yesterday?”

“However ‘fun’ you’d scale shoving your whole arm into a cow’s behind,” I tell Caleb. I take a hearty sip of my coffee he set on the counter. Meanwhile Kieran, who’s in the seat next to me, grimaces and proceeds to make retching sounds. “Very mature.”

He turns to me with an apologetic grin. “Sorry, had that picture pop up in my head, and it straight-up stimulated my gag reflex.”

I subtly lean my chin onto my hand and raise my middle finger at him.

“Don’t be crass,” he scolds me, and I shake my head at him.

Grabbing my coffee and the sandwich that Caleb slides over the counter to me, I carry them to my usual table. Jensen Ackles follows me diligently, with his eyes firmly on my food.

No matter how crowded Caleb’s café gets, nobody ever sits here for some reason.

Maybe this table has a haunted vibe that I’m oblivious to.

But it’s the perfect table. It has a clear view of the town center through the big front window.

From here, I can see the whole café, with its brick walls, black metal accents, warm wood, and moody lighting, which definitely fits Caleb’s equally moody demeanor.

I can also stay mostly hidden behind a giant plant with leaves big enough to double as umbrellas.

I can pop in headphones and be left alone or eavesdrop.

Anything going on in this city? There’s no hiding it from this table.

Caleb might have unofficially called this one the “stalker table” for exactly this reason, but it actually became my usual table because it’s always empty. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

“Dang, it’s full here.” I hear a familiar light and melodic voice from the entrance, and I can’t help myself.

I stretch my neck to peek past the plant and catch a glimpse of Nic, watching her without being noticed.

Her wavy blonde hair is loosely swept up into a claw clip, with soft strands spilling out in effortless waves.

They surround her face like the prettiest golden frame of a picture I can’t take my eyes off.

Caleb shoots me a look that says get a grip , and I shrug with a sheepish grin.

There’s something about her that has me in a chokehold.

She came into my practice with a fire, every pore of her ready to fight to keep that cat alive. Ever since she shoved that little cat into my arms and pleaded with me to save her, she’s been on my mind.

That tinge of sadness in her eyes that appears to be a permanent resident, the way she absentmindedly curls a strand of her hair around her finger when she’s thinking.

She’s a mystery I want to solve. I want to know how to make that sadness in her eyes disappear. What her soft hair feels like when I run my fingers through it, how her lips would fit against mine, and …

“Earth to Henry?” Caleb suddenly asks next to me, and I glance up at him. Even Jensen gives me a confused look.

“What? ”

“Would you mind sharing your table?” He nods to Nic and Lauren, who glance around the café cluelessly, trying to gauge who might get up soon and free up their table.

The bad news is nobody will. It’s the middle of the daily afternoon rush, which means everyone and their mother and grandma are in here, checking the special afternoon snack of the day.

Today, it’s cinnamon rolls with walnut pieces—since I’m Caleb’s taste tester for pastries, I already know they’re divine.

I also know that one of them is reserved for me, waiting somewhere behind that counter.

“Yeah, of course,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but judging by the amused look he shoots me, I’m failing spectacularly.

“Great. Then you’re getting company. Over here!” He waves the two of them over, and before I know it, they scoot into the seats opposite me.

“Anyway, it wasn’t a one-off. I’m about 92 percent sure my house is haunted,” Nic continues their conversation as she scoots into the booth. “Hi, Henry. It’s good to see you.”

“Hi, Nic. Lauren,” I greet the two of them with a polite smile. “Just an FYI, Jensen Ackles is under this table, and he will beg for food.”

“You know, I will never get tired of that name,” Lauren says with a giggle, then leans down to peek under the table. “Such a handsome boy!”

Jensen gets up from between my feet and trots over to her for some well-deserved pets. Meanwhile, I turn to Nic, only now realizing what she just told her friend.

“Wait. Your house is what now?” I ask before taking a sip of my cappuccino.

“Haunted,” she declares with a sigh and a convinced nod. “And I’m pretty sure it’s by the ghost of a maybe disgruntled, maybe attention-seeking cat. ”

I almost spit out my coffee, though I’m not sure if it’s out of surprise or amusement.

“Wasn’t it newly built? How can there be a ghost?”

“That’s what makes it even worse,” she groans and hides her face in her hands.

“I mean, a two-hundred-year-old haunted Victorian mansion with cobwebs and creaking floor—sure, I’d expect that.

I’d probably buy a velvet robe, get myself a fancy candle holder, and embrace the gothic lifestyle.

” She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “I’d spend my evenings reciting Edgar Allan Poe in the hallways and ask a skull whether to be or not to be.

But the paint is barely dry on this house, and here I am, dealing with a ghost cat scratching my doors and pushing glasses off my kitchen counter. ”

“So, ghost kitty is, like, the official paranormal diagnosis?” Lauren asks with a chuckle, then nods at my dog. “We should call the Winchester brothers.”

“I bet it’s Chaos,” Nic says with a deep sigh as she contemplatively gazes out of the window. “Come to think of it”—she turns to me and narrows her eyes—“shouldn’t she technically be your ghost then, too?”

“Hate to disappoint you, but the only scary sounds in my home are this one’s farts,” I say with a chuckle and point to where I assume my dog is under the table. As if he understood me, he suddenly appears by my leg and pulls a face that resembles a smile.

“Yes, you are,” I coo, brushing my hand over his head. “Such a scary creature.”

“Please,” Caleb scoffs, appearing at the table out of nowhere. “I’ve seen bread that was scarier than your dog. How are you two doing? Are you settling in okay?”

“ You are scarier than my dog,” I scoff back and grin at Jensen, who agrees with a soft whine. From the corner of my eye, I see Nic rummaging in her bag, then pulling out her phone. She glances at it for a moment before swiping and making it disappear in her bag again.

“Henry and Nic are ghost parents. That’s how we’re doing.” Lauren snickers and looks up at Caleb. “Can I get a pumpkin spice latte, please?”

“None of that sugar shit here. I have coffee and milk, and I can get you any combination of those.”

“Then a regular latte macchiato, please,” Lauren says, her lips pursed into a pout. Nic quickly adds, “Make it two, please.”

“Coming right up—wait, what? Ghost parents?”

“That took a while,” I tease him and duck when he lowers his notepad, without a doubt to slap it against the back of my head. What can I say? Gentle head slaps are a sign of love in this café.

“Nic thinks her house is haunted.”

“I not only ‘think’, I know .” She crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares at Lauren. “There are no cracks in my doors, and there is no way any wind is getting into my house. Yet I keep hearing those scratching noises. Lauren was there; she heard it too!”

When I glance at Lauren, I’m surprised to see her nod.

“At first, I thought it was probably a mouse. Or any other tiny, normal, non-paranormal creature. But then I realized no normal mouse would follow me from room to room . Every room I go into, scratch, scratch, scratch —she’s there.

It’s like she’s stalking me! Or judging me?

I don’t know. The scratching surely sounds judgmental. ”

“You’ve got issues,” Lauren says lovingly, fighting a grin. “No cat would judge you, and ghosts don’t exist.”

“Oh, really?” She turns in her seat and shoots Lauren a glare.

“Then how do you explain this? Every time I try to hang something up, I swear a chill runs down my spine. Like, she disapproves of my decor choices. Last night, I put up a perfectly normal picture from some premi”—she stops herself and clears her throat, giving Lauren a meaningful look—“some event . Honest to God, nothing offensive to the feline spirit realm—and I kid you not, the whole thing slid right off the wall. No nails loose, no breeze, only straight-up cat disapproval.”

“Maybe you didn’t put it up properly?” Kieran asks from his space at the counter before he gets up and motions for me to scoot over. “Make some space. This is better than any gossip about myself I could hear from over there.”

“Oh, hi, Kieran,” Lauren and Nic say in unison. Even Caleb is curious, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his notepad with our orders still in his hand.

“I’m … oddly invested now.”

“You should be invested in our coffees,” Lauren teases him. “I wasn’t kidding about my caffeine addiction.”

“Shawna’s got it.” He looks over his shoulder at the woman who has been helping him work through the noon-rushes for years now, before leaving early in the afternoon to spend time with her grandchildren.

Her copper hair, streaked with occasional gray strands, is tied back loosely, yet it holds up surprisingly well—even though she moves between the counter and tables with the energy of a whirlwind.

She's the kind of woman who can take six orders at once, clean the counter, and make you laugh—all in the blink of an eye.

Once he catches her eye, he moves his hand to signal their order to her, in what appears to be their own secret sign language. She pulls out a pencil tucked behind her ear and quickly writes down his order.

“Okay, good.” Lauren nods happily, her fingers nervously tapping the table.

I pay the banter of Caleb and Lauren no mind, but I catch the corners of Nic’s mouth twitch as she listens in.

“I definitely put it up properly, Mr. Science over here,” Nic finally continues.

“And try to explain the clear and loud meowing right next to my ear at three o’clock in the morning.

Or the way something left an indentation in the blanket and kept my feet warm right after. Both scared the hell out of me.”

“Maybe you dreamed it?” Caleb scratches his scruff, and I tilt my head. “Sleep paralysis?”

“That would be a cute sleep paralysis demon, though.” Lauren giggles.

“Are you sure it’s not creaky house sounds and guilt about Chaos’s passing?” I wonder and sip my coffee, noting the way they wistfully stare at my mug.

“No, the place is sturdy. No creaks, no whistling. It’s sturdier than my emotional state.

” She freezes for a moment, then shakes her head.

“Which isn’t saying too much, now that I think about it.

” She takes a deep breath, and then, finally, Shawna appears with their drinks, receiving grateful smiles from the two of them.

Lauren’s eyes light up as though she may just have found her new favorite person.

Funny, Jensen does the same when I open a bag of treats.

She wasn’t kidding about her love for coffee.

“If it’s a ghost, what’s your plan?” Lauren asks, taking a sip of her coffee and releasing a deep, happy sigh. “Oh, this is good.”

“Thank you,” Caleb says gruffly, but from the corner of my eye, I can see the corner of his mouth twitch.

“Are you going to call a pastor for an exorcism? Ignore it? Draw salt circles around your house? Find a pet psychic that will show her the light?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of bribery. I ordered a bunch of treats and left some out in a little dish, you know, as a peace offering. But when I woke up, the dish was mysteriously tipped over, and the treats were all over the floor, but there were less than before. So now I’m paranoid that I’ve encouraged the ghost cat.

Maybe I’ve accidentally opened some portal to the cat afterlife, and now I’m obligated to feed her every night. ”

“You realize you’re talking about feeding an invisible, likely non-existent cat spirit?” I raise my eyebrow at her amusedly. She takes the little biscuit off the saucer and throws it my way. It bounces off my sweater, falling to the ground.

There’s no use trying to retrieve it. Jensen barely lets it land before he devours it. Thank God the biscuits Caleb uses here are, well, not exactly dog-friendly, but not poisonous.

“Oh, I realize it, all right. But you don’t get to judge my supernatural pet-care routine.

Not until you have your own cat ghost that knocks over picture frames and gives you the heebie-jeebies in the middle of the night.

Maybe she’ll be at your place tonight, Daddy.

” I grimace at that last word, making the whole table laugh.

“God, I can’t believe I’ve been here for only a few days, and this town is already making me a crazy cat lady.”

“Welcome to Wayward Hollow, I guess,” Caleb says dryly, and Kieran hides his wheezing laughter behind his hands.

Nic glances at Lauren and exhales a deep sigh. “Just what have we gotten ourselves into here?”

“Don’t worry, you get used to it,” Kieran says, chuckling at their skeptical expressions.