Page 34 of The Cinnamon Spice Inn (Maple Falls #1)

TWENTY-SEVEN

MADISON

Madison had never been more furious in her life.

Well. That was probably an exaggeration. But Zachariah James Whitaker was doing his best to climb the ranks of men she wanted to strangle.

Two days ago, he hadn’t just touched her. No, he had destroyed her. They’d been seconds away from having hot animal sex in the pantry.

And then he’d just walked away. Like it was nothing, like she was nothing.

Now, he had the nerve to act like everything was normal.

Madison caught sight of him through the front window, loading a few last pieces of lumber from his truck. His body was relaxed, his movements easy and under control. Clearly, she wasn’t even on his radar. The nerve of him.

Madison practically growled as she yanked the final bundle of autumn garlands from the storage bin. She would not let him ruin this day.

She hadn’t come back to Maple Falls for him. She had more important things to focus on. Her family. The inn. So if Zach wanted to act like their kiss never happened?

Fine. Two could play that game. She stomped toward the front porch, where a delivery truck was backing in with a fresh shipment of pumpkins, hay bales, and cornstalks—her grand vision for a fall harvest display that would make her mother proud.

Gram was already waiting by the curb, supervising with all the authority of an army general.

“Oh, good, Maddie,” Gram said, glancing up as Madison approached. “I was just about to send someone to find you. We need all this set up before sundown.”

Madison looked at the size of the delivery truck. It was going to be a lot, but she could handle it. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

“Good.” Gram nodded approvingly. “Are there any extra fall leaves upstairs? We’ve got our craft circle at Dolores’s next week. I need a few.”

Madison thought back to the totes upstairs. “There’s probably enough.”

“Could use an extra pair of hands there, too. Or at least some fresh eyes on the glitter choices.”

Madison grinned. “I’ll think about it.”

“Thinking about it means you’re already halfway there,” Gram replied with a wink. Then, like the devil himself had sent her, Gram waved Zach over.

Madison froze. “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.

“Zach, sweetheart,” Gram called, smiling sweetly as he wiped his hands on his jeans and made his way over. “Be a dear and help Maddie with this, will you?”

Zach’s expression didn’t change, but Madison saw the tension in his shoulders.

“Gram, I can do it,” Madison said quickly.

“Nonsense.” Gram waved her off. “Zach’s got those strong arms, and you’ve got…” She trailed off, eyeing Madison up and down before sighing. “Enthusiasm.”

Zach smirked. The first real flicker of amusement she’d seen from him all day.

It infuriated her. She didn’t care how strong his arms looked hefting hay bales like they weighed nothing.

She didn’t care how the sleeves of his worn flannel shirt clung to his biceps in all the right places.

She definitely didn’t care how the low afternoon sun caught the lighter strands in his hair.

“Fine,” Madison bit out, hefting a half-bale of hay into her arms. “Let’s get this over with.”

Madison went a little overboard decorating the front porch.

She attached bunches of cornstalks to each and every white column, stacked over two dozen pumpkins along the front steps, arranged the front planter boxes full of sunflowers and chrysanthemums, and added hay bales as extra seating along the way.

Lifting pumpkins and hay bales should not have been intimate work. And yet somehow, it was.

Maybe it was because every time Madison turned around, Zach was right there.

Maybe it was because the first time their hands brushed over the same pumpkin, a jolt of electricity shot up her arm so fast she nearly dropped it. Maybe it was because he was avoiding her eyes so much that she wanted to grab his stupid, handsome face and force him to look at her.

But mostly, it was because every time she took a step, he seemed to be in her way.

She was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.

Madison spun around, a half-bale in her arms—only to slam straight into a solid wall of muscle.

Zach caught her shoulders on instinct, his fingers warm and firm—but he let go too quickly, like touching her burned him.

“Jesus, Mads,” he muttered, stepping back.

“Oh, excuse me, am I in your way?” Madison snapped, eyes flashing. “Because I don’t recall you being the one carrying half a bale of hay?—”

“I told you, I’m helping,” Zach said, gruff, avoiding her gaze. “That’s what I do.”

Oh, that does it.

Madison dropped the hay bale, planting her hands on her hips. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Zach snapped.

“Bullshit,” she shot back.

His jaw ticked. “I’m just trying to be professional.”

Oh, hell no.

Before Madison could verbally cut into him, Gram showed up.

“I’ve been thinking about that letter you got,” Gram said.

What?! Where did that come from and why now? Madison stiffened. She hadn’t planned on mentioning a word of it to Zach.

Zach, standing beside her, frowned. “Letter?”

Gram just kept right on going. “Oh, haven’t you heard?” she said, her tone far too casual. “Madison got a mysterious letter saying the inn was in trouble. Asked her to come home.”

Honestly, what with all her work on the inn, Madison still hadn’t had much time to think about the writer’s identity.

Zach straightened, turning to her fully now, his expression sharpening.

“You got a letter?”

Madison cleared her throat. “Fine. Just before I got here, someone sent me a letter. No signature. No return address. It just said that the inn was in trouble—and that I needed to come home.”

Zach’s frown deepened. She could practically see his brain kicking in, trying to solve it. That was Zach. He solved problems. It’s what he did. It was one of the things they had in common, their love of solving things.

But the way they went about it was completely opposite.

Zach was calm, calculated. He took his time to figure things out.

Like when they were younger and did summer scavenger hunts down at the library.

Zach would take time to analyze the clues and look for the hidden meanings, while Madison took off, guns blazing.

They made a good team really, but she didn’t want his help with this. It was personal, and anyway, he clearly didn’t want anything to do with her. He’d made that abundantly clear.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked.

“Say something? To you?” She laughed without humor.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’ve been a little busy?

” She gestured around them, where deliveries were still being unpacked, flowers waiting to be potted, and pumpkins placed just so.

“And, you know, maybe because every time I turn around, you’re pretending like I don’t exist? ”

Gram suddenly became very interested in adjusting the pumpkin display on the steps.

Zach’s jaw tightened. Madison swore he was going to say something just as biting, but then he said, “And you have no idea who sent it?”

“Nope,” Madison said. She didn’t mean to pop the P, but she couldn’t help it when she was around him. She felt explosive. “But I do know one thing: It worked. I’m here.” She held her hands out at her sides, palms out.

The truth was, Madison hated not knowing.

She hated that someone had reached across time and distance, poked right into the softest, most protected part of her heart, and dragged her back here without even signing their name.

Gram clapped her hands, jolting Madison out of her spiraling thoughts.

“As I was saying,” Gram chirped, “I was thinking about that letter, and I realized I know someone who might help. Anita. Everyone talks at the café. I figure if anyone’s heard anything, it’d be her.”

Zach spoke up. “Yeah. In fact… she got a letter too.”

“What?” Madison’s head whipped toward him.

“It was about the inn as well,” Zach said, casual as anything—like it wasn’t the biggest bombshell of the day.

“She did?” Madison looked between Zach and Gram.

Gram shrugged her shoulders.

“What did it say?” Madison pressed.

“I have no idea. I didn’t actually see it.

Mom just told me about it. She asked if I would come help out at the inn, just after the tree fell down in the storm.

It wasn’t a hard sell, since I already planned on it.

But we knew George wouldn’t accept charity, which is why I agreed to fix up the cabin in exchange for a place to stay.

Anyway, I guess it’s possible she knows more about who might have sent it. ”

So, Zach hadn’t been staying on the property just to torment her. He’d been doing something kind.

But who had started this? Who had written those letters? They weren’t just pulling strings. They were pulling at the very heart of what, and who, Madison cared about most.

“Well, I know where you two kids are headed off to.” Gram clapped her hands together, effectively sealing their fate. “Do you want me to call Anita and tell her you’re on your way?”

Zach glanced at his watch. “The lunch rush should be over. She should have a minute.”

Madison hesitated, glancing at the crates of pumpkins and decorations still waiting to be sorted. She hated leaving Gram with all of it, hated feeling like she was letting anyone down.

But this mattered too. She had to find out what was going on, she just had to.

“Go on, get out of here. I’ll get started on this and give Hank a call, see if he can lend me a hand.”

Zach took a step closer, so close she could catch a hint of soap and sawdust clinging to his skin. “Come on,” he said, his voice low, his eyes catching hers, and holding. “Let’s go.”

His fingers brushed lightly against her back as he guided her toward the steps. It was barely a touch, but it lit up her skin like a live wire.

Madison knew she should pull away. Tell him she didn’t need his help. Not when she still tasted him in every breath she took.

But instead, she followed after him. Almost as hungry for the truth as she was for his touch.