Chapter 8
Gwendolyn
October in North Carolina could go one of two ways.
You either have the most beautiful fall known to man full of bright colors and crisp air, or the days are so hot you wonder if you time traveled right back to summer—but specifically in the Devil’s backyard.
Lucky for us, it seemed like we were getting the former this year. Which couldn’t have come at a better time, because I would not have been happy if I had to plan the festival in eighty degree weather.
There were a few unfortunate years where the attire was more shorts and tees than sweaters. It made for some sweaty pictures. We always made the best of it as a town, but I would be damned if I didn’t give the full Harvest Festival experience to them this year.
I had taken the moment to step outside in an attempt to slow down my overactive brain this morning while I watch the clock like it was a bomb preparing to explode as soon as it hit ten.
While it might not actually explode, I might if my heated body is any indication of when the thought of Logan crosses my mind.
The cooler air was a welcomed feeling against my skin.
Why did he have to get hotter? Why did he have to be such a smooth talker? Why did he have to know the exact formula to make my mind turn to mush and my body light on fire?
The questions were spinning ever since I left him in the hallway last night.
So, when I saw a single chair slightly out of place from our windows, I announced to Piper and Stacy that I would take care of the tidying up outside.
Usually it would be a fight over who got to spend a few free moments outside in the beautiful weather, but I must have been giving off vibes because they all but pushed me out the door.
A giggled shout comes from town square. The location of The Willow Whisk gives me a perfect view from where I tidy up our outside seating. A prime location for people watching right on the corner of a side street leading onto Main.
I always loved how the stores surrounded the square, their rich colors fitting every season. Especially now as the trees lining the street turn a mix of yellows and oranges and red with the autumn weather.
I turn toward the excited voices, watching for a moment as the teacher leads her class in painting pumpkins in front of the old gazebo. They must have walked from the elementary school a street over.
“Well, isn’t that adorable?”
A deep voice has me returning my attention to the task I originally started, and I finish pushing in the chair in front of me while taking in the man sitting at the corner table.
He has a low baseball cap covering his eyes and a grin on his lips, which is momentarily covered by the coffee cup he brings to them.
The gray beard on his face giving him a silver fox look I just know Piper appreciated when he came in to order.
“They sure do look like they are having fun, don’t they?” I ask. “Maybe we should all take the day and paint pumpkins.”
He chuckles, nodding his head in agreement. “I guess I could add that to my Willow Grove itinerary while I’m here.”
I take note of his laptop half closed in front of him. “Work trip?”
He squints his eyes, thinking for a second before a smirk plays on his lips. “Something like that.”
Ominous. Okay, then. “Well, I hope you get to take some time to enjoy all that Willow Grove has to offer while you’re here for whatever it is you’re here for. How long will you be staying in town?”
I’m not expecting a lot of information out of the man, but color me curious. I want to see what he says.
“Sort of playing it by ear right now. That’s one of the joys of being able to work from wherever. The place I’m staying at says they have the room available for as long as I want and rumor has it the town hosts a festival every year that I can’t miss. Might stick around to find out for myself.”
I feel my whole body perk up at the mention of the event. “Well, the rumors are true. We still have a few weeks to go, but I can promise it’ll be one you won’t want to miss.”
Tipping his hat to me, he says, “I’ll hold ya to it. Also, you keep making a cup of coffee as good as this one,” he points toward his cup, “and I’ll never want to leave. Compliments to the owner next time you see them.”
My cheeks heat at the kudos. “Actually, you can give them to her yourself.” I put my hand between us. “Gwendolyn Prescott, owner.”
“Mitch Shepherd. Wonderful to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, Mr. Shepherd.”
With a grimace, he declines the formality. “Please, call me Mitch.” He opens his mouth to say something else when his gaze snags on something behind me. “Looks like someone is in a hurry over here.”
I look over my shoulder in time to see Logan jogging across the street, his hand up to thank the car he cut in front of for slowing down. He wears an apologetic expression on his face as he slows himself down and walks toward me.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Gwen.”
Shocked, I check the time on my watch and realize I had successfully ignored the time long enough to bypass our meeting time by fifteen minutes. I just shake my head, though, trying hard not to let my disappointment show on my face.
“It’s fine,” I wave a hand between us as if it really is no big deal. “I was making a new friend. Mitch is visiting for the foreseeable future. Willow Grove might end up with a new townsperson if we aren’t careful.” I wink at the man in front of me.
He chuckles, “What can I say? So far I’m charmed.”
Logan looks between us before sticking his hand out in front of Mitch. “Logan Spencer, welcome to our small town.”
Mitch smiles, though it seems to have an edge to it that wasn’t there previously as he shakes Logan’s hand. “Spencer? Is it a small enough town that I can assume that means you are related to the mayor?”
“Yes sir, that’s my father. Do you know him?”
Mitch shakes his head no. “Just like to know about the towns I visit, so I’ve been doing a little history lesson for myself. Quite the legacy your family has going on here.”
I watch Logan’s throat bob, his lips wobbling slightly before returning to their smile. The fake one. I wonder if anyone else can notice the difference. It seemed pretty obvious to me, but Mitch seemed none the wiser.
“You could say that, sir.” Logan places a hand on my lower back. And though I have a thick sweater on, I swear I can feel the warmth of his touch through the knitting. “Shall we start our meeting, Gwen? This festival isn’t going to plan itself.”
“Ah, the famous festival. You didn’t mention you were planning it, Gwendolyn.”
I blush at Mitch’s comment. “It’s sort of a newer development. Must have slipped my mind.”
“Well, I guess I’ve gotta stick around if my new friend is planning the whole shebang.” Mitch lifts the lid to his laptop again, nodding his head at me. “I won’t take up any more of your time. I’ve got some emails I’ve been procrastinating anyway.”
“It was great talking to you. Enjoy the beautiful day.”
Logan steers me toward the front door, his touch never leaving my back. “You picked a great time to visit,” he calls to Mitch with a wave of his free hand.
“Seems that way,” Mitch chuckles as he focuses on the screen in front of him.
I step through the open door as Logan gestures for me to go ahead.
The noise from inside felt louder than usual after enjoying the quiet outside for so long.
Piper catches my eye from the espresso machine as she pulls a shot.
Her gaze jumps from Logan walking beside me and back with raised eyebrows.
I widen my eyes to convey not right now.
Luckily, after all these years we have perfected our best friend speak through looks, because she schools her features when I walk around the counter.
Speaking over my shoulder, I say, “Can I get you anything before we start?”
“I might grab something after, I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”
Now he wants to be considerate. I hold the door open for him this time, waving him to follow me as I lead the way down the hall to my office in the back.
My heart beats a thousand miles a minute while a weird sensation comes over me.
It settles in my muscles and seeps into my bones, forcing me to straighten my spine and walk with my head high.
The sensation told me in some way that this was a life changing moment, but I was unsure if that change was good or bad as we stepped over the threshold to my office.