Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
TYLER
Now this is domestic bliss, Tyler thought as he woke up in Robyn’s bed.
Robyn was curled against him, all soft warmth and sleepy weight, her back tucked into his chest. Mr. Darcy was sleeping at their feet.
Tyler stayed perfectly still, barely breathing, as if movement might break the spell.
He leaned in just enough to catch the apricot scent of her hair and felt something inside him loosen—something that had been clenched for longer than he’d realized.
He could’ve stayed cocooned like this forever while Maple Falls woke up outside the window.
The world filtered in gently: the beeping of a delivery truck backing up somewhere below, followed by voices drifting up from the sidewalk—three people talking over each other. A dog barked once, sharp and territorial, then a car rolled past out front.
Tyler blinked, still heavy with sleep, and his gaze landed on the clock on the side table.
He stared.
Then blinked again, just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
9:17 a.m.
Tyler couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past nine o’clock. It was definitely before Emma was born. Before early morning cartoons and soccer Saturdays and the particular kind of dad-brain that woke you up at the slightest creak in the hallway.
He thought of Emma then, spending the night at a friend’s house. The birthday party. The sleepover. The way her social life had become this whole bustling little universe of its own.
She was only in second grade, but sometimes Tyler caught himself feeling like he’d blinked and she’d grown up anyway.
Maple Falls had been good for her. Good for him too, if he was being honest. Slower days. More community. Less noise in his head.
And now… this.
Tyler carefully eased his arm out from under Robyn’s pillow, the mattress indenting from his effort not to disturb her. Robyn made a soft sound—more sigh than word—and shifted closer.
His chest tightened.
He sat up quietly, propping himself against the ivory suede tufted headboard. Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, turning the room a pale gold. Robyn’s hair was a dark spill across her pillow, her glasses on the nightstand, lips parted slightly, one hand tucked under her cheek.
She looked… safe.
Tyler let himself watch her for a moment. He couldn’t stop cataloging the details, this softer version of her. The one which didn’t look like she had to solve all the world’s problems.
His phone buzzed faintly on the nightstand.
A text from Chloe’s mom: Girls are awake. Dropping Emma off at ten if that’s okay.
He glanced back at Robyn, debating whether to let her sleep. She’d been up late—he’d seen her on the couch at some point, laptop open, that determined look on her face.
But Robyn, of course, chose that moment to blink awake.
Her eyes found him almost immediately, hazy with sleep. For one second, she just stared at him. If her morning was anything like his, the memories of last night were rushing through her brain.
Her cheeks pinked. And Tyler knew the feeling.
“Hi,” she whispered.
Tyler’s grin came easy. “Morning.”
Robyn stretched, slow and catlike beneath the blankets, then groaned and pressed her face into the pillow. “What time is it?”
Tyler nodded toward the clock. “Brace yourself.”
Robyn peeked at the clock. “Oh my gosh. That’s… late.”
“We’re basically teenagers again,” he replied.
Robyn laughed quietly.
He leaned down and brushed a kiss to her temple, keeping it light. “Mrs. C. is covering the bookstore this morning, right?”
Robyn nodded, blinking as her brain caught up. “Yeah. She insisted I take the morning off to write.” Robyn made a face at that. “I don’t have to go in until three.”
“How’d it go last night?” Tyler asked, knowing she’d planned to write after he’d gone to bed.
“AfterHoursAuthor is back in business.” Robyn beamed. “But I’m feeling a bit brain-dead writing-wise at the moment.”
“Well, if that’s the case…” Tyler said, already hearing how hopeful he sounded and deciding he didn’t care. “Do you want to hang out with me and Emma today?”
Robyn propped herself up on her elbows. “What did you have in mind?”
Tyler shrugged like it was no big deal, even though his heart was thrumming. “I was thinking Winding Creek. Liam and Jackson’s family’s farm. Pumpkin patch. Hayride. Kettle corn. The full fall fun family experience.”
“Now that sounds like a perfect day,” she said, a faint smile tugging at her mouth. She hesitated briefly—like her instincts wanted to say no, that she should stay home and write, even though Tyler knew that was the last thing she wanted to do. Then she let out a breath.
“Okay,” she said. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
Tyler’s grin widened. “Yes?”
Robyn lifted up and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes.”
An hour after that, they were on the road, Tyler driving with Robyn in the passenger seat, and Emma chattering happily in the backseat like she had a built-in motor.
The morning sun was steadily climbing, streaming through the windshield and catching the auburn highlights in Robyn’s hair.
She’d dressed for the farm in jeans, ankle boots, and one of her soft orange sweaters.
A green and gold plaid scarf looped loosely at her throat.
She looked like an autumn catalog come to life, and Tyler was trying very hard to keep his eyes on the road.
“You know Levi, Dad?” Emma didn’t wait for a response. “Chloe said that he fell playing hockey and broke his wrist. Do you think we can bake him some cookies?”
“Levi from your class?” Tyler clarified.
“Uh-huh, peanut butter is his favorite, but he’d eat any cookie.”
“Yeah, we can do that.” Tyler wasn’t sure when, but they’d fit it in. Just like how he’d fixed Mrs. C.’s flat tire last week, and then Emma had baked her an apple pie to cheer her up. The importance of helping your neighbors was a lesson he wanted Emma to grow up with.
“Excellent. I told Chloe you’d probably say yes. Oh! I almost forgot, Chloe and I are going to go as witches for Halloween. I need a new hat! Can we get one today?”
Tyler looked back in his rearview mirror. “Maybe not today…”
“But Halloween’s on Friday. That’s only six days away! If we don’t go today, I might not find any hat. And what’s a witch without her hat?”
Robyn looked to Tyler. “She’s got you there.”
“Alright, alright. Maybe later, okay?” Tyler acquiesced.
“Thanks, Dad,” Emma replied.
“How was Chloe’s party?” Robyn asked.
“It was the best. We went roller skating,” Emma announced. “And they had a disco ball. And laser lights!”
Tyler glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Laser lights.”
“Yes!” Emma said. “And we ate pizza. And then we stayed up way too late watching movies.”
Robyn turned slightly, smiling over her shoulder. “How late is way too late?”
Emma hesitated, as if calculating what sounded acceptable. “Um. Midnight.”
Tyler glanced back at his daughter. “I don’t know. If you stayed up that late, maybe you’re too tired to go to the pumpkin patch.”
“What?” Emma’s voice spiked in alarm. “No! I’m not tired at all. Promise.”
Three minutes later, Emma tried to hide a yawn behind the sleeve of her coat, blinking hard like she could bully her body into cooperating.
Tyler bit back a smile. Robyn caught his eye and smiled too, and even though it had only just begun, it felt like the whole day was already going right.
In no time at all, they were cresting the hill, and Winding Creek came into view.
The pumpkin patch was a madhouse, in the best possible way.
They hadn’t even parked yet, and Tyler could hear the distant squealing of kids, the rumble of a tractor, and a cheerful country tune coming from a loudspeaker, carrying over it all.
Cars packed the gravel lot, families spilling out with kids in puffy coats and knitted hats. The farm was laid out like an autumn postcard with hay bales stacked near the entrance, hand-painted signs pointing toward Pumpkin Patch, Hayrides, and cider + donuts.
A tractor pulled a hay wagon across the field, kids squealing every time it bumped over a rut. Nearby, families tugged green metal grate wagons with the oversized wheels, already piled with pumpkins like they were treasure.
Tyler breathed in deep.
Smoke from a crackling fire drifted through the air, mingling with the scent of apples and cinnamon and damp earth. The whole place hummed with noise and laughter.
“This is incredible,” Robyn murmured beside him, sounding a little uncertain, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to enjoy it.
“It’s Winding Creek,” Tyler said. “They know how to celebrate fall.”
Emma grabbed Robyn’s hand without hesitation and started tugging her toward the hayride line like it was an emergency.
“Come on,” Emma insisted. “We have to do everything.”
Robyn looked at Tyler, eyes wide, like she wanted permission.
Tyler nodded. “Everything,” he agreed.
They wandered through the craft barn first, drawn in by warmth and twinkle lights strung along the rafters.
Tables were arranged in cozy little displays: beeswax candles in amber jars, alpaca scarves and hats folded in neat stacks, handmade wreaths with dried oranges and cinnamon sticks, embroidered dish towels that said things like Home where the o was replaced with a pumpkin, and rows of gourmet jams and honey that glowed golden under the lights.
Tyler spotted Beth—Liam and Jackson’s mom—behind one of the tables, chatting with Cassidy as she rang up a customer. Beth’s hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, cheeks rosy from the cold, and she greeted Tyler with a wide smile the moment she saw him.
“Well, look who it is,” Beth called. “Tyler Marlowe! Bringing us your favorite girl?”
Emma beamed with delight. “I’m the favorite!”
Beth laughed. Cassidy leaned over the table and winked at Emma. “Obviously.”
Tyler introduced Robyn properly, and Beth’s smile softened in that knowing, welcoming way that Maple Falls people had—like they could sense when someone needed a place to land.
“Oh, honey,” Beth said warmly. “You picked a perfect day.”
Robyn’s cheeks pinked, but she smiled. “It really is.”
They did the hayride next, Emma wedged between Tyler and Robyn on the bale of hay.
Robyn laughed every time the wagon bumped, gripping Tyler’s sleeve once when it lurched hard enough to make her slide.
When Emma pointed out a scarecrow off in the field and launched into a breathless theory about its tragic backstory, Robyn listened like it was the most important thing she’d heard all week.
They ate kettle corn warm from the bag, Emma dropping half of it and still somehow ending up with sticky fingers.
Robyn passed her a napkin and took the bag when Emma nearly dumped the rest. They tried cider donuts that disappeared in four bites.
They stood by the fire and made s’mores, Emma declaring herself a marshmallow expert, and then immediately setting hers on fire.
Robyn laughed, then helped her toast a second one, steadying the skewer while Emma tried again.
He tried not to get caught up in the effortless way Robyn and Emma interacted, but it was hard not to when he saw how relaxed Robyn was. It struck Tyler—hard and sudden—how much she’d been carrying lately—and how different she looked when she let her hair down.
When it was time to pick pumpkins, Emma marched into the patch, dragging the wagon behind her.
“This one,” she announced, pointing at a pumpkin that looked like it could bench press her.
Tyler blinked. “Emma. That pumpkin is… massive.”
“It’s my favorite,” Emma insisted.
With Emma’s chosen, Tyler picked out one that was medium-sized and satisfyingly round for himself. Robyn chose a smaller one with a slightly crooked stem.
They loaded the pumpkins into the trunk, hands cold, cheeks flushed, hearts full.
On the drive back, Emma’s eyelids started drooping, her earlier insistence that she wasn’t tired dissolving with every mile. Her head leaned against the window, breaths evening out.
Tyler kept one eye on the road and one on Robyn, who was staring at the passing trees, savoring every moment of the day.
When they pulled up near the bookstore, Emma blinked awake the moment the car stopped.
“Can you come back over?” Emma asked immediately, leaning forward between the seats to look at Robyn. Her fingers were still sticky, and there was a chocolate smudge in the corner of her mouth.
Robyn’s expression softened. “Oh, honey. I wish I could, but I have to work at the bookshop.”
“And we have a witch’s hat to go pick out,” Tyler reminded his daughter.
Emma’s face popped right back up. “Okay!” She looked back at Robyn, not willing to let the conversation go. “Maybe we’ll see you later?”
Robyn hesitated. “Maybe,” she echoed carefully. “We’ll see.”
“Tomorrow?” Emma asked, relentless.
Tyler reached back and squeezed Emma’s knee. “Robyn has work, remember?”
Emma sighed, disappointment thick in her exhale. “Fine.” Then, quieter, she added, “I just like her.”
Tyler’s throat tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “Me too.”
Robyn looked at him then and something warm flickered in her eyes.
Today had been bliss. And he wasn’t about to ruin it by pushing for more than Robyn was ready to give.
He knew she was still wrestling not to fall for this.
For him. For Maple Falls. For a life that didn’t fit the one she’d so carefully planned.
So he smiled at Emma and said, “Let’s get these pumpkins home. Then we’ll talk about tomorrow.”