Chapter 8 #2
“Well, we could call it a date, and it would help solidify the story of why I’m in town as your boyfriend.
” He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.
“Unless you’d rather be scrubbing charcoaled pans while I check it out all alone, where I could be accosted by a dozen old ladies wanting the scoop on Evie Hawthorne’s new boyfriend and why you aren’t there with me. ”
I didn’t think his catlike grin could get any wider.
“I have too much going on around here to spend the afternoon frolicking in the pumpkin patch.” I turn my back, unable to bear the way he looks at me any longer.
Who am I kidding? Even I can’t resist his charm, but after his help fixing half the leaking pipes in the building, I realized I’m in over my head running this place.
I don’t have time for dalliances. Even with sexy jaguar shifters who make my insides melt with just one look when we haven’t even kissed.
Not to mention, with his suave professor look and rich Irish accent, I’m surprised half the town isn’t jumping his bones.
Let the old hens gossip. Liam will be leaving in a week or sooner once he catches the thief.
“Just one little afternoon. I’ll even buy you a new pumpkin and have you home before midnight.”
Molly chooses this moment to burst into the kitchen through the wall.
“You cannot turn him down! Oh honey, do you see the way he’s looking at you?” Molly practically swoons as she gives Liam a once-over, fanning herself. “I swear I’m sweating like a sinner in church.”
“Again, I do not have time to go to the pumpkin patch. Were you spying on us this whole time?”
“Evie, not only is this your chance to spend some time with your new boyfriend, but you need a fresh pumpkin to remake your disaster.”
“She has a point. You need a new pumpkin, and I have questions for you.”
“What do you want to know? You can ask me here.”
“Well, it’s about your family wand.”
“Wait, he can see me?!” Molly squeals and twirls, her hooped skirt swinging around her like a wild tornado. “No one has been able to see me in decades except Evie. Oh, this is perfect. It’s fated!”
A flicker of emotion crosses Liam’s face, but it’s gone faster than I can process.
“Yes, we’ve established Liam can see some ghosts. Apparently, it’s a jaguar ghost-cat skill. Now, if both of you can leave me alone, I have a list a mile long to complete—”
“But Evie, it’s the Pumpkin Festival,” Molly whines.
“Which is why, more than ever, I don’t need to be wasting more time. I’ll just grab a can of puree from the store.” I finish the last of the dishes and stack it neatly beside the others on the drying rack before turning to face Liam.
“Use store-bought pumpkin puree for the contest? That’s blasphemy! Your thrice-great-grandmother will be rolling in her grave.”
“They didn’t sell store-bought pumpkin puree when she was alive.”
“It would be a shame not to put your best foot forward,” Henry remarks as he glides through the wall, a ghostly glass of amber liquid in his hand, and settles on the stovetop. “It might even push me over the edge, and I’ll have to—”
“Okay, fine. You’re all incorrigible.”
A half hour later, we pull into the packed lot of the pumpkin patch at the edge of town. Liam rounds the side of the car and offers me a hand before I can even get my seat belt unbuckled. I stand, but the gravel slides under my flats, and I careen straight into his chest.
His warm, thick angora sweater smells of old books, coffee, and sandalwood. The same scent I woke up to and haven’t been able to clear from my thoughts.
I would’ve fallen flat on my face if it weren’t for him standing there, ready to catch me, and I have to admit, even to myself, that his warm hands braced on my shoulders feel good. It only makes my imagination run wild with how good they would feel elsewhere.
“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to fall into your arms.” I right myself and brush down my skirt, heat flaring from my cheeks to the tips of my ears.
“Maybe I like it when you’re in my arms.”
“Evie Hawthorne, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Mr. Whitetanks’s deep voice calls out, saving me from coming up with a reply to Liam.
“Mr. Whitetanks, it’s so good to see you.” I give the old man a warm hug and step back.
“I thought I told you to call me Kevin.” He tips his head. “And this must be your handsome stranger everybody in town is talking about.”
“Mr. Whi—Kevin, this is Liam, and don’t tell me you listen to those old biddies’ gossip. They cluck around like a cackle of hens.”
“Oh, I take it all with a grain of salt, but I was especially interested when I heard one of the young Hawthornes was part of the rumor mill. I’m glad to see it wasn’t just a rumor.
You work too hard. I remember visiting your family’s bed-and-breakfast from the time I moved to Pumpkin Hollow as a young boy.
We stayed there once, you know, while we were hunting for a house.
Your grandparents were some of the kindest folks I’d ever met.
And I knew from day one that if anybody in town was anything like them, we had moved to the right place. ”
He leans against a tall wooden post separating the parking lot from the pumpkin field, and a green vine slowly creeps its way up, curling around the wood toward him.
“There are few and far between settlements for those of us gifted. I don’t get why you young ones, like your sister, decide to go off and travel the world, test wider waters, but I suppose some of you have to learn the hard way.”
A pang of jealousy curls in the pit of my stomach as I think about the adventures my sister is having, traveling and going to college out of state, while I’m here trying to piece together a building that, some days, I wonder whether it wants to hold itself together or fall apart at the foundation.
“Enough of my droning on. You young ones came here on a mission. You have free rein of the pumpkin field. Take whichever one you like, and the pumpkin is on me. Don’t you worry about paying for it, either of you.
I just want a taste of whatever delicious thing you plan on baking for the festival this weekend. ”
And with that, he turns and waddles off, leaning heavily on his cane and whistling some tune I can’t quite discern under his breath.