Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

“At least let a few people try them before you eat the rest.” Wyatt laughed. “Careful with transferring them into the cabinet. The assembly of broomstick to bristles is a little precarious.”

I gave a nod. “Got it.”

“And let me know how they go. If they’re a hit, I’ll make some more and maybe some other witchy treats.”

The door to the upstairs opened, and Willow walked out in her work uniform of jeans, T-shirt, and apron. She looked like she’d struggled to pull herself together—dark purple bags under her eyes, her gaze a little glassed over, her shoulders slumped, and her movements slow.

“You just couldn’t help yourself,” I said with a huff.

“Hey.” Wyatt swept in and placed a tentative hand on her forearm, steadying her as if she might topple over. “Why don’t you go back to bed? Harlow can manage today.”

“No,” Willow grumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I’m fine. I just need a cup of coffee . . . or twelve.” She paused at the countertop, her bloodshot eyes narrowing at the selection in the pastry box. “What are those?”

She pointed to the macaron cookies. Great. Even half-comatose, she still noticed the one tiny discrepancy in the order.

“I thought we could try something new for the food cabinet,” I offered tentatively.

“You planned a new order? With Wyatt? Without me?”

I held up my hands in placation. “I just thought it would be fun to try something new.”

“Fun?” Her voice rose. “Something new like when you added nutmeg to Agnes’s coffee and almost killed her? That kind of fun?”

“I can take them away,” Wyatt offered, but he went silent when Willow’s gaze landed on him.

She turned her wrath back to me. “I had a carefully planned order. One that gives every patron an option while satisfying any allergies or dietary requirements. One that doesn’t make the cabinet cluttered. One that sells.” She placed a splayed hand on her chest. “I do what I do because it works. You changing things for fun has already lost me customers.”

Heat rose in my cheeks, and tears pricked my eyes. The pride I’d felt a moment ago turned into shame at my sister’s anger.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I will do it exactly as you do. Really. You can go back to bed.”

Willow scoffed. “I don’t think so. I’m clearly needed down here.” She barely glanced at Wyatt when she said, “You can go now.”

“Willow.” He reached for her, but she pulled away.

I made myself scarce, grabbing the broom and sweeping around the doorway, but I could hear Willow say, “You planned all this with my sister, without talking to me, even though you know how I don’t like change? Even though you and I always talk through the menu together?”

“They’re just cookies,” Wyatt begged, and I thought he might drop to his knees at any second.

There was betrayal and hurt in my sister’s eyes. “You of all people know how important this is to me.” I swore I heard her voice wobble. “Tomorrow morning, leave the order at the back door.”

“Willow.” Wyatt said her name like he was pleading for mercy. “Please.”

“Goodbye, Wyatt,” she said and stormed off into the kitchen.

22

HARLOW

Iswung my boots over the surface of the water, little bioluminescent lights seeming to track each movement. This place was like something out of a fairy tale. I wondered if a mermaid or a Jamaican crab would pop up from the water at any second.

Willow had warned me not to venture through the haunted forest, but I couldn’t really see why. It was a little spooky at first, but I’d found a well-traveled trail that led to the docks and a massive lake that seemed to stretch in every direction.

I’d managed to hold it together for the rest of my shift, fighting back tears until after closing, but once all of my jobs had been finished, I’d thrown a noncommittal “I’m going out” over my shoulder and left.

Willow hadn’t stopped me.

Things between Willow and me were frigid at best—worse than when I’d poisoned Agnes or accidentally conjured that plague of mice.