Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

The way Harlow made me feel . . . I was already in deep trouble. It was like I’d spent my whole life staring at the moon and she’d walked in with all of her sunshine. Now I was constantly seeking out her warmth, constantly turning toward the sun.

Even now, in the late afternoon with a few short hours of day left, I was waiting on top of an itchy cube of hay just to spend a few shiny moments with her.

The local pumpkin patch was always full of the largest and most perfectly rotund pumpkins. A coven elder cast a spell on the patch to make it abundant year-round. Even in the height of summer, tourists could come pumpkin picking.

Around front were freshly picked pumpkins for those who didn’t want to forage for their own in the field. Throughout the patch stood stacked hay bales and scarecrows—perfect spots for snapping a photo for social media along with signs clearly displaying Maple Hollow’s social media handles. A giant apple-shaped kiosk sold spiced cider and candied apples from the haunted orchard. Beside it sat a long table of serrated knives, cookie cutters, and paint for making the perfect jack-o’-lantern.

At the entry gate was Juniper. She didn’t exactly look like the outgoing, customer service-savvy pumpkin patch entrepreneur she was. With pallid gray skin, spider webbing circles around her eyes, and slimy green seaweed woven through her hair, Juniper looked like every other swamp monster, but she was peppier than a hopped-up Easter Bunny, and the tourists loved her, no matter that she smelled like a bog. Juniper had been more than a little surprised when I’d shown up here.

I looked all around me and started wondering if this was corny. Locals didn’t usually go on dates here. This was more of a tourist hotspot . . . but Harlow was new in town, and everyone should go pumpkin picking at least once in their lifetime. Plus, we were upholding the ruse of finding the perfect window-sized ones for Witch’s Brew Café. Maybe we could find some squashes and gourds too and go for a walk along the dark forest to collect some leaves to decorate the windowsills. I bet she’d love that.

By the moon, Harlow was already ten minutes late. A knot of nerves formed in my stomach. “When she arrives, you’re leaving, right?”

“That’s what we agreed.” Lou walked straight through the hay bale and toed a pumpkin with her loafer. “Do you think she got spooked by Ramona? Do you think she’s going to stand you up?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you seem nervous. It’s cute.”

“Maybe I’m nervous because you’re lurking.”

“I’m a ghost. We lurk.” Lou snorted. “Speak of the devil.”

I looked up to see Harlow walking through the front gate. Her short hair was covered by a rust-red beanie, which complemented her red flannel button-down. She wore her usual ripped jeans and combat boots and looked ridiculously adorable with her shoulders bunched up around her ears and whorls of steam circling her head.

“Sorry. Sorry.” This seemed to be her trademark greeting. “I had to give some tourists directions,” she explained after she’d crossed the distance to me. “The B&B is that way, right?” She pointed in the opposite direction of the B&B, and Lou snickered.

“Yep,” I said because I didn’t want to crush her spirits. I rose from the squat hay bale and bridged the last stretch between us. “Hi.”

Her rosy cheeks lifted. “Hi.”

We leaned in simultaneously, and I brushed a light kiss across her lips. It was so soft and gentle, making my whole body tingle. I wanted to pull her into the darkest corner of the pumpkin patch and melt into her touch, but I held myself together.

I glanced behind me and realized Lou was still there, watching me with a smug expression.

“So, pumpkins,” I offered. “Uh, the midsized ones are over there. Why don’t you get started and I’ll go grab us some shears in case we want to cut our own?”

“Oh, okay.” She narrowed her eyes at me for a second as I offered her a sheepish smile, but she gratefully wandered off.

“You seriously need to give me some space, Lou,” I growled under my breath as I marched to the table. “I’m going to scare her away if I keep acting like this. You—” I turned around and realized Lou was gone. Of course she chose to disappear on me mid-tirade. “Asshole.” I realized I was too close to a family who were carving pumpkins and I grimaced. “Sorry.”

Juniper patted one of the kids on the shoulder and said, “I’ll be right back.” Then she wandered over to me with a wide smile. “Well, look what the crows brought in.” She gave me a once-over. “You’re a bit dressed up for the scarecrows, aren’t you?”

I looked down at my outfit. I’d put more effort into my appearance than normal, but was it too much for an outdoor date?

“Thanks,” I answered. “I guess.”

“You got my gift basket?”

I offered her a smile. “Yes, thank you.”

Juniper was well-meaning if not somewhat misguided in her attempts to maintain our friendship with gift baskets. We were already friends; I didn’t need gifts. But ever since Lou had died, Juniper had insisted on bringing me gifts and looking out for me more than anyone else in town.

“So what brings you here? I don’t think you’ve come down to this pumpkin patch of your own volition since our second-grade field trip,” she said with a chuckle.

The wind shifted direction, and I got a big whiff of Juniper’s signature perfume. She had it made specifically to enhance the green aroma and mask the algae that collected in her stringy hair. But there was some other note underneath that I couldn’t quite place.

“Harlow’s never been here before,” I said, tipping my head toward the red beanie in the distance.