Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

And maybe Jordyn was worth it.

32

JORDYN

Istocked the vials in neat rows while Iris explained the benefits of different headache elixirs to one of the town werewolves. The shop had quieted down considerably since Halloween had come and gone. No more tourists being delighted by the potions and displays. No more posing for selfies and wondering if people were “just looking.” No more spooky music playing over and over on a track to “add to the ambience,” as Billy put it. Now, it was just locals coming in for their usual remedies.

We would have a few weeks’ reprieve before the novelty of a Halloween-themed town started pulling drips and drabs of people in again in the new year. We needed the tourism and revenue, but it was nice to have a break.

I heard Ichabod’s little mewls, and I turned to find him purring away under the table. I bent down to peek and found none other than Harlow sat there, giving him a scratch.

My mouth fell open.

I had been actively avoiding the café, giving Harlow space to figure out what she wanted with me—if anything at all. My heart had sunk a little more with each day I hadn’t seen her. I was beginning to wonder if maybe it really was over. But here she was, under the apothecary table as if summoned by my hopes alone.

When Harlow spotted me, she jolted, banging her head on the table. “Oh, hey,” she said as if I were the one in a surprising place. She rubbed the top of her head. “Iris said you weren’t working today.”

I arched my brow at Iris, who just gave me a grin and put a finger to the side of her nose. I rolled my eyes. Of course she was meddling.

Harlow sheepishly climbed out, Ichabod pawing at her legs. She finally relented and picked him up for more scratches.

“So you’ve been secretly coming here to pet my cat?” I asked with a half smile. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Little tattletale.” Harlow kissed the top of Ichabod’s head. “His purring gave me away. Thank goodness for that. I feel like a bit of a jerk for avoiding you, but I wanted to know how you were doing and, uh, Iris was keeping me updated.”

I looked her up and down. “From now on, ask me, not Iris.”

“Okay,” she hedged.

“Okay,” I echoed awkwardly. “It’s, um, really nice to see you.”

She’d trimmed her hair again; her bangs were shorter. Luna, the local stylist, had done a good job with the cut—very wolfish. Harlow fit right in.

“You look . . . well. Really well.”

Fuck me and all the moons and stars. I needed to stop talking.

These weren’t the things I wanted to say. I didn’t want to just tell her she looked well like a fool. I wanted to ask her real questions. Like if she’d thought about us or if she missed me as much as I missed her. Like if it felt like a part of her had been missing since that night at the café. Like maybe the things we were feeling were a whole hell of a lot closer to love than we’d first thought. I was dying to hear if she would give us another try.

Instead, I swung my arms back and forth, waiting for her to break the awkward silence.

“Thanks,” she finally said, saving us.

Goddess, I wanted to kiss her so badly. I wanted to feel her arms wrapped around me. I wanted to tell her all of the sacred, little words that had been screaming in my mind from the moment I saw Juniper’s hand around her throat—the ones I’d been terrified I might not get a chance to say.

“Uh, well, I should be going.” Harlow gave Ichabod one final kiss on the top of his head and set him back down. “Willow’s taken the day off so I’m shutting things down myself.”

I smiled at the pride that laced her words.

That was a big deal. A really big deal. For both Willow and Harlow.

I wanted to hug Harlow and tell her how proud I was of her. I knew how hard it was for her to stick things out. Once she messed up, she preferred fleeing to learning. But here she was, helping run the café, developing her skills, and gaining her sister’s trust. She’d chosen to stay. Maybe she’d be willing to move on from the mess I’d made too?

But instead of sharing these thoughts, I just said, “Okay, well, have a good night.”

What the fuck is wrong with me? I silently screamed at myself.

She was finally here, the girl I’d been dreaming of seeing for the last several weeks, and all I could say to her was “have a good night”?