Page 30 of Autumn at the Cat Cafe

“Speed dating?”

She turned to him. “Surely they have speed dating in your neck of the woods.”

“I wouldn’t know.” He tugged at the bottom of Earl’s sweatshirt. “Dating’s not on my agenda right now.”

“Mine either.” She straightened, her expression relaxing again.

He was glad they were establishing personal boundaries now.He didn’t need to get romantically involved with anyone, especially with a cat-loving, quirky beauty like Via.

“Dora is running the event, so I won’t be there.” Via wrote downPumpkin Patchon this Saturday’s square. “The café closes at three. We’ll leave around four.”

So it begins. “What’s the dress code?”

“For a pumpkin patch? Jeans, sweatshirt.” She smirked. “Whatever Earl’s got in his closet that’s warm.”

“There’s plenty to choose from.” He was glad she didn’t think it was weird he was wearing Earl’s clothes. She seemed to be pragmatic, something he prided himself in being. “My car only seats two, though,” he said, assuming she would want him to drive and take a ride in the Turismo, like everyone else.

“Oh, we’re taking Gold Yeller.”

That’s right. With everything going on, he forgot about Earl’s truck.

“I plan on getting a bunch of pumpkins, or else we’d take my car.”

“You don’t want to ride in the Turismo?”

She paused. “I hadn’t thought about it. Anyway, Gold Yeller is parked out back. Which reminds me, you should probably park back there too.”

“Not a chance.” There was a window in the apartment that faced the front of the square, but not the back parking lot. “Too risky.”

Via’s expression was incredulous. “You’re worried about it getting stolen?”

“Or damaged. It’s a three-hundred-thousand-dollar car, Via. Yeah, I’m worried about theft.”

“That’s a lot of money. Hedge funds must be booming.”

“I do all right.” He did better than all right, but he didn’t like to brag—his foolish mention of summa cum laude notwithstanding.

“Pecan Corner is safe,” she said. “We’ve only had two break-ins in the last ten years. The worst crime people commit around here is being a little drunk and disorderly around the holidays. Sheriff Griffin is bored half the time.”

“I don’t want to take the chance.”

A pause. “I guess Gold Yeller is yours too,” Via said quietly.

“That’s what Bennett says.” Technically it wasn’t his. Not yet. But it would be, with her help. Once it was his he would sell it along with the rest of Earl’s property. Even if he wanted to keep it, how would he get it back to California? And what would he do with an old truck?

She ducked her head and stared at the calendar. “Let’s get this schedule figured out.”

Right. They’d gotten sidetracked enough. “Pumpkin patch this Saturday.”

“Yes,” she said, underlining it. “Apple picking the following Wednesday afternoon. The fresh-pressed cider at Applewood Orchard is delicious.” Then she wroteCamping Under the Starson next Saturday’s block.

“What time?”

“For what?”

“What time are we meeting to go camping?”

“We’renot going.” Her expression was unyielding.