Page 64 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

Hunter tolerated it with the resignation of a man who knew resistance would draw attention.

“Rosie’s inside,” Darlene told Clover. “She’s having a fit over the table arrangement.”

“Why?” she asked, worried.

“June took the table closest to the outlet.”

Clover pouted, hands on hips. “Rosie doesn’t need an outlet.”

Darlene’s attention moved toward me. “And I heard you had Carson Rome in your truck yesterday.”

I hadn’t been inside the building for thirty seconds.

“Good evening, Darlene.”

“That’s not a denial.”

“Her truck broke down.”

“I heard…”

“Then why are you asking?”

“To see whether your version match—Mrs. Baker! Hello!”

Dad escaped while she was distracted, and I followed close behind. Town hall looked less like a government building and more like somebody had turned it into an autumn wedding reception. Garlands of fake leaves wrapped around the support beams. Battery lanterns sat along the windows. Someone had arranged miniature pumpkins down the center of every folding table.

At the front of the room, a whiteboard had been divided into categories.

FOOD

VENDORS

ENTERTAINMENT

CHILDREN’S ACTIVITIES

LOCATION???

Rosie stood beneath the board. Her dark hair was tied high tonight, and a pencil had been shoved through the bun. She wore boots, jeans, and a black sweater with sleeves pushed to her elbows.

“Joneses.” She pointed toward a table. “Sit there.”

Jax stopped. “Did you assign seats?”

“I assigned expertise.”

“What expertise requires all of us in one place?”

“Automotive.”

“This is a Harvest Festival.”

“Trailers. Generators. Hayrides. Parade float.”

Jax frowned, and his eyes narrowed. “We don’t build floats.”

“You do now.”