Page 26 of The Pumpkin Spice Romance
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he bent to secure one of the tarp’s loose corners, tying it off with a knot. When he straightened again, he faced her fully.
“Because I couldn’t let you down again.”
The words hit her harder than she expected, stealing the air from her lungs. She wanted to respond, but nothing came. What could she say to that? This wasn’t the boy who’d left without a backward glance all those years ago. He was different. A genuine person who showed up in the aftermath of a storm, tired and muddy, ready to make things right.
Silence stretched between them, heavy with meaning. Mr. Buttercup broke it with a sudden bleat, headbutting Graham’s leg as if urging him to keep working. Graham chuckled, bending to scratch the goat behind the ears.
“Persistent little guy.” Graham glanced at Autumn with a grin. “Just like someone else I know.”
She couldn’t help it—a small laugh escaped her. “Well, I have to keep things running around here.”
“And you’ve been doing a great job of it,” he replied, his tone serious again. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”
Autumn searched his face for any sign of insincerity. She found none. Slowly, she nodded. “Okay. But don’t think this gets you out of your duties.”
Graham smiled, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Yes, Ma’am.”
5
Autumn
Autumn turned in a slow circle, taking in the scene around her. The chaos of the previous day had vanished, giving way to an almost magical sense of order. The tents loomed tall, their bright colors glowing in the first rays of sunlight. Once toppled and scattered, the pumpkin displays had been restored into even more intricate arrangements.
The vintage watering cans—her grandmother’s pride and joy—had also been meticulously rearranged into a whimsical tower near the entrance of the barn. A deep and tender flutter rippled through her chest as she realized how much care had gone into the work. Someone hadn’t just fixed things—they’d made them beautiful again.
The man responsible—Graham—hovered near a table of decorative gourds, adjusting the placement of a large one. His flannel shirt hung loose over his shoulders, the fabric streaked with mud and damp from the mist that still clung to the ground. His disheveled hair and shadowed eyes hinted at exhaustion, but his movements remained calm and methodical, as if the task were an extension of himself.
“You stayed all night?” she asked, approaching with two steaming thermoses in hand. The warmth of the coffee pressed into her palms as she extended one to him.
Graham straightened and accepted the offered cup. Their fingers brushed, and the brief contact sent a quiet thrill through her. “Had a lot to make up for.” He didn’t waver, and his eyes held hers without so much as a flicker of doubt. Graham’s hand rested at his sides, open and unguarded, as though inviting her to search him for any hidden motives. “Pops is already talking about getting back to the store. Says he can’t wait to boss me around again.”
She chuckled. “That sounds like Robert.” Then she asked, “And the phone call? The one about moving back?”
Graham paused, lowering the thermos. “Ah. You heard that?” The faintest hint of sheepishness crossed his face and he shifted his gaze away. “They offered me a partnership. Corner office, seven figures, everything I thought I wanted.”
Thought?Autumn leaned against a fencepost, cradling her thermos as Graham shifted awkwardly under her steady scrutiny. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking more like the boy she remembered than the polished man she’d seen when he first arrived back in Hayden.
“They offered me a partnership,” he repeated, meeting her eyes this time. “The kind of job that makes people call you a success just for having it.”
“And you’re . . . not taking it?” she asked, the words slow, careful.
“No.” Graham let out a quiet laugh, almost self-deprecating. “Turns out what I thought I wanted wasn’t what I needed. That call made me realize—I was chasing this idea of who I thought I should be, but it didn’t leave room for the things that actually matter.”
Autumn tilted her head to study him. “Like?”
He gestured vaguely toward the horizon, where the town was just beginning to wake up. “This place. My pops. You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Graham set his thermos down on the fencepost. “When I left it was all about escaping, about building a new life away from here. Only later did I realize what I had left behind. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Autumn needed a moment to process his words. She wanted to believe him—really believe him. Give him a second chance. A decade might have dulled the edges of her pain, but it hadn’t erased it. It sat there quietly, like an old scar—a faint throb she felt whenever he was near. “And the store?” she asked, buying time.
“It’s part of it,” Graham admitted. “Pops needs help, especially now. He wants to modernize but keep its history intact. And this town—it deserves both. Progress without losing what makes it special.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“Believe me. I’ve had time to think.”
