Page 64 of The Pumpkin Spice Romance
The cashier opened the sliding window to pass over their meal, preventing Noah from sharing his thoughts aloud.
He paid for the food, placed their drinks in the cupholders, and caught Scarlett snatching fries.
Noah pretended her thievery had offended him. Scarlett protested his unfair accusation and swore her innocence. They joked and ribbed and laughed and teased.
The fifteen-minute drive to Daisy Lake went by in a flash. The hands of time seemed to cycle too quickly when Noah was around; Scarlett decided she’d be smart to savor every second.
Noah carried the food bags and a quilt from the back seat of his truck, and Scarlett held her cameras as they walked to the end of the dock. Together, they folded and laid out the quilt to sit upon. Noah handed Scarlett a box of fish and chips — but not the one she’d stolen French fries from — and took the other for himself. She claimed to see an owl flying over the lake, and when he looked in the direction she’d indicated, Scarlett tossed a handful of fries into his box.
Noah noticed right off but let her get away with it without a word.
They ate in the not-quite silence of the lake, alive with the distant sounds of fish jumping and splashing, birds singing and calling, insects chirping, and cicadas buzzing.
As the sun’s descent lit a bold and brilliant fire in the sky, Scarlett traded her food box for her camera bag. She chose the best lens and exact settings for the style and composition she wanted to create and turned her attention to the vivid display of color.
Molten gold filtered through steel-gray tufts of padded clouds. Swaths of pink, purple, and orange wrestled for prominence. The smooth surface of the lake reflected their battle in the faintest of ripples, set in motion by the imperceptible flutter of a butterfly’s wing. The dichotomy between the violently changing sky and the still waters beneath it staged a powerful drama.
Scarlett snapped frame after frame until the burning yellow disk sank into the horizon, leaving the world in inky darkness, its only relief a sliver of the waning moon and a billion stars staking claim to the night.
“The water won,” she said, setting aside her camera and leaning back on her elbows to gaze up into the nothingness.
“How do you figure?” Noah asked.
“It’s still here,” Scarlett replied. “The sun and the light fought a valiant fight, but in the end, they succumbed to defeat. The waves keep rolling. And underneath, stillness prevailed.”
“Until tomorrow,” Noah added.
“After all, tomorrow is another day.”
7
A kiss that is never tasted,
is forever and ever wasted.
Billie Holiday
Wednesday, September 30, 2026
For several minutes after she recited the famous line, Noah had studied Scarlett. He didn’t for one minute doubt she was just as tough and resilient as the iconic character she quoted.
Thoughts of her had continued to occupy his mind into the wee hours of the morning, preventing sleep until the light she seemed to crave softened the sky.
And when he drifted off to doze for a bit, Scarlett had visited Noah in his dreams.
The instant his phone alarm startled him awake with Mandisa belting “It’s a Good Morning,” heady anticipation flooded his brain. Noah couldn’t wait to see her.
He had it bad.
Admitting is the first step to addressing.
Acknowledging the fact that he was over-the-moon, 100 percenttakenwith a virtual stranger should’ve set off warning bells.
But no. . . Only a sense of rapt delight accompanied Noah as he showered, dressed, picked up coffee and donuts, and drove to the little apartment on Main Street.
He was downright giddy jogging up the stairs. Giddy!
“Good morning,” he said with a goofy smile when she opened the door before he’d even come to a full stop on the landing. His eyes scanned over Scarlett — from her coppery-brown tousled waves. . .to a ruby-red sweatshirt and the same quilted, sand-colored jacket she’d worn the two previous days. . .to hip-hugging, faded, and slightly ripped blue jeans, which were rolled to sit on the top of faux-fur-lined duck boots. . .and back up to the frazzled gleam in her enchanting slate-blue eyes.
