Page 24 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Robyn blinked. “You sound like you run a seasonal cocktail menu.”

“It’s a hobby of mine.” Tyler grinned. “I used to be a bartender way back in the day in college.”

Robyn laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing. “Okay… cider. Spiked. But not too strong.”

“You got it.”

A few minutes later, warm mugs in hand, they headed down to the lower living room. The space was cozy and lived-in with soft lamps, a big sectional, and a blanket folded over one arm.

On the coffee table, the library books were already laid out in a neat stack. Tyler gestured toward the couch. “Alright, Book Detective. Ready to solve the ancient mysteries of Maple Falls?”

Robyn sank onto the sectional, tucking her legs beneath her. “Only if you promise not to let Mrs. C. barge in and demand her books back.”

Tyler sat beside her—close, but not touching. Yet. “If she does, I’ll protect you.”

Robyn lifted her mug, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with cider. “I’ll hold you to that.”

An hour later, they’d made it through every book. It didn’t take long when they were only chasing one specific page number and nothing—absolutely nothing—jumped out at Robyn as remotely clue-ish. No dramatic underlining. No mysterious margin notes. No if found, proceed to the next location hidden in cursive.

“I’ve got nothing,” Robyn said, closing the last book with a soft thump and leaning back against the couch.

Tyler was sprawled beside her, one ankle crossed over his knee, a history book open on his lap. He squinted at his page, and then made a face.

“Yeah. Me either.” He tapped the paper with one finger. “Page sixty-two is all about the agricultural history of Maple Falls, and I’m pretty sure they didn’t hide the next clue in a compost pile.”

“I wish we had more history books at the store. I wanted to check the back, make sure I wasn’t missing anything… but I forgot. Ran out of time.”

Tyler glanced up, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You? Forgetting things?”

“It happens.”

“Not to you,” he said.

She reached for her drink. “Well. Guess I’m slipping.”

“Or,” he said, closing his book this time, “something else had your attention.”

Robyn didn’t look at him and took a sip, letting the warm spiciness of the cider slide down her throat. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

They both paused.

Tyler broke first. “You’ve been avoiding looking at me.”

She nearly choked on her sip. “I have not.”

“You have,” he said easily. “Since earlier.”

She let out a small laugh. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?”

Robyn finally glanced over and met his eyes. The challenge was there in the depths of his pupils, pulling her in.

Tyler watched her for a second, then said, “You get this dazed look. Right after I kiss you. Like you’ve forgotten your own name.”

She huffed and set her glass down. “I just forgot to look for some books, Tyler; I didn’t forget who I am.”

“Is that so? Hmm. Guess I’ll have to try a bit harder next time.”