Page 41 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

There’d be no grand reveal, no finished book to sell, no reason for the influencers and tourists to stay longer than a photo op. And without a successful event, there’d be no dream buyer walking through the door. Just Estevez, waiting with his offer and his plans for refrigeration units where these shelves stood now.

She couldn’t let that happen. Not to Meg. Not to Isabel’s story. And not to the bookstore that was starting to feel less like someone else’s and more like her own.

Tyler followed her into the aisle, his presence warming the narrow space between the shelves. His fingers brushed her wrist as he took one of the books from her hands.

“You can slow down now. Relax,” he murmured.

Robyn gave a short laugh as she slid the last book into place. “That’s easy for you to say. People are traveling for miles to hear it. What if we don’t find the rest?”

Tyler shrugged calmly. “Worst-case scenario, you read from sections one and two at the event. Everyone will still have a good time.”

She wanted to believe him. She really did. But the part of her brain that had clawed its way to a tenure track at Yale, that had spent her entire life being told that good wasn’t good enough, wouldn’t let her. Two-thirds of a story wasn’t a story. It was perfect or bust. And she was not going to let the event, the bookstore, go bust.

Robyn turned, leaning back against the shelf, the paper leaves and twinkle lights from the book nook casting a warm glow down the aisle.

Something in Robyn gave way. Before she could overthink it, she reached for the front of Tyler’s shirt and kissed him.

It felt a little desperate in the way she hated admitting she could be. Like she needed the connection to steady herself back into her own body. Tyler froze for a heartbeat, and then his hand found her waist, and he kissed her back—warm and firm.

They broke apart, both of them breathing heavy, when the bell over the door jingled. Again.

Robyn didn’t usually mind déjà vu, but this was getting ridiculous.

Tyler stepped back so abruptly that he bumped the shelf. Robyn adjusted her hair clip with shaking fingers.

Mrs. C.’s voice carried down the aisle. “Hello? Sorry, we’re a bit early.”

Moments later, the trio of older ladies appeared at the end of the aisle. Mrs. C.’s eyes swept over them with immediate, razor-sharp understanding. Mrs. Bishop and Edith hovered behind her, arms full of trays and tins, all three of them looking far too pleased with themselves.

Mrs. C.’s gaze flicked between Robyn and Tyler, unimpressed. “I don’t know what you two keep hopping apart for,” she said. “Everyone knows you’re dating.”

Edith stepped forward with a tin of spiced shortbread and a fond, knowing smile. “Your Insta post was too cute. I don’t know how you young folks find the time to do it all—manage businesses and have midnight liaisons. Sounds exhausting,” she finished, earnest as anything. “Do you need electrolytes?”

Tyler made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh.

Robyn clapped her hands once—loud, decisive, and entirely too cheerful. “How about I get you all copies of the second installment?” she said, grabbing the safest topic available like it was a life raft.

Within minutes, the rest of the club members arrived, and thankfully, none of them opened with commentary about Robyn and Tyler’s love life. The book nook filled again with that cozy, bustling energy—someone lighting a pumpkin-spice-scented candle, chairs scraping, plates clinking, laughter layering over the low hum of the bookstore at night.

The treat spread grew, too. Mrs. Bishop’s savory trays joined Edith’s shortbread; Zoe’s sparkling apple cider appeared beside Kit’s cranberry brie pull-apart bread and cinnamon pear tarts; and Emily set down pumpkin cupcakes crowned with thick swirls of cream cheese frosting.

Robyn was just setting out a couple of extra chairs when the bell chimed again, and Elsie breezed in last, cheeks pink from the cold, radiating that high-octane energy of hers. She shrugged out of her leather coat, phone already in her hand, and offered a bright, unapologetic smile.

“Okay,” she said, holding up her hands before anyone could tease her about arriving empty-handed. “I know. I didn’t bring anything. Please don’t exile me from the book club.”

“You’re on thin ice,” Mrs. Bishop told her solemnly, but her eyes were gleaming with amusement.

Elsie laughed, then exhaled in a way that said she hadn’t properly breathed all day. “It’s been wild,” she said, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Our Halloween event, Midnight in Maple Falls, has already gone viral on TikTok. I posted it, what—a day ago? And my DMs are… unhinged. In a good way, obviously.”

Robyn’s fingers tightened around the stack of plates. “Viral,” she repeated.

Madison nodded, already filling a plate with all her favorites. “We sold out of rooms at the inn,” she said matter-of-factly.

Robyn’s mind instantly sprinted ahead to every possible outcome, every possible failure, and arranged them neatly into a list she couldn’t stop reading.

“That’s um…” she managed, forcing her mouth into something that resembled a smile. “That’s amazing.”

For a moment, Robyn had the absurd urge to bolt to the stockroom and hide behind the stacks of paper towels until Halloween was over.