Page 54 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Robyn’s fork hesitated halfway to her mouth. “That feels like a… big future-tense sentence to just throw out there over breakfast.”

“Yeah.” Tyler let the word sit for a moment. He could’ve backpedaled, made a joke, changed the subject, but he didn’t. “Emma told me that I should ask you out, make you my girlfriend.”

Robyn grinned. “Did she now?”

“She very much approves.”

Her eyes searched his, like she was checking for a punchline and not finding one. “Tyler…”

He set his fork down, suddenly unable to keep pretending this was normal small talk. “Look, I know a lot is hanging over you right now,” he said gently. “Your parents. Yale. The internet doing what it does. You’ve got more spinning plates than anyone should have to juggle.”

“That’s one way to put it,” she muttered.

“But last night…” He exhaled, steadying himself. “Last night didn’t feel temporary to me.”

Robyn visibly swallowed.

“I don’t want this to just be a temporary thing,” he said, voice low. “I don’t want to look back and say, ‘Hey, remember that one fall when we kissed under every tree in Maple Falls and then you went back to Connecticut and that was it.’” His mouth twisted. “I want you in my life. However we make that work. However long it takes to figure out the details.”

She stared at him, coffee forgotten between her hands. He could almost see the struggle happening behind her eyes, logic weighing itself against the very obvious fact that she wanted to be here as much as he did.

“Tyler,” she said finally, her voice very soft, “there’s a decent chance I might get hauled in front of some committee and told to pack up my office anyway.”

“Okay,” he said. “If that happens, we handle it.” He kept his expression neutral, but it wasn’t easy. Because there was a flicker, small and shameful, that he didn’t like looking at too closely. If Yale did let her go, she wouldn’t have to leave in five weeks. She might stay. They’d have more time. The thought made something in his chest lift and sink at the same time.

He shoved it down hard. Wanting her here didn’t mean wanting her to lose something she loved so much.

“We?” she echoed.

He reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers. “We,” he repeated, making himself mean it. “If Yale decides they don’t want a brilliant professor who also happens to write wildly successful romance novels, that’s their loss. You’ll still have options.” His thumb brushed her knuckles. “And you’ll still have me… and Emma.”

Tears shimmered at the edges of Robyn’s eyes. “Look at you, getting me all emotional over breakfast,” she whispered.

He huffed out a laugh. “Sorry. I’ll stick to approved topics. Weather, sports, pumpkin pies⁠—”

At that, a tiny, strangled groan escaped her. “Pumpkin pies. We still haven’t found the last installment of Isabel’s story. Eight days. That’s all we’ve got left.”

“There it is,” he said gently. “There’s my overachiever.”

She squeezed his fingers. “I just… I want to do right by Isabel. And the bookstore. We have to find the perfect buyer. Estevez certainly isn’t it.” She couldn’t even say his name without scrunching her nose. “And I hate leaving things to the last minute. I don’t leave things to chance.”

“You know, I hadn’t realized that,” Tyler said jokingly, turning back to his breakfast.

Robyn squeezed his hand once more, then pulled free to pick up her fork. “Okay,” she said, taking a breath. “Next step. After this French toast, we figure out how to solve a century-old pumpkin pie mystery before Halloween.”

He watched her take another bite, watched the way her shoulders sat a little lower, her breathing a little easier. They didn’t have everything figured out. This wasn’t a declaration with a ring and a moving truck. But they were being honest. Open.

And for now, that felt like exactly the right place to be.

Her phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen and groaned. “Book club chat has officially gone bananas.” She showed him her phone. “Pumpkin emojis everywhere. And I think Mayor Bloomfield just volunteered us for newspaper research.”

“Then,” Tyler said, standing to top off her coffee, “it looks like our afternoon plans after the bookstore closes just found us.”

Robyn looked up at him, eyes warm, a future he could only hope for reflected there.

And outside, the October light brightened over Maple Falls, as if the town itself were leaning in, waiting to see what they’d do next.

TWENTY-FIVE