The Pumpkin Spice Spell (Wisteria Cove, #1)

by Erin Branscom

And what's better than a cozy bookstore and coffee shop in the fall? Absolutely nothing, that’s what.

My good life doesn’t require much, just a steaming mug of tea, a good book, and some quiet solitude in my favorite place.

But God help me, he looks really good sitting there with his broad shoulders hunched slightly over the counter, calloused fingers curled around the mug like this seat’s been waiting for him all this time.

You know what clears the air between two stubborn people? Breaking a bed frame! Works like a charm!”

I’m still in love with her. Always have been. I always will be.

“Sometimes I think that’s why I love fiction books so much,” she says. “They’re safe pain. You feel it, but you know it’s not real. You know the ending’s coming. You know someone wrote it, and it’s not real pain, not usually, anyway.” “But real life?” I say. She nods. “That hurts in a way that doesn’t always get wrapped up.”

“I want to be walking a golden retriever named Pretzel right now,” Ivy mutters.

can’t stop looking at Tate—soft-eyed, hoodie-wearing, kitten-carrying—and thinking: I really might be falling in love with the man who wears a cat.