Page 43 of Lycans & Lattes

Bones and Tomes was a labyrinth of dusty, old books stacked to the ceiling, thick carpets, velvet couches, and dark wood tables displaying newer titles. It was still midmorning, but there was never a lull this time of year.

A group of young women who looked like they were here on a bachelorette vacation, judging by their matching sweat sets and sashes, each held a takeaway cup from Midnight Market, but the logo was crossed out and something was scrawled over it in red marker.

One of the women held up a small paperback for her friend to see. “Delaney, here’s that sex magic book I was telling you about.”

Delaney, a tall brunette woman who wore a bride sash across her chest, crossed the room and set her cup on a shelf, finally giving me a good look at what was written on it: Witch’s Brew Pop-up.

What the hell?

“Excuse me?” I heard myself ask. I pointed to the message on Delaney’s cup. “What does Witch’s Brew Pop-up mean?”

I really hoped I wasn’t being pushed out of town and having my business stolen out from under me.

Both women shrugged.

“I guess the town only has one coffee house, and the owner had some sort of accident last night,” Delaney answered.

“So, the creepy green-head guy put out hot chocolate and drip coffee at the market in exchange for donations to repair the café,” the other woman finished.

“Oh.” My voice cracked. “That’s . . . really nice.”

Another of the bridesmaids stumbled toward us, a cup in one hand and two books on love magic in the other. “It was sweet and all, but the cute guy wasn’t there today. They would have gotten way more money if they had him out front.”

“With his shirt off!” added Delaney.

“Yeah!” chorused her friends, and they all made their way to the checkout desk, ready to continue their shopping crawl.

I turned to Harlow, who looked just as surprised and touched as I did.

“That may have been my idea,” came a voice from behind one of the shelves.

Avery stepped around the endcap with caution, tucking a copy of Fangs for Nothing by Steffanie Holmes under her arm.

“I didn’t mean to pry, but I saw Wyatt running from the café last night on my walk about town. I ran to get help, but you were already gone by the time Billy and I got there. We saw you in the window of the apartment above the apothecary and figured the witches had a handle on it.”

I looked at my sister, who was still in shock.

Harlow rubbed the back of her neck, putting the pieces together.

“I had no idea what Billy had in mind. He offered to have Dean come and help with the repairs, but I guess he had other tricks up his oversized sleeves.”

I glanced back at Avery, and she shrugged as if the gesture were no big deal. “I had a shift at the ice cream counter, and somewhere between refilling the caramel cone coffee and the cinnamon bun ice cream tubs, the idea hit me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted truthfully.

The town had always supported local businesses and fought off any large corporations that tried to wiggle their way in. But this was another level of support that I had never expected. Even though the town always rallied around its own, I had never considered that “one of their own” could include me.

Avery’s red lips quirked. “It’s nothing fancy, but hopefully it’ll help.”

I hauled her in for a big hug. Apparently, I was becoming the town hugger. Avery patted my back the best she could with my arms pinning hers to her sides.

“You’re welcome, I think?” she said as I pulled away.

“I can’t thank you enough.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder at Harlow. “I was forced to take the day off until the door was fixed. I don’t do well with time off.”

“You don’t say.” Avery rolled her eyes. “So you came to the bookstore? Good choice, I guess, but on your one day off, you really should’ve taken a trip to Sugar Plum Valley.”

“I didn’t take you for a candy canes and snowmen kind of gal, Avery.”