G.G. Andrew's Blog

I’m excited to announce that my Thanksgiving romance novella, No-Kiss November, is now out! This funny small-town romance is packed with autumn vibes, flirty banter, and a sweet romance between a woman who thinks she’s cursed and a single dad mayor. You can read it on Kindle Unlimited or grab a copy to own. Or keep reading for the full description…

Ever since Murray Carver cursed Riley’s great-grandmother at Oak Bend’s annual Thanksgiving festival seven decades ago, the women in her family have been unlucky in love. Infidelity. Divorce. Death by parade float. After her own series of heartbreaks, Riley lives by firm rules: Only date unsuitable men. Never fall in love. And absolutely never kiss a man in November.

But when her great-aunt needs assistance organizing Oak Bend’s upcoming Thanksgiving festival, Riley flies to New England to help. Oak Bend is unimaginably cute, but unfortunately so is the town mayor: Stone Carver, a single dad… and the great-grandson of the man who cursed her family.

The sparks that fly between Riley and Stone are brighter than the leaves falling from the autumn trees. But Stone can’t seem to convince Riley that the curse is all in her head — especially when she knows the dangers of falling in love during decorative gourd season.

Can Riley and Stone find a way to kiss her curse goodbye by Thanksgiving?

Get it today!

My short story “Everything Left Unsaid” is now available in ebook everywhere! This story originally appeared in the women’s fiction anthology A Million Ways: Stories of Motherhood, but now it’s out on its own. You can find it at your favorite bookstore here for .99. Want to read it for free? Subscribe to my newsletter (if you’re not already on it), and you’ll get access to the story, among other free stories and scenes. Go here to join!

More about the story…

Kayla and her mother, Susan, were never on the same page. But months after Susan’s death, Kayla is rifling through old family recipes when she finds one for a World War II cake. As she bakes the cake alongside her young autistic daughter, Kayla learns something about her mother — and about the different languages we use to express love.

It was a warm summer night, the kind that flickered with fireflies and possibilities. But Allison was nervous. Before Scott came over that evening, she put on a light pink sundress and brushed out her hair. Then she made a list.

When Scott knocked on the door, she opened it. Before he had a chance to say hello, she held up a finger. “Reason one why I cannot marry you: We’ve both been married before. We know marriage doesn’t work.”

Scott stood on her doorstep, his broad-shouldered frame and dark hair streaked with gray, unfortunately as handsome as ever. “That’s not a very big sample size. And hello to you too.” He grinned, holding a bouquet of white roses that nearly glowed in the moonlight.

The roses smelled amazing. Still, she wasn’t going to give in. Since Scott had proposed last night, Allison had come up with ten reasons why they couldn’t possibly do this.

“Two.” She held up another finger. “We’re both over 50. Who gets married over 50?”

“Plenty of people,” Scott countered. “And even if there weren’t, who’s to say we couldn’t be the first?”

“Three,” she said. “We haven’t been dating all that long.”

“We’ve known each other since we were eight years old.” Scott held up the flowers. “Can I come in?”

She sighed and stepped to the side, letting him walk inside her home. He rummaged in her cupboards for a vase as Allison continued her list.

“Four you know too much about me. There’s no mystery. And fifth, you don’t like chocolate.” She crossed her arms. “Who doesn’t like chocolate? It’s a character flaw, if you ask me.”

Scott started laughing. “Allison, honey, chocolate? That’s why you can’t marry me? I’ll start eating it, if it means that much. Dark chocolate, milk, white, whatever kind you got.”

She held up her hand. “Six, I’m going to look ridiculous in a wedding dress. Seven, how could I choose a maid of honor when I have two best friends? Eight, we can’t get married right now. It’s allergy season.”

She paused in her rambling to breathe. Scott put the roses into a vase on her kitchen counter and walked over, wrapping his arms around her. “Honey, it’s always allergy season.”

Her body relaxed into Scott’s warm embrace, his scent a comforting mixture of summertime and a familiarity that nonetheless made butterflies dance in her belly. But she needed to finish the list. “Nine, you hate onions, and I find them essential to cooking. And ten—” Her voice trembled as she buried her face into his chest. “You’re my oldest, dearest friend. If this doesn’t work, I don’t want to lose you.”

Scott guided her outside to the patio. There, under the soft moonlight, he faced her, clasping both of her hands in his strong palms.

“Here’s my list,” he said. “Let’s get the important stuff out of the way first: I’m okay eating chocolate occasionally, you can have two maids of honor, and you can use shallots instead of onions.”

She smiled weakly.

Scott continued. “We’re older now, but that means we’re better at knowing what we want. And I want you.”

Allison’s heart drummed in her chest. Even if she was worried he knew her too well, being near Scott always felt exciting and new, especially these past two months after they’d finally admitted their feelings for one another.

“We’ve both been married before, it’s true,” Scott said, “but not to each other. You’ve got no proof that our marriage wouldn’t work, and my gut tells me it will. What does your gut say?”

Allison bit her lip. Her gut was saying yes, but that didn’t mean she still wasn’t scared.

“Whatever season I get to marry you will be the perfect time,” Scott added, “with or without pollen. There’s no doubt that when that happens, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “And you think because we know each other so well, there’s no mystery? Honey, each day I learn something new about you. Tonight, for instance, I’ve learned that you think liking chocolate makes you a better person.”

She laughed and he squeezed her hands. 

“I know you’re scared,” Scott said. “I’m scared, too. But I love you, Allie. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I want nothing more than to wake up next to you for the rest of our lives.”

Tears filled her eyes. She’d given him her list and he’d supplied his, but it was time to let those reasons go and leap into this new beginning with a full heart. On a warm summer night, anything seemed possible.

“Yes,” Allison said, her heart filled to bursting. “Scott, I will marry you.”

June 8th marks Women’s Fiction Day, and I’m doing a fun giveaway to celebrate. From now until June 15th, subscribe to my newsletter list (if you’re not already on it) and you’ll be entered to win one of two paperbacks of my romantic women’s fiction novel, Maybe She Will. Winners will be contacted by their subscription email on June 17th. Go here to sign up!

I’m excited to announce that I have a new book coming out on April 16th. MAYBE SHE WILL is a romantic women’s fiction novel about the mom of a teenage girl and autistic boy who embarks on a forbidden romance, complicating her life. You can learn more or preorder the book at your favorite store here, or keep reading for the full description!

Josephine, a 41-year-old single mom, is too busy for romance. Balancing a teenage daughter and an autistic son keeps her hands full. Now, she’s in a showdown with the special education department at Jackson’s new school, advocating for his needs—occasionally in her pajamas.

Thirty-two-year-old Gavin left the sales world for education because he didn’t know what he wanted. The last thing the school coordinator expects—or needs—is to catch feelings for the mother of one of his clients.

Juggling special education meetings, Shabbat dinners, support groups, and stolen kisses, Josephine and Gavin must figure out how to meet Jackson’s needs while deciding if their connection can overcome the differences in their lives and the scars from their less-than-perfect pasts.

If you like witty dialogue, heartwarming moments, and the zing of forbidden romance, you’ll love this story of two unlikely people falling in love. Discover this funny and heartwarming story today!

Enjoy this free short romance about a woman who runs into her seventh-grade boyfriend (from 20 years ago!) during the holiday season.

The last person Monica expected to run into the weekend after Thanksgiving was Tony Burrows, her seventh-grade boyfriend.

She was walking into a coffee shop. A man held the door open for her, and as she brushed past him, he said, “Monica? Monica Stevens?”

“Yes?” Monica stopped and turned just inside the door. The man had a brawny build, thick blond hair, and a trim beard. She didn’t recognize him.

He pointed at himself. “It’s Tony. Tony Burrows.” He let the door to the cafe shut.

“Tony?” Her jaw dropped. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you! It’s been a while.” 

“Over 20 years.” Tony grinned and stepped toward her. “You look exactly the same. I mean, all grown up of course, and…” He cleared his throat and swallowed. “You look great.”

“Thanks.” Up close, Tony’s features became more recognizable. There were those warm, sparkling brown eyes she remembered, with that tuft of hair sticking up in back he hadn’t outgrown. Little Tony Burrows was what her mom used to call him. But the nickname no longer fit, Monica thought as she noticed his broad shoulders in the flannel jacket he wore. “I can’t believe you’re back in town!” she said. “I never imagined I’d see you again.”

Surrounded by the shop’s warm air, coffee aroma, and holiday tunes, she looked him over. At 12, Tony had been her first crush, her first boyfriend—even her first kiss as they said goodbye when summer came and Tony’s family moved away. Monica remembered their year of holding hands and exchanging notes with sweet fondness. Tony had always been so easy to talk to—maybe even more than any guy she’d met since. At the delight of seeing him again, a bevy of butterflies took flight in her stomach.

“I’m here visiting my aunt for Thanksgiving,” Tony said. “What about you? Do you still live in town?”

She shook her head. “No, I live about an hour south of here. I moved there when I got married.” She hastily added, “I’m divorced now. But it’s not the holidays without being at my grandma’s house.”

They shared a smile. “Does she still make the best pumpkin pie?” he asked.

“You bet.” Monica felt a warm rush of memories—of Tony spending Thanksgiving that year with her family, the two of them secretly holding their hands under the table when her parents weren’t watching. How he’d smiled at her as they’d taken a walk after dinner, tiny snowflakes falling around them and catching in their hair. How funny to run into him again after all these years! “What about you?” she asked. “Where did you end up?”

“A half-hour west. Moved back a year ago. So we don’t live that far apart.” He cleared his throat again and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’ve never married. Mostly I’ve been focusing on my furniture business.”

She felt a strange thrill at hearing he was single. “I remember how talented you were in wood shop class. I’m not surprised you found a job working with your hands.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “I tried out a few different jobs, but nothing else lasted. I’m most at home in the shop with my tools. Sometimes you figure out all the important stuff as a kid, you know? What you really love, what you want out of life, who really matters to you. You just have to remember.”

He colored then, as if realizing his words could have another meaning. But Monica nodded. “I know just what you mean. Adulthood makes everything seem more complicated, even when it’s not.”

He laughed with relief. “Exactly.”

“I still have that birdhouse you made me,” Monica admitted, blushing a little herself. “I’ve hung it at every place I’ve lived.”

His eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“It’s filled with happy memories.” Feeling embarrassed, like she’d revealed too much, Monica gestured to the counter. “Well, I’d better order a drink. If I don’t get caffeinated this afternoon, I’m going to fall asleep from eating too many turkey leftovers.” She smiled apologetically.

“Of course, I don’t want to hold you up,” Tony said. “It was just great to see you again. Really, really great.” He moved towards the exit. But then he turned around. “Hey, I know you’re visiting family, but what are you doing tonight?”

She laughed. “Probably avoiding shopping.”

He joined her in laughter. “Me too. Do you have any interest in avoiding shopping together? We could have dinner—or maybe take a walk, if it’s not too cold.”

Monica wondered if he was remembering that holiday walk they’d taken all those years ago, too. “I loved to,” she said. “Dinner or a walk. Or both.”

He smiled, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners reminding her that he wasn’t a kid anymore. They were both adults now, and they had a lot of catching up to do.

“Let’s do both,” he said.

Enjoy this short romance? Check out my other stories here!

Happy Halloween! Here’s a short spooky and romantic story about a woman who gets a tea leaf reading on a rainy October night… and then maybe meets the man from the predictions.

Jane wouldn’t normally enter a shop like Delilah’s Magical Emporium of Curiosities. But the rain that October evening was pouring down as she walked home from work, so she ducked into the nearest store to avoid becoming drenched.

As she opened the door, wind chimes overhead announced her arrival. The sound of the storm outside grew muffled as the door fell shut behind her. Inside, the shop was dimly-lit and filled with an almost eerie quiet. Jane blinked as she slowly made out the contents of the store. 

Wooden shelves lining the walls held glass jars, tea canisters, and thick candles. Light came from a few candles lit throughout the store, including one in the window whose flame trembled against the tempest outside. A revolving rack in front of her held dark, flowing garments, and the air was perfumed with incense. A tall man, his back to her, was looking at items on the other side of the shop. On the wall, a clock in the shape of a black cat was ticking down the minutes with its tail.

Jane’s hair was still damp from the rain, and she gave an involuntary shudder, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Can I help you?” said a voice.

Jane looked through the dim haze to see an older woman at the counter, her hair held back in a filmy purple scarf and her wrinkles accentuated by the shadows. A trail of smoke from a burning stick of incense beside her filled the air.

“I–I’m just looking.” Jane smiled weakly.

“Our tea leaf readings are half-off today.” The old woman peered at her, her focus unnerving. “Perhaps you’d like one?” 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Jane glanced out a nearby window to see the rain sliding down the glass in sheets. She didn’t believe in fortune-telling, but she wasn’t ready to leave the dry warmth of the store. She also wanted to be polite. Maybe she should get a tea leaf reading, especially since it was Halloween season. “On second thought, maybe I will.”

“Of course.” The woman smiled, but between the shadowy store and smoke, the effect was half kind, half unsettling. She walked to the back of the store through a curtain of beads. When she returned, she held an electric kettle and small vintage teacup with saucer. After spooning some loose-leaf tea into the cup, she poured hot water over the leaves.

Jane approached the counter as steam rose from the cup alongside the strong scent of mint. She wondered if the man on the other side of the store thought her silly for indulging in such fortune-telling. Or perhaps he’d had his own leaves read before she arrived?

The older woman pushed the teacup towards Jane and nodded once. “Drink.”

Cautiously, Jane picked up the tea, blowing across the hot surface of the water before taking first one sip, then another. Warmth and the taste of mint filled her mouth, alongside a flavor she couldn’t identify. Each drink made her thirsty for more, until she’d nearly emptied the cup.

“Stop.” The tea leaf reader put her hand over Jane’s to bring the cup down. There were only a few drops left, along with a dark cloud of tea leaves. With her hand over Jane’s, the woman swirled the remaining liquid counter-clockwise, then instructed Jane to turn the cup upside down onto the saucer. In the silence that followed, Jane heard the tick of the cat’s tail on the clock near the entrance and wondered what in the world she was doing.

“Do I–”

“Shh.” The older woman tipped the cup back over and peered inside at the pattern of leaves. “Very interesting,” she said in a hushed whisper. “I see many things.”

“Good or bad?” Jane asked.

“Hmm” was the woman’s response.

Jane bit her lip.

Finally, the tea leaf reader said, “I see that a tall, dark, and handsome man may soon enter your life.”

Jane almost laughed–it was like a line out of a movie–until she remembered the man in the store and glanced back. Oddly enough, he was tall and dark. Wasn’t that funny? He was still perusing the shelves on the other side of the store, but as he turned to pick up an object, she caught his handsome profile. Fortunately, he was too far away to hear the older woman’s predictions. 

“The tides are turning,” the tea leaf reader continued, her attention on the cup. “I sense the day after tomorrow, after the full moon, will be a new beginning for you.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “In what sense? What’s going to happen?”

The woman shook her head. “This new man will change your fate. But whether for good or ill…” She shrugged. “The leaves aren’t clear.”

Jane leaned over and glanced at the inside of the cup, as if she could read the leaves any better than the older woman. But all she could see were dark lumps of tea forming incomprehensible patterns on the sides and along the rim. There were very few leaves remaining at the bottom of the cup, actually.

“The bottom of the cup represents the future,” the woman said. “As you can see, yours is quite clear. Open.”

Or nonexistent, Jane thought, suppressing a shudder.

After a few more vague predictions, Jane thanked the woman and paid her. The rain had slowed down, and she made her way towards the exit, casting a glance at the man as she did so. He looked up and their eyes met.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I was wondering if you could help me?”

“Sure.” Jane stopped walking and her heartbeat sped up. He really was handsome. It wasn’t possible that the tea leaf reading was accurate, was it? If so, what would come of it, good or ill?

“I’m trying to find a gift for my niece,” the man said. “She’s 13 and loves this stuff.” He gestured around the store. “But I’m not sure what would be best.”

“Well, what does she like?” Jane asked.

“She likes reading, painting, and drinking different kinds of tea.” He gestured around. “But there are almost too many varieties of tea here to choose from. Oh, and she loves cats.”

“Cats? Then I know the perfect thing.” Jane walked over to the wall where she’d seen the black cat clock earlier. He followed, his heavy footsteps echoing in time with her heartbeat. 

Sure enough, it was for sale. Gently, she removed it from the wall and handed it over to the man, who as she turned was standing quite close to her. As their fingers brushed, Jane felt a shiver dance along her skin. Whether it was attraction or a sense of apprehension, she couldn’t quite say. Maybe it was both. Certainly it felt like both.

“This is perfect,” the man said. “It’s a great idea, and it’s very kind of you to help me, Miss–” 

She paused. “Jane,” she finally said. “You can call me Jane.”

The man was good-looking, and he seemed kind. Only a good man would be so concerned about choosing the right gift for his niece. But Jane had had bad fortune with men, especially good-looking men, and she was wary. The tea leaf reading hadn’t helped.

“Jane,” he said in a deep baritone, and had her name ever sounded so lovely? “I’m Mike.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mike,” Jane said softly. Against her will, she smiled. Was there anything more delightful than the possibility of romance? Or more frightening?

Across the room, the woman at the counter called out to Mike. “Would you like a tea reading? Are you curious about your future?” She’d been watching them behind that omnipresent haze of incense, her eyes glittering.

Mike looked at the woman, then Jane, then the woman again. “Not just now,” he said. “Prophecies make me nervous.”

Jane lowered her voice. “You should’ve heard what she told me.” 

“Really?” He gestured for her to go on.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell,” Jane said. “Maybe then it won’t come true.”

They exchanged a smile.

“I have another question for you, Jane.” Mike fidgeted with the tail on the cat clock, and Jane knew what he was about to ask before the words left his lips, no tea leaves required. A tall, dark, and handsome man may soon enter your life. “Would you have dinner with me? I’m free the night after tomorrow.”

Jane thought of the tea leaf reader’s predictions, her heart filled with both fear and wonder. The day after tomorrow, after the full moon, will be a new beginning for you. But the bottom of the teacup had been empty. It could be amazing or terrible, a year from now or twenty. She would never know.

But this was her life, and she could either drink from the cup offered to her or let it grow cold.

“Yes,” she said. “I’d love to.”

I enjoy writing flash fiction romance, like the five-minute stories I’ve written for Woman’s World magazine. For you movie lovers out there, here’s a tiny romance about Kasey, a divorced woman who goes to watch an action movie on her birthday… and ends up finding romance with the fellow movie buff seated next to her.

“Magic at the Movies”

Kasey wasn’t about to spend her first birthday after the divorce alone. So she bought a ticket at the theater to see the latest action movie. Despite the many flaws her ex claimed she had—she laughed too loud, her taste in music was wrong—moping wasn’t one of them.

Unfortunately, the theater was crowded—crowded with couples. The two seated to her right were even making gooey eyes at each other. She tried to ignore them as she nibbled on some buttery popcorn and waited for the film to start. At least she hadn’t chosen a romance. Sometimes you were in the mood for an action movie, and nothing else would do.

A few minutes before the trailers began, a man squeezed past to sit on her left. He was alone, but he was so good-looking, she figured a wife or girlfriend would show up any minute. He had a strong build and brown eyes the same shade as the overpriced candy bar she’d bought at the concession stand.

“It’s pretty crowded here, huh?”

Kasey was surprised to see the attractive man was speaking to her. “Y-yes, it is.”

He relaxed in his seat and looked around. Then he leaned closer to her. “Is it just me, or are there a lot of couples here?”

Kasey’s breath caught as she detected his subtle, spicy cologne mixed with what smelled like chocolate-covered raisins. She felt light-headed a moment—and also confused. She nodded at the empty seat on his other side. “Oh, I just assumed that you…”

“That I came here with somebody?” The man leaned back and grinned. “Nope. My ex hated action movies. So I’ve been watching all of them to make up for lost time.”

“Mine too,” Kasey said. “Well, he never liked to see them at the theater. But it’s the best way to watch.”

The man’s grin widened. “I completely agree. Sometimes I just get in the mood for an action movie, and I can’t watch anything else.”

Kasey’s eyes grew large. It was like he’d plucked the thoughts from her head. A flutter of possibilities tickled her insides. “I know just what you mean.”

The man reached his hand out. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Kasey.” She shook his hand, enjoying the feel of his smooth, warm skin against hers. “It’s great to meet you.”

The lights dimmed, signaling the trailers would begin. As a hush fell over the audience, Kasey was disappointed; she wanted to keep talking to Sam. But she didn’t want to disturb the other moviegoers, so she focused on the big screen as flashing images and music filled the theater.

The second trailer was for a comedy, and Kasey laughed at a funny line—then clapped a hand over her mouth, self-conscious about the loudness. But Sam leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You have the best laugh.”

Their eyes met, and Kasey smiled, mouthing thank you. She was glad the theater was dim enough that Sam couldn’t see her blushing.

The movie began, and they both became absorbed in the plot. Twice Kasey glanced at Sam, and he looked back at her and smiled. Another time she felt tingles and caught him staring at her. Was it her imagination, or was this particular action flick more exciting and thrilling than any she’d seen before? She couldn’t wait to see what happened next—both with the movie and the man sitting next to her. It wasn’t even a romance, and yet Kasey couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this romantic on her birthday.

But as the movie ended and the credits started rolling, Kasey grew awkward. She could have sworn there was attraction between her and Sam throughout the show, but what if it was all in her imagination? She cast a glance in his direction, but his eyes were fixed on the screen, his expression unreadable. Even if there was attraction, wouldn’t they just go their separate ways now?

People in the theater started standing up, stretching, gathering their purses or empty popcorn bags and heading towards the exit.

Panic stirred in Kasey’s gut. Should she just get up and leave now? She probably should.

She stood.

“Wait.”

A hand touched her arm. She looked down to see it was Sam, his face an appealing mix of brave and vulnerable.

“I was thinking,” he said. “There’s another action movie starting in an hour. What do you say we make this a double-header?”

Her lips parted in surprise. Then she laughed. “Sure.”

He laughed too, his expression relaxing. “You know, I almost didn’t buy a ticket today. But I’m so glad I did. Was it just me, or was that the best movie ever?”

Kasey smiled. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

New release news! I have a short story in the women’s fiction collection A MILLION WAYS: STORIES OF MOTHERHOOD, which just released April 7th. The stories are all about mothers, from a pilot in World War II struggling to bond with her baby to a modern-day stepmom.

My own story, “Everything Left Unsaid,” is particularly important to me because it’s told from the perspective of a mom of a girl with nonverbal autism. (It’s also about grief, deciphering old recipes, and the different ways we express love.)

You can check out the book at your favorite bookstore here! I was also recently on the Author Express podcast talking about the story, alongside sushi burritos, why I’m more productive when I have a mammogram scheduled, and the need to have more characters like my kids appear in fiction.

If you’re looking for a Mother’s Day gift for yourself or a loved one, this is a perfect choice!

I hope you’re all enjoying a cozy autumn. In honor of the season, here is a short story you can read during a few minutes in your day (while you’re waiting for the tea kettle to boil, maybe). I’ve written short fiction for Woman’s World magazine, and I love writing these short romantic scenes.

If you need more to read this month, check out my Halloween romances. (The first book is current free!)

Autumn Leaves

Josie had injured her leg in August, and when fall came, she was still walking around on crutches. At first, the reminder to slow down and rest had been a surprise blessing. But now it was growing frustrating, especially as she watched the autumn leaves pile up in her yard without the ability to rake the colorful foliage into neat piles.

She could have asked someone, but she was stubborn and prided herself on being independent. She always told herself, Next week, your leg will be better.

But then one Saturday morning, she saw a man outside in her yard. A man raking her leaves! 

It took her a minute to recognize him, and then she was even more surprised. It was her new neighbor, the one who’d moved in across the street not two months ago. She knew he lived alone, but other than a few polite nods and waves when they’d seen each other outside—her hobbling to check her mailbox, him sliding a grocery bag out of his car—they hadn’t spoken.

Now, through her window, she studied him. He wore a thick flannel coat, but she could tell by his movements it concealed strong muscles. His dark blond hair was covered by a hat pulled low over his head, making him look almost old-fashioned. She supposed his manners were old-fashioned, too.

She grabbed one of her crutches, opened the front door, and went outside.

“Hello,” she called. “You wouldn’t by any chance be raking my leaves?”

He looked up, pushing the hat back. He had warm hazel eyes, and, upclose, she really liked the look of him. “In fact, I am.”

Her eyes widened. He had a Scottish accent, which didn’t hurt his appeal one bit.

“Do people still do that these days?” she asked. “Do nice things for their neighbors?” 

“I do,” he said. “I don’t know about other people.”

“I’d better bake you a pie, then,” she said, putting a free hand on her hip. “You know, just to be neighborly in return.”

“I guess you’d better.” He smiled and gestured to her leg. “I thought you might appreciate the help, with your injury.”

“It’s very kind of you.” A cool breeze blew, fluttering the leaves and bringing with it the scent of woodsmoke. Josie shivered and pulled her knit cardigan closed. “Would you like to come inside for a hot cup of coffee?”

“I’d love that,” he said. “Let me just finish out here.”

“By all means.” Josie went back inside and started the coffee pot as her new neighbor—her very handsome new neighbor—finished raking.

She was just pouring the coffee into two mugs when he entered. He hung up his coat and hat by the door in a move that seemed so natural, it was like he’d done it every day of his life.

In the kitchen, he took the cup from her and their fingers touched, a feeling of warmth spreading throughout Josie’s body.

“I forgot to ask your name,” she admitted.

“It’s Callum,” he said, his eyes locked on hers as he took a sip. This day was certainly turning out different than she expected.

“It’s nice to meet you, Callum. I’m Josie.” She smiled and shifted her weight, but of course her leg began aching.

At her expression, Callum pulled out a chair for her, and she gratefully took the seat.

“Thank you. Again,” she added.

He shrugged and took the chair opposite hers. “I like to keep busy and be useful.”

“Me too,” she said, picking up her coffee. “But since the injury, I’ve had to depend on others more than I’m used to.” She looked at him over the cup’s rim. “Not that it’s been an entirely unpleasant experience.”

He smiled and they spoke for a few minutes of the neighborhood, the weather, where they were both from. Josie hadn’t met anyone new in quite some time, especially someone she felt this connected to, like Callum was both strangely familiar and exciting.

Soon they had both drank their coffees, and Callum rose to collect their mugs and rinse them. But at her sink, he paused, his broad back to her. When he finally turned around, there was a vulnerable look of hope on his face.

“I told you I like to be useful,” he started. “How about I make us lunch?”

“I’d love that.” She smiled, her insides dancing. “Now I’ll need to bake you two pies, at least.”

As Callum busied himself in her kitchen, Josie watched through her window as more leaves drifted to the ground. Far from making her anxious, as they had before, the autumn sight filled her with the hope of new beginnings.