Page 11 of The Autumn Leaf Bookshop (Everly Hollow #1)
The cable knit sweater? Gone, dropped on the tiled floor. Good. That’s where it belongs. Fuck you, sweater. No one likes you anyway. His shirt follows. Oh my fae…
Then, his belt falls to the floor with a soft clink , and my breath hitches.
The music in the air shifts. It’s deeper, more sultry now, like it’s taken a reading of my throbbing core and racing heartbeat. The bath itself is tuned into the horny fuckery that’s curling through my limbs and flowing through my veins.
Sylas stands at the edge of the tub, running his hands through those loose, rich red curls, looking as good as a wet dream if I ever had one. The steam curls around him, and I keep my eyes wide because I’m afraid that if I blink, he’ll disappear.
His eyes, those autumn-gold eyes, lock on mine. My gaze trails down his sculpted chest, his arms. His fingers slowly unzip his pants. And then…those, too, fall.
Oh, my…
This has to be a dream. A very vivid, enchanted, goddess-blessed dream here in this town .
Maybe I’ll start praying to them.
He steps into the tub slowly, water shifting with his weight. It rolls over the edge in soft waves. I can’t even hear it hit the ground. All I hear is the music and see him. A shiver ripples through me that has nothing to do with the water. He’s coming to me, and my legs part. Yes…crawl to me.
Did this tub get bigger?
“Raene, are you blushing?” He asks in a husky growl, voice like velvet. “Is it the water, or is it me?”
He’s right there. My hands are digging into the sides of the tub for purchase.
“Both,” I whisper breathlessly without thinking.
He leans in, his mouth nips on my earlobe, and I release a whimper. “You should know,” he rumbles, pressing a kiss to my collarbone. I sigh.
“In dreams like this, I can do anything…” His hand slides up my thigh, just beneath the surface. I can feel the pressure of it as his fangs gently graze my neck, making me shudder.
He meets my eyes, and right before his mouth meets my lips…
“Raene, baby?” Grandma’s voice cuts in like a record scratch.
NO.
“After your bath, can you give me my grabber device?”
I bolt upright, nearly sending another wave over the edge of the tub. I’m alone. Just bubbles and heat. No more music. No more wet, and very sexy Sylas. A very loud what the hell is echoing through my brain .
Head tipping back with a groan against the tub, I sigh into the steamy air. “Everly Hollow, save me.”
The vision of dreamy Sylas vanishes like mist. But the heat he left behind? That’s still very real.
The soup is simmering on the stove. It smells comforting and nostalgic. With Grandma fresh out of surgery, I wanted something light, and chicken noodle felt like the safest bet. The savory aroma of slow-simmered broth, tender carrots, celery, onions, and shredded chicken fills the kitchen.
Before we eat, I help Grandma with her compression stockings and escort her to the bathroom with her walker, even though she insists she’s perfectly capable on her own.
I gently ignore her and help her anyway.
I’m grateful she decided to take the bedroom on the bottom floor and make the guest room up the small flight of stairs when she bought this cottage.
Taking our seats, we help ourselves to the hearty soup and bread.
“The soup is delicious, Raene.” She smiles, after helping herself to another spoonful.
“I learned from the best,” I say, adding softened
butter to the bread and taking a well-deserved bite.
“So I have just one.” She holds up her hand, holding two fingers close together to show how little she’s indicating, “one small favor to ask you. ”
I’m curious as to what she needs now and if that something is fall-oriented. Do we have to decorate the backyard? I’m not sure how much more fall I can take. I mean, I just had some sort of tonic-drug-induced fever dream in the bathroom.
“This upcoming Wednesday is the town hall meeting,” she says, her voice all sweet and innocent. “I’m supposed to attend. Would you be a dear and go for me?”
I set my spoon down. “Can’t someone record it? What about ZOOM? Is that a thing here?”
“I just need you to take notes and take my place.”
I thought about it. Tore off a piece of bread and popped it in my mouth, chewing slowly.
“Just notes, right? Will it be enough notes that make it worth my being there, or just enough notes where it could have been an email or posted on the town hall bulletin in a drafty hallway?”
She tilts her head to the side, chewing on the thought, slowly takes a spoonful of her soup into her mouth. “Just the right amount of notes that I need you to take.”
“And?” I ask, stirring my spoon into lazy circles in the broth. “Is the whole town going to be there?”
“Only the important ones.” Her head nods matter-of-factly.
I sigh.
Okay, that’s good then. Sylas shouldn’t be there.
He’s not important. He can’t be the mayor or anything, right?
He just owns the bookstore. A beautiful, enchanted bookstore with a tiny dragon and a magical tree inside it.
I highly doubt he’ll be there, which is good.
Really good. Because seeing him again, in public , knowing what I saw in that tub?
Yeah, that would be just a little awkward.
Let’s just hope he’s got better things to do than show up at a boring old town hall meeting.