Page 14 of The Autumn Leaf Bookshop (Everly Hollow #1)

Sooner rather than later

Sylas

S he definitely fills out those jeans. Those hips, thighs…

and that ass. I stopped to stare. I went to make us drinks as soon as she arrived after closing.

When I asked what she wanted to drink, she told me anything, as long as it wasn’t conceived in the fall.

I made her a white chocolate mocha, and I think that was a safe choice.

By doing this for hundreds of years, I don’t even need the recipe book anymore. But I leave it there for decoration. She chose the large armchairs near the fireplace for sitting with end tables beside them.

Standing in front of me, dark hair flowing down her back, an oversized blue sweater that slips off her left shoulder, revealing radiant, deep brown skin. Her back is turned as she pulls a book off the wall to read.

I knew she would text me back, but I didn’t know what her response would be. I’m grateful for the help. I like being around her, but I’m not sure how spending all this time together is going to feel .

After all, she doesn’t seem enthusiastic about the change of the season. I place a mug on her end table and my pumpkin caramel latte on mine. The ceramic hitting the wooden tabletop startles her. She immediately shuts the book.

“Those aren’t for sale.” I smile.

“Sorry.” She quickly tries to reshelve it.

Fuck. I’m off to a bad start.

“Raene, I’m kidding! Well,” my hand passes through my hair and settles on the back of my neck, “they aren’t for sale. They can’t leave the building, but you’re more than welcome to read it.”

She brings the book back towards her, holding it to her chest as if it's precious and it is. These beautiful leather books, where she is standing, talk of our history here at Everly Hollow.

“Come on over here and bring it with you,” I wave her over. “I wanted to show them to you tonight anyway.”

It’s a good thing she picked the first volume.

She hands me the book and sits down in her chair, grabbing a small notebook and pen from her bag.

Her body relaxes in the seat, getting comfortable before grabbing her mug, taking a sip, and licking the whipped cream from the top of her lip.

Of course, my eyes track the movement. Every time I’m around her, my senses are in overdrive, especially the scent of her.

“You make a great mocha.” She smiles, lifting the mug as a toast. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Juggle,” I say.

She laughs, shaking her head slightly as she sits her mug down.

“I’m joking, I’m a great juggler.” I wink .

“Before we start,” she says, eyes darting to the fire. “I’m sorry about the town hall. For how I acted?”

Her eyes meet mine again. “I really don’t want to let my grandmother down, and the whole town hates her because I said no. She’s also healing, and I don’t want her to stress. Her body doesn’t need that when recovering.”

I nod my head.

“But when I say I don’t do fall, I really mean it. I don’t do fall.”

“Noted.” I give her a stern nod to show her I mean it.

“So there are seven goddesses?” She leans forward into the arm of the chair, her hands holding her second drink of the evening, this one a caramel macchiato.

I nod my head. I briefly went over the town, some history, and now I’ve named all the goddesses.

“Ruskaya is our Goddess of Autumn. She represents harvest, abundance, comfort, hearth & change.”

Leaning back, my fingers wrap loosely around the warm mug, my eyes watching the movement of the crackling fire.

“Most people outside of Everly Hollow have never heard of her, but she is woven into everything here. The trees, our fall traditions and even the shift of the wind and change of the leaves when September comes.”

Raene listens, only pausing to sip from her mug. The steam wafting above the liquid .

“It is said that the seven divine Goddesses were born from the breath and light of the stars. Ruskaya was known as the Goddess of endings that also felt like beginnings. She helped people change and grow, reminding them that there is beauty in all things, even after they end.”

“I like that, but if I didn’t participate,” she says with a sly smile. “Will we need to spread pumpkin spice fig jam above every doorway, before locusts come for the pumpkin patch and everyone starts running around saying, ‘Oh my Gourd?’”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

She sits up straight in her seat and on her chest. “Oh shit, am I going to be smited?”

“No, you’re not going to get punished if you change your mind about not helping with the festival.”

I close the book, looking at her. She just sits there watching me, the tension leaving her shoulders and relaxing. “I really could use the help. I need fresh ideas, I want to make it something more memorable and fun.”

Pen tapping her notepad, her eyes dart upward as she thinks. Her eyes catch on to Nim on a low branch of the tree. He’s sprawled on his back, his paws bent over the golden scales of his underbelly. He is adorable when he isn’t talking.

She asked me earlier how old he was, and I told her I wasn’t sure of how old his egg was when I was gifted him on my third birthday. But Nim and I have been pretty inseparable ever since.

“So what do you already do, and let’s work with that. Build up on some ideas?” she asks, clicking her pen .

I grab my notebook and pen from the side table and open it up. “Well, typically we start with a fall feast on day one.”

She begins to write it down, but then strikes through it. “How about we make the feast last?”

Starting to chime in, she holds up her hand. I gesture to her. She has the floor.

“I think a feast at the beginning is too much. It seems too final. Plus a lot of good eating. Then there is still food, I’m assuming at the booths that are held right?”

I nod my head and smile. Her voice is tinged with a dash of excitement, and it's fucking cute.

“Let’s move it to the last day of the festival.

You said it lasts seven days, so we will have a big feast on the last day.

We can have music, lights, and a lot of tables and seating, maybe potluck style.

We can ask the bakeries for desserts that we can purchase, and maybe a few that they would like to donate?

" She writes all this down and then glances up at me.

“What do you think?” She shrugs, her eyes giving me a deadpan stare, because truly she doesn’t care. Does she?

“I think that you’re enjoying this.” I give her a wicked grin, and she shifts her hips in her seat.

“No, I’m not,” she says, wrenching her eyes from me until they land on her mug.

“The drinks here are fabulous. Perfectly hot.” She takes a long sip, and hums, licking those lips again .

“And the company is fine, I guess,” she sighs, but a sly smile dances on her lips. “This reminds me of writing. When you’re brainstorming new ideas. It’s fun. Fall, not so much fun.”

“Okay, so let’s say we move the feast to the last day.” I edge closer in my seat, notebook in hand. “What do we do on day one?”

She rests her chin on her hand, fingers tapping a slow rhythm on her cheeks. She looks around the shop as if inspiration will spread its wings and fly right for her. She eyes Nim again.

“I like kites,” she says out loud, her eyes never losing focus on him.

Was this an inner thought that somehow escaped? That was random.

“I like kites, too?” I chuckle, curious to see where she is going with this.

She rolls her eyes playfully. “What I meant was, I like kites. Of course, they’re only reserved for the best season ever.

” Her wink catches me off guard, but I still can’t pull my eyes away from that pretty mouth of hers.

“But this is the Fall Festival,” she finishes.

A playful glint dances in her eyes. “How do you feel about opening with a lantern parade?”

A lantern parade? That’s not a bad idea.

It would be magical. Those attending would have something new and different.

We can supply the lanterns, decorations, and tables with benches so everyone can participate.

I can enchant the paper so that once a flame is added, they will float until the flame extinguishes, then the lantern will fade away like a dusting of gold sugar .

“It could be a night event,” she continues, scribbling it all down. “So we don’t have to rush into anything during the day. Just let people arrive, decorate a lantern individually or as a family, enjoy the booths of food and trinkets for sale. Then, as the sun sets, we kick things off.”

“I like it. See what you did there?” I lift my mug toward her in a mock-toast. “You’re bringing your love of summer into fall.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Ash?” She shrugs, lifting her mug and taking a long, satisfying drink. Her lids flutter closed for a moment.

Ash ? Did she just nickname me? No one has shortened my last name and called me by it.

A flicker of something stirs in my chest. Warm and unexpected. It sounds intimate coming from her lips. Like, I’m deeply familiar with her when I shouldn’t be. Yet.

My mug hovers near my mouth, but I don’t drink. I watch her over the rim, trying to decide what the hell that nickname just did to me.

I hope she says it again.

We’re both looking over our notes after another two hours of discussion. I’m four deep into another festive pumpkin drink.

Raene snorted when she eyed the third mug as she sipped from her bottle of water. She said too much sugar would keep her awake at night .

“So.” She clears her throat. “The festival is for seven days starting on the first day of fall.”

I nod my head.

“Which this year, it is September twenty-second.”

“Yes, and planning typically starts now.”

“Of course you do,” she barely mumbles under her breath, not realizing I can hear her.

“What was that?” I ask, my head tilting slightly to the side.

She ignores me but her lips curve into a small smile. “So we start with the Autumn Lights and Lantern Parade on the first day,” she says, circling it on her paper before glancing up, looking for my approval.

“Yes.”