Page 20 of The Autumn Leaf Bookshop (Everly Hollow #1)

I should have let him kiss me

Raene

“ S o how is the planning going?” Oriana asks, flips her long blue hair over her shoulder.

She’s wearing a black sweater and hip-hugging blue jeans, accentuating her curves, with black boots. I really need to ask her where she got the outfit from. Her sparkly blue nails tap her mug gently as a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “You know, with Ash?”

I sigh, already feeling heat creeping into my cheeks even if a blush will never show. I knew I would be teased. That’s what new friends did, right? Teasing was a sign of acceptance. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

I love being here with them on the days in between seeing Ash. This is starting to be our hangout, and it was perfect because new friends plus sweet treats and amazing coffee, it doesn’t get better than that.

“Sylas is a sweetie,” Jas chimes in, her voice warm, as he sets two plates with an iced lemon sweet roll on the table in front of each of us .

Ensuring there is frosting on the end of the soft, fluffy roll, I tear off a piece, gently placing it on my tongue. It’s delicious. Tangy lemon, fluffy, and the sweet aroma is amazing.

“Mm-hmm,” Oriana hums, bringing the mug to her lips with a slowness that would make anyone draw their attention to her. Her eyes flick up at me over the rim, and I can see the grin she’s holding back. “and he’s single.”

“Oh, is he?” I ask, rolling my eyes playfully. My stomach does a traitorous little flip.

I hope he is single, especially when four days ago, he looked at me and held my face like he wanted to kiss me. I wanted to so badly.

My body pressed against his, feeling him against me, my nails digging into his shoulder, and wanting him to kiss me. I want my tongue to taste him and run along those fangs.

“Don’t play coy,” Jas teases, sliding into the free seat next to me and leaning forward on her elbows.

“You two have been spending a lot of time together. Planning festivals, making lists…oh, the romance of it all. I miss the dating stage.” She props her chin on her hand and gazes dreamily at the ceiling.

I chew on a piece of the fluffy pastry and snort. “We are not dating.”

“Nothing says romance like checklists and frolicking in leaves,” Oriana says, chewing slowly, then sucking the icing off her thumb.

It’s been…what, a little over a year? Probably more since I’ve had sex worth remembering.

My fictional characters have had more sex than I’ve had lately.

The female main character in my last book go t laid twice in one chapter.

Twice. Me? I’m over here getting flustered because Sylas smiled at me while looking at pillows.

I’m pathetic. And don’t even get me started on that ladder moment.

I should have let him kiss me. Hell, I should have grabbed him by the suspenders and kissed him like my life depended on it.

He could’ve had me pressed against those rungs, my legs wrapped around his waist, his hands moving from my waist to my ass.

I felt him, his hardness, against my belly when he caught me and held me close, and it had my core aching in a way that made me want to throw the little bit of common sense my brain was trying to hang on to out of the window.

Oriana catches me zoning out and smirks. “You’re thinking about him right now, aren’t you? Those golden eyes? All that muscle? Just…everything?”

I throw a balled-up napkin at her, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

She responds with her melodic laugh, flicking it out of the way before it hits her square in the forehead. She smiles, taking another sip of her latte. “Anyone and everyone would notice a fae male like Sylas, your Ash.”

My Ash?

“Aren’t you engaged?” Jas teases, elbowing Oriana gently.

Oriana crosses her legs, leaning back. “Happily. But that doesn’t mean I won’t notice an attractive male and woman when they’re together.”

She quickly uncrosses her legs and leans forward. “Seriously, Raene, you’re gorgeous and he is…so… ”

I laugh, finishing the rest of my roll.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingles, and Elora strolls in with her usual mix of grace and shyness.

Jas welcomes her and walks her to the front.

Her braid sways down her back, small leaves decorating it whimsically for the season. She steps up to the counter, and in no time, she’s picking up a drink carrier loaded with three cups and a bag of pastries.

“Hey, ladies,” she says with a bright smile, her skirt swaying as she turns, stopping at our table. “See you next Friday?”

I blink. “Wait, what’s happening next Friday?”

“Girl’s night,” Oriana says with a tantalizing smile, her eyebrows jumping up and down. “On her farm, the main house, around six that evening. Don’t make us drag you there.”

“Yeah, come hang out,” Jas adds. “It’ll be good for you. Wine, food, and probably embarrassing stories. My mother-in-law is going to watch Seren for me, and I could use a girl’s night before the school year starts again.”

“Okay,” I say with a nod, my lips curving into a smile. “I’ll check on my grandmother first, but I’d love to be there.”

“Perfect.” Elora gives us a quick wave and heads out with her items. It’s a cute view through the cafe window, of her dog’s head sticking out the passenger window, tongue lolled out, as she loads her things into her truck, giving the dog a quick scratch behind the ear as she eases out of the lot to leave .

Jas leans back in her chair, watching Elora leave. “She’s probably meeting her parents. As an only child, they’re super close-knit,” she tells me.

Protective parents of a young adult. Got it.

Oriana taps her nails on her mug again. Her smile gets pretty fucking wicked when she’s conspiring.

I wonder if she lured Malik in this way or with her siren song. The thought makes me hold back a laugh.

“Speaking of close-knit,” she pulls her hand from the mug, examining her nails, “why, you and Ash are two patches on a quilt. When are you seeing him again?”

I chew on my lip, cross my ankles, and uncross them before admitting. “Tonight. We’re meeting at the Four Lanterns to go over drink ideas for one of the festival events.”

“Ohhh, I like that,” Oriana drags the word out with a knowing grin. “Perfect excuse to sit across from him or side by side, you know, share body heat while pretending to talk about cocktails. You’ll both be tipsy before the menu’s even finalized.”

“Stop,” I say, chuckling.

My mind is beginning to question if she is right.

“Besides, my younger cousin Hannah will be there; she’s part siren. She can create whatever drink you want, or just tell her the vibe you're going for, and she will concoct something magical. She’s training under Malik so she can open her first bar in the city.”

I laugh nervously, though a tingle of curiosity lingers. Magical drinks and a siren bartender? “As in… like singing enchantments into her drinks? ”

“I do the same with my candles, and yes, you need to stop by sometime. I’ll give you a free sample, but seriously, wait until you try her signature drink, A Twilight’s Kiss ,” Oriana says with a knowing smile. “Sometimes she’ll ask what you’re feeling, and the drink will answer. ”

Jas waggles her brows. “Careful, Rae. That’s the kind of drink that leads to bad decisions…or some really, really good ones.”

I nearly choke on my coffee. First, Jas calling me Rae is adorable, but the way she’s teasing? With all the romance books she’s been reading, mine included, she’s been single long enough that she’s starting to daydream through my characters, and I get it.

I would miss companionship, too. Love always looks so shiny and sparkly from the outside. It sucks you in, and you gravitate towards it, unable to hold yourself back to protect and shield your heart from the full blow of it all.

I can’t help but wonder if she’s quietly thinking about dipping her toe back into the dating pool.

Then again, maybe I should think about that too? Maybe.

I sip my coffee, trying not to smile too hard. But I can’t help thinking about Sylas, his warm hands, his golden eyes, and wondering what kind of trouble a siren-crafted drink might stir up between us.

I’m craving pasta. So, I do what any normal person would do when they’re craving pasta: I make it.

I could order it, but I don’t even know the nearest restaurant that delivers.

Besides, cooking helps quiet the conversation in my head.

The one from the café that’s been playing on repeat like a scratched record.

If I keep my hands busy, maybe I won’t think about Ash’s hands…on me—touching, kneading, or moving inside me. I shake my head, freeing my head from the sudden detour of thoughts, hoping it’ll go down the other fork of the road, because nope. I will not go there. Not right now.

I grab a wicker serving tray so Grandma can rest easy and not have to move too much. She’s been doing great with her continued physical therapy sessions, but she’s earned a lazy afternoon.

She’s been sitting on the patio, tucked under the umbrella, reading for almost an hour. Now and then, she gets up to stretch. It’s such a beautiful day, so why not eat outside and enjoy the view?

I load up our plates with pasta. We had some Cajun Andouille sausage left over, so I sliced it, sautéed it with onions, garlic, and green bell pepper, and stirred it into a jar of alfredo sauce with fettuccine.

Simple, easy, and so damn good. I add a side of oven-baked garlic bread, the cheesy store-bought kind that makes my soul happy because butter .

Then set two glasses of sweet tea on the tray, our forks, and a few napkins, and slide the patio door open.

“Lunch is served,” I say with a grin, setting her plate in front of her and taking a seat.

“You spoil me,” she says, slipping her bookmark into her mystery novel and setting it aside .

“How’s your book?” I ask, stabbing a piece of sausage before twirling noodles around my fork.

“It’s good. I think the gardener did it.”

I laugh at her assumption, reaching for my garlic bread, because she is pretty spot on with these mystery books. We eat quietly for a few moments, light chatter, and just enjoy the warm weather.

“So,” she says, glancing at me over the rim of her glass. “How is the planning going? The Fall Festival will be here before you know it, and then you’ll be off to the city again, writing your next bestseller.”

She’s smiling, but it doesn’t fully reach her eyes. I know she’s sad I’ll be leaving right after the festival. Maybe I can make more plans to visit more often. Right?

“It’s going pretty good,” I say, shrugging. “I like the planning aspect of it all. The season, though? Still a hard pass.”

A contented hum releases from her throat as she sips her tea. “When are you meeting Sylas next? What’s on the agenda?”

I finish chewing and wipe my buttery hands on a napkin. “We’re meeting this evening at Four Lanterns to finalize the drink menu for the tent event. I made extra pasta, so we have more than enough for dinner tonight and leftovers for our lunch tomorrow.”

“Much appreciated, my dear. But don’t worry about me. I can hold my own.”

She gives me that sly grandmotherly smile that knows way too much. “I want you to have fun. Enjoy yourself. Sylas is a nice fellow and very handsome.”

I shoot her a deadpan look. “He’s older than you, Grandma.”

Maybe he’s one hundred and twelve?

“Well, age is nothing but a number,” she says with a grin that tells me she’s enjoying this way too much.