Page 22 of The Autumn Leaf Bookshop (Everly Hollow #1)

I want you to burn me

Raene

I ’m fully clothed, yet I swear I have hay in places hay shouldn’t be. I settled on a t-shirt, leggings, and my sneakers because comfort and mobility are non-negotiable for decorating today.

The countdown to fall officially begins with September first, now blessing us with its presence. The leaves are already flirting with shades of gold, and honestly, the cool breeze feels amazing against my skin after all the work we’ve been putting in.

Sylas’ part-time help is coming later this afternoon, but he’s been popping out here and there, just enough to nod his approval, tell me exactly where decor should go, and insisting that anything involving a ladder is his job.

I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to fall again…

I wouldn’t mind falling into his arms once more, and this time not resisting.

He looks good today, too, in that constant way he doesn’t even notice. A light blue short-sleeve shirt, worn jeans, and black boots. It’s a little out of his usual fall comfort zone, but damn.

It’s sexy seeing his arms on full display…and it’s distracting. Really distracting .

I’m arranging a cluster of fake and real pumpkins along the stoops of some of the shops around the town square, stepping back every so often to see if they look just right. The colors are blue, orange, and some of the pumpkins are white.

I’m bent over, debating the angle of a white pumpkin, when I hear a voice.

“All hail, the princess of fall who has come to greet us with her presence.”

I laugh and roll my eyes before straightening and turning around. “Hello, Oriana.”

“Rae.” She smiles, handing me a bottle of water that I happily accept and chug half the bottle.

“Thanks,” I say, replacing the cap. I can’t help but think Oriana could walk around in a garbage bag and still make it look chic and runway-ready.

“It’s lovely so far,” she says, looking around.

“You’re coming with me,” she says in a tone that leaves little room for argument, so I don’t say anything. “You’ve been out here for hours, you need a break.”

I sigh, but I’m already tempted. “A break does sound good…”

She links her arm through mine, leading me toward her candle shop, The Siren’s Flame. The moment we step inside, I’m hit with a wave of warmth, invigorating scents that take hold of one another, humming and dancing to the magic.

“Hi, Raene!” Corra darts quickly over to me from the other side of the shop before moving along. Her shimmery form of seafoam darts from one shelf to the next, her wings fluttering at a rapid speed, tiny pumpkins and fall leaves decorating the shelves.

“Hey, Corra!” My eyes try to catch the movement as she zips by in a blur of seafoam blues and greens, wings glittering like stardust. She moves so fast it’s like she’s trying to decorate every corner and shelf of the shop at once.

“Doesn’t it look amazing?” Oriana says, her turquoise eyes glistening as she holds her hands to her heart in awe.

She pulls me toward a row of glowing candles, each one with a handwritten label. “I just finished pouring a new scent this morning, Pumpkin Ember. You have to smell it.”

“I’m not a fan of pumpkin, but I have a feeling you’re going to try to persuade me.” The corners of my mouth tilt upward.

“Facts.” She laughs, handing me a candle in an amber colored jar.

She lights it, then steps back, gently folding her arms as she whispers to me, “Listen.”

I cast my eyes downward, taking in the flickering flame, the pool of wax beginning to grow around the wick. Soft music begins to rise, a melody both sweet and aching, and then a voice, beautiful and otherworldly, spills into my ears.

It’s so moving, so unshakably pure, that I glance up at Oriana with a smile, a tear already sliding down my cheek.

“Do you hear it too?” I ask her softly. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Why, thank you,” she says with gleaming eyes, pulling me into a quick hug before leaning down to gently blow out the candle .

“That is my voice. My siren song. But I can’t hear it, it’s my magic. It will sing to you, to your soul. Only you can hear it.”

“What does it mean? The song?” I ask, my eyes fixed on the melted wax as it cools and hardens into stillness.

“Only you know.”

After I finished my visit with Oriana, I set my candle, a gift from Oriana, gently in the passenger seat of my car. I lingered there for a moment, staring at it a little too long, wondering what the song truly meant. It stirred something inside me I can’t even put into words.

Powerful, beautiful, yet so heavy. It made me feel… everything all at once. It’s no wonder I found myself crying, but it wasn’t sadness at all. Just this beautiful, overwhelming feeling.

Ash steps down from the ladder, the metal clinking softly under his boots, and lifts it in his arms, his biceps flexing in a way that makes a bit of drool threaten to pool in the corner of my mouth.

I snap my gaze back up before he catches me staring and follows him to the next spot, festive, fall-themed wreaths clutched in my hands.

“It’s looking pretty good,” I say, glancing around at the town square.

People pause to admire the decor, snapping photos. A few glance my way and wave, knowingly. Parents chasing after their kids into the toy shop or stepping out of their cars to browse the storefronts. The whole place hums with that early fall energy, warm and buzzing.

Ash made us sandwiches for lunch earlier, carrying them down from his apartment with that easy grin of his. And now, with the perks of being the boss, as soon as Cian left for the day, he closed up an hour early, just for us to get this done and get it crossed off our never-ending list.

“So, you like what you see?” He says, rooting me back to the present. He gives me a cocky smirk as he holds out his hand to take the wreath from me.

I blink, caught in the act of staring at him again.

Like what I see? Oh, if you only knew.

“You wish,” I say, handing him the wreath. My voice sounds too playful, like I’m covering for something, and I know this male can read me like a damn book.

“Oh, I know,” he replies, that smirk growing as he steps closer to grab the wreath from my hands. His fingers brush mine, slow enough that I feel it up my arm.

I cross my arms, trying to look unaffected.

Is it working?

“You’re confident for someone who just spent ten minutes arguing with me about pumpkin placement due to the various colors.”

“You know I was right about the pumpkins,” Ash says, flashing that wicked grin that shows all his teeth.

The fangs .

He hooks the wreath underneath the lantern on the street post. With the wave of his hand, the wreath gives off a faint luminescent glow. Then grows larger and turns more realistic.

His head tilts to the side as if one of those things weren’t supposed to happen, but he shrugs it off. “Besides, I saw you staring. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“I wasn’t staring.” I wipe my palms on my leggings because I feel like I’m beginning to overheat. “I was…supervising, I have to make sure you don’t fall.”

“Supervising, huh?” He looks at me, eyes glinting in the late afternoon light as he makes his way down the ladder. His eyes narrow, but there is a playful smirk on his face.

“Do you have a professional opinion on my…technique?”

I twist my lips and wriggle my nose, which is a terrible idea because his gaze drops right to my mouth. Stop it. Right now, Raene.

“Your technique is…adequate.” My voice cracks, betraying me.

“Adequate?” He leans just a fraction closer.

“You wound me, Raene,” he purrs. I’ll just have to try harder to impress you then.”

Once we finish the last wreath, Ash dusts his hands off and grabs the ladder, and I fall into step behind him. “Viktor will pick that up later,” he says, leaning it against the wall near his shop. “No point in hauling it back just yet.”

“Got it,” I say, dusting my hands off.

“Can you help me carry the totes back into the bookstore?” He asks. “I’ll take them to the barn tomorrow.”

“Of course,” I reply, lifting one of the lighter bins.

We walk side by side, and the air between us begins to feel charged, like a live wire ready to snap.

Once all the totes are in the shop, I help him stack them off to the side near the front entrance. He sets his tote down and reaches for a folded piece of paper on the counter.

“This is what’s next,” he says, handing it to me. “It’s a list of people we need to talk to about the markets and food booths, vendors, too. I made each of us a list. That way, we can tackle it head-on, together, and get it done faster.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking the paper. “I’ll get this handled.” Tucking it carefully into my bag, as it rests on the table.

“And…thanks for lunch,” I add, giving him a small smile. “You didn’t have to make me a sandwich, but you did anyway. I appreciate that.”

He tucks his hands into his pockets. “You’re welcome. You’re helping me a lot. A seven-day event like this…well, the least I can do is feed you.”

I laugh, but it comes out wrong. As if my nerves have me in a chokehold. What is it about goodbyes? I turn toward the door, adjusting my bag on my shoulder. “I guess I should get going…bye, Ash.”

I’m almost at the door. My hand reaches for the doorknob as he quickly stops me. My purse hits the ground, and he spins me .

My back presses against the doorframe. I wasn’t expecting that. I look up at him. He towers over me, but fuck, it’s in a good way.

“Are you going to let me leave?” I joke, my voice soft, breathless.

His gaze drops to my lips, lingering there, and suddenly my joke feels like it’s dissolving in the heat between us. His hand stays braced on the frame near my head, the other brushing my hip, slow and possessive, like he’s testing how far he can go. How far will I let him?

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” he murmurs.

My heart stutters, and I don’t know if it’s from the words or the way his voice dips even lower, it’s smooth like silk and heat all at once. “Ash…”