Page 8 of The Autumn Leaf Bookshop (Everly Hollow #1)
Sliding my hand up further under his chin, I gently stroke with my fingertips.
Nim surprisingly leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering close.
He releases a sigh and a soft purr like a cat basking in the sun on a bay window.
I give Nim one last affectionate scratch under the chin, his little purr still rumbling in the air, before reluctantly turning back toward the counter.
As much as I’d like to spend the rest of the day petting a magical tea-loving dragon, I do still need to buy my books, get Grandma’s order, and run a few more errands.
Sylas is already sliding the novels I picked into the tote bag beside her order. “Can I ask you something?”
Honestly, he could ask anything, and I’m not sure how anyone would say no with those golden eyes and that voice. It’s kind, low, and just shy of nervous right now.
“Sure,” I say casually, waving my hand through the air as I lean into the counter. “Ask away.”
He hesitates, “I’d love it if you could sign a few of your books while you’re here. If you don’t mind, I mean.”
My mouth quirks into a surprised smile. “I’d be honored,” I say. I’m off duty, but I don’t mind signing a few books for fans. “Do you have a pen?”
He grabs one from a wooden holder on the counter next to all the other trinkets. Of course, it’s fall-themed with leaves and the wording “I love fall most of all” printed in calligraphy, screaming at me .
“You can keep it.” He gives me a wink.
I let out an awkward laugh. “Ahh ha ha ha hmm…thanks.”
I quickly tap my card on the e-reader, tucking it back into my wallet before heading back toward the romance section, the scent of pumpkin spice wrapping around me in a hug I can’t quite shake.
I grab a stack of books and make my way to a comfy, deep blue armchair tucked in the corner with a burnt orange blanket resting across the back. Settling in, I open the first book, beginning to sign my name on the title pages, adding a heart at the end.
From here, I catch sight of Nim at Sylas’ feet, his tail swishing back and forth in impatient little flicks as he waits for his tea.
A heaping pile of whipped cream is finally added to his bowl, then set aside so other patrons can still reach the counter for their warm drinks.
The rustling of papers and low conversation blend in with the low hum of music playing softly in the background.
After signing the last book, I tucked them back onto the shelves, a small smile lingering on my face. I wish I could sign them all, but errands are calling, and Grandma’s surgery is tomorrow.
I catch myself watching Sylas at the counter, checking out customers, and addressing them by name. His voice is warm, and he’s patient with everyone, grinning in his natural element.
He doesn’t miss a beat when Nim chirps or lets out a low growl from his perch on top of one of the high bookshelves.
They communicate with a glance, like it’s second nature.
I can’t hear their conversation, but to mentally talk with a dragon would be amazing.
I’m not sure about him hearing my thoughts, though.
But when Sylas’ golden eyes lift and find me across the room, something shifts. His gaze softens, turns warmer, like I’m the only person in the shop worth noticing.
Once the counter is clear, I make my way over. I love the pink that flushes to his cheeks as he sees me make my way closer, and damn it’s adorable.
“Thanks again for signing those books. I really appreciate it. I have signed edition stickers I can put on the ones you signed. ”
“Great, and no problem. I signed fifteen of them.” I place the pen back in the wooden holder.
He nods his head, removing the elastic band from his hair, and runs his hands through it. I’m struck with the ridiculous urge to run my hands through the silk strands.
I need to get the hell out of here.
“I should head out,” I say, clearing my throat. “I need to go to the grocery store for my grandmother, but it was nice meeting you.”
“It was great to meet you, Raene.” His voice is deep and drops to a soft tone. “I hope to see you around.”
There’s a pause. Just a breath too long.
His golden eyes linger on mine, something quiet but undeniable passing between us.
I smile, slow and reckless. “I’m sure you will.”
As I lift the tote off the counter and turn away, I feel his gaze follow me all the way to the door. And I don’t dare look back.
I take a bite of the strawberry licorice from the open package sitting by my purse in the front of the cart, the sweet, chewy bite making the grocery run feel just a little less tedious.
Pushing my way down the chip aisle, I scan the shelves, already mentally tallying what’s in my cart so far: some meat, chicken stock, noodles, eggs, bread, fresh fruit—apples, blueberries, strawberries, and grapefruit and plenty of veggies for salads—spring salad mix, tomatoes, cucumbers, celery, carrots. The responsible stuff.
Now for the good stuff.
I toss a couple of bags of chips into the cart, grab some trail mix, ice cream, and wine, and add a few more snacks for good measure.
I roll my cart up to one of the two open registers and begin loading up the conveyor belt. The tall, willowy elf working the lane greets me with a warm, slightly nervous smile. He wears a light blue shirt with jeans, has creamy ivory skin, chestnut brown curls, and softly pointed ears.
“Afternoon,” he says, his voice calm and cool like a breeze. His name tag reads Thale .
“Stocking up for the weekend?” He asks, scanning the items.
I glance at the mountain of food moving down the belt, being scanned and bagged. “Something like that,” I respond with a faint smile.
He gently lifts the fruit to scan, careful not to bruise the fruit before placing it in bags. “The churro ice cream is my favorite,” he says, nodding at the half-gallon. “Especially after a long day.”
“Grocery runs aren’t exactly my favorite thing, but this seemed like the perfect reward.” I place the open bag of licorice on the belt with a shrug, pushing the cart forward. “ I wasn’t feeling all the fall flavors, so this sounded like something worth a try.”
Thale smiles, a sparkle lighting his pale blue eyes. “I get that…autumn's a bit much around here. ”
He gestures vaguely at the hay bales and pumpkin displays overtaking every end cap. “It has its quiet moments too. Like warm apple pie on a late afternoon or reading by the fire.”
He scans a bottle of wine, slipping it carefully into a paper sleeve. “Or enjoying a glass of wine on the porch while the leaves fall.”
I huff a laugh, holding my hands up in mock surrender. “Whoa now, don’t start selling me on fall.”
He chuckles, telling me my total, rounds the register, and places the bags side by side in my cart.
I tap my card, and once the receipt prints, he tears it off and hands it to me with a small smile.
“Take care, and may this weekend be kind to you.
I pause at that, noting the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. I really appreciate that,” I say softly.
I make my way to my car, loading the trunk with groceries before pushing the cart to the small cart return area. I am blown away by everyone I met today. Maybe being in this small town won’t be so bad after all.