When witch Bella's visions of blood and horror reveal a dark secret in her coven's past, she is torn between saving those who have scorned her and sacrificing the enticing werewolf who accepts her.
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As a descendent of the cursed Black family, Be...
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I'm arranging the latest romance paperbacks into neat piles on the table under the window. Each pile forms part of a colourful pattern, ranging from red and pink to blues and purples. I'm smiling with a warm burst of pride as I glance down at my masterpiece, hands on hips.
It's the little things that get me through the day.
A hacking cough disturbs my moment. Shawn is lounging around in the office. He's adamant he's doing some accounting, something far too complicated for me to understand, but every time I walk past, it looks very much like he's on some kind of dating app. Still, whatever he's doing, it's keeping him busy and away from me.
The bell above the door jangles when someone walks in. Autumn has officially shifted into winter, and the crisp air follows the person inside. I'm still arranging the final pile when I turn to see Cain watching me.
He curves his lips into that subtly upturned smile. He's dressed once again in dark colours. His silver pendant gleams in the gloomy light. I jump, banging into the table, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. It had been only a few nights since I'd been to the old mill, his kisses still lingering on my skin. I had thought about nothing else. I wanted more. Much more. And this time... more than just kisses.
He puts a gentle hand on my elbow.
"I'm not sure I've ever seen so much care going into a book display." There's no mocking in his voice, and gently he adjusts a book I'd nudged when I'd banged the table. I place the book in my hands down, adding it to the rose-pink pile.
"What can I say... I love books."
He nods.
"This isn't just a job then. You love it here. I can tell."
I smile. Once again looking over the display, smiling at my work. I add one final touch, a sign with hand-drawn sketches from Lark portraying the most popular romance tropes.
"I like books. I always have. And I guess I'm lucky I can work here, help my family and do it surrounded by something I love." As I adjust the sign, he places his hand on mine, helping me to straighten it up. The warmth of his skin is scolding on mine and I bite my lip, fighting an even wider smile.
"Were you watching me from the window?"
"Only for a moment. I'm trying to learn more about you, little witch."
Hearing him say that is like the sun warming my skin. And the guilt I feel tip-toeing up my spine is like ice. He glances around, taking in the space.
"How did you know I worked here?"
"I didn't. I picked up your scent passing through town. I was curious."
"I finish soon... I just have a few things to do before I close up."
"In that case, I'd like to walk you home." There is something about the way he says this. It's not rehearsed exactly, but there's a civility I suspect is not usually there.
