17. Ember
EMBER
The corset is pushing into my ribs so hard I’ll be surprised if I don’t have marks at the very least. At the very worst, I’ll have become one with this evil contraption that only a masochist could’ve invented. But the beer is cold, and the company is delightful.
Devon and I are the talk of Harvest Falls. More and more townspeople have come up to us, telling us how much they enjoyed our skit. Devon introduces me to everyone, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no way I’m going to be able to keep everyone’s name straight.
Tourists wait their turn, too, asking Devon questions about the house and the story. He refuses to tell them whether it’s real or made up, which I think only adds to the eeriness.
“You two seemed to have had a good night,” Bea says. Her tour is tomorrow, but she’s already insisted she can’t wait. The only bad part about being a stop on the Tour is that I don’t get to take it.
I take a sip of the pumpkin spice beer in my hand. I’m not usually one for craft beer, but it’s not bad. Not as good as the pumpkin soup I ate when we first got here. The beer pairs well with the chips and salsa that are in the middle of the table though.
Before answering, I peer over at Devon who is answering questions thrown at him by a younger couple. He seems to be in his element, like he was all night.
“You’re not giving up the goods, are you?”
I chuckle. “There’s really nothing to say. It went really well. Devon stole the show. People seemed to love us.”
“Us,” she echoes. “It certainly has a nice ring to it.”
It isn’t the first time Bea has expressed an interest in Devon and I getting together.
Maybe it’s even the reason why I first entertained the idea, but his sour puss mood put an end to that.
Lately, though, things have been different.
He’s been eager to help, stepping up even when he wasn’t asked.
He seems genuinely concerned about the manor… and me.
“We make a good team,” I admit.
Her eyes flash, and I know what she’s thinking. My gaze drifts back toward Devon who’s now having a conversation with Travis while he refills our salsa.
“That’s a little progress,” Bea says slowly. “It’s better than the outright no you used to give me.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t think he’s all that interested, really. I might have thought about certain things,” I say, playing coy. “But I did up and take his dream from him.”
“Certain things, huh?”
She raises her eyebrows in quick succession like some sort of cartoon character.
“I mean…” I gesture toward him, but I stop immediately when he catches me doing it.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” Bea and I say at the same time which makes us dissolve into alcohol-fueled giggles.
He rolls his eyes.
“You know, Devon used to be quite the theater actor.”
I slap the table. “I knew it! He’s out there making me think he’s just a natural at everything, but he’s been trained.”
“I didn’t say I was a natural,” he protests.
I wave my hand at him as if to shoo him away.
“You could’ve said you were in theater. Here I am with a complex all night because I suck at acting.
I’m just mimicking the motions, and very badly, I might add.
” I make the gesture like I’m throwing a penny into the well, and Bea bursts out laughing.
“All this time I was working with a ringer. I don’t think I can trust you again, Devon Lachey. ”
Before he can answer, his mother comes up behind him and hugs his neck. “You are the talk of the town. Everyone loves Sleepy Hollow Manor. They can’t stop talking about it. About both of you!”
She glides over to me, hugging my own neck as I move my drink away so it doesn’t spill.
“This is the best marketing you could do for the manor, Ember. I’m so happy for you.
I’ve had more people ask about your two events than anything else that will happen during the Fall Spectacular.
Which is sort of annoying, but at the same time, couldn’t be happier for you, Dear.
By the way, you look absolutely stunning. Horrendously stunning.”
Somehow, even though her comment is a little sugar and spice, it’s completely true to her personality. “Thanks, Mrs. Lachey.”
“We know how it is in Harvest Falls,” Devon offers, trailing away at the end and peering at everyone expectantly.
“If one of us does well, we all do well,” Bea, Devon, and Trav, who’s come back with a new beer for me, say in unison like they’ve rehearsed it a dozen times.
“I’ll have to remember that one.”
“Well, you’re a part of the Harvest Falls family now,” Mrs. Lachey says. “You’ll get the hang of it. Ooh, also, Rose told me you’re going to have a proposal for me soon. I can’t wait to read it! She seems very excited.”
I’m bursting at the seams to tell her about the Children’s Haunted House idea when she spots someone else she wants to talk to and hurries off.
“She does that a lot,” Devon says when he sees my face after I almost start talking to empty air.
“She’s quick,” I comment.
“So, Ember, when are you going to invite me over for a Halloween movie marathon at the manor? I want to scare myself stupid and stay up all night watching the shadows.”
I slap the table a couple more times. I keep doing that, but I can’t stop it either.
I’m just getting too excited. “I knew you were my bestie for a reason. Yes, I want to do that. I haven’t even watched one horror movie since I’ve been in the house.
I’ve mainly just been sleeping, cleaning, and planning.
I’m already half out by the time I lay my head on the pillow. ”
“Well, after tomorrow, you should take a little time off. Don’t you think, Devon?”
Devon takes a sip from his beer bottle, that Adam’s apple working again. It might be the beer I’ve drank, but I kind of wish I was the bottle. Which doesn’t even make sense, but somehow in my head, it does.
“Definitely. You should enjoy the season, too.”
“You know what’s fun? The hayride.”
Bea peers at Devon, and it’s as if I’m being set up for something. Devon nods. “The hayride is a lot of fun.” Suddenly, Devon jumps in his seat. He shoots Bea a look before saying, “We should go to the hayride together.”
I glance between the two of them because I’m not sure what happened other than it seems as if Bea is trying to get Devon to ask me out. I’m a little murky on whether he actually wants to or not, even though he did. “That could be fun.”
“It’s a blast,” Bea praises. “It’s by the same farm who does the corn maze, so while you’re there, maybe you could talk to Mark about participating in the Children’s Haunted House.”
Devon’s eyes are fixated on me. “Or we could just enjoy ourselves.”
A curl of want tightens in my stomach. Letting my guard down around Devon is proving to be difficult because I’m thinking things I’m not sure I should be.
Maybe I’m making all of this up in my head and Devon really doesn’t want to go to the hayride with me, but he felt obligated to ask since Bea made it so obvious that’s what she wanted him to do.
Gosh, I didn’t think I’d have to navigate this kind of relationship here and now. Not while I’m trying to get the manor off the ground.
I peer at Devon, wondering if he’d be worth the trouble.
Part of me thinks he is unless he just wants a fling.
Something to release the tension between us.
I don’t want to come into town, sleep with someone, and then have it be awkward for the rest of my life.
With how Devon has proven he can be difficult, it’s not something I could just turn the other cheek to.
On the other hand, there’s a tug toward him that I can’t explain.
The more I get to know him—without him being a giant dick—the more I like him.
He’s kind. Sweet. Caring. The way he just took charge that day and fixed up the yard without me having to ask and not wanting anything in return, I don’t think there’s any way I could repay him.
Well, actually, there is a way I could repay him, but that’s the beer talking and all those images I have stored in my brain of his forearms, abs, and backward hat looks.
I need a shower. That’s what I need.
“You know,” I say. “I think this corset is finally getting to me. I better get back.”
“Devon will walk you,” Bea states at the same time Devon says, “I’ll walk you.”
They shoot each other looks, and I definitely know there’s something going on now.
My chair scrapes against the floor as I stand. I peer at the fresh glass of beer. “Please drink that so Travis isn’t offended.”
Bea smiles. “The things I do for you.”
I lean over. “And tomorrow we’re going to have a talk about boundaries.”
“Me?” she asks in feign shock.
“Yeah, you. You’re a shitty matchmaker.”
I stop talking because Devon rounds the table and stands in front of me. We both walk out of the building, him holding the door for me. A draft of cold air hits, and I shiver from head to toe like it came directly from my bones.
“It’s cold,” Devon remarks as he slips his Union Civil War jacket from his shoulders and places it around mine.
I’m cold enough that I don’t protest his nice gesture.
The wind blows the curls I made earlier across my cheeks, and I take in the square at night.
Antique lampposts provide circles of light over the sidewalks.
The local businesses are dark, except for the pub, giving the place an eerie vibe.
Or that could be all the mixed feelings I have about walking back to the manor with Devon. “You don’t have to walk me, you know.”
“I want to,” he says.
“Listen, about Bea,” we both say, and then I crack up. I stop almost immediately with a bit of a groan. The corset is really pushing into me now. I shouldn’t have had those two bowls of soup.
“You okay?”
“Just this corset. I don’t know how women did it. I might need a chainsaw to get it off.”
He snickers.
“You laugh, but I’m serious. The corset and me are one now. Pretty sure it’s just grown into my body.” I rub the area where it hurts, hoping I’m not actually serious about this. It would be embarrassing to have to call someone to help me out of a dress.
“Let’s hope not. It’s a good look for you, but I think I favor the real you. The more modern take on Ember O’Malley.”
“Me too,” I admit. “But listen, about Bea, I’m not sure why she’s being so pushy. I haven’t said anything to her about… Well, about being into you or whatever it is she thinks might be happening between us. We’re just stewards of the manor at this point.”
“Ember.”
“I just didn’t want you to think that I’ve been talking to her like I have a schoolgirl crush because I don’t. She just has this weird idea about us getting together or something. I’m not sure. She hasn’t really even explained it to me.”
“Ember.”
“Which is none of her business anyway. I think she’s just looking out for the both of us, but it’s a little embarrassing the way she keeps trying to get the two of us together, and I in no way—.”
“For God’s sake, Ember.”
I peer toward him, stopping when I see the look in his eyes. I can’t get another viable word out, and the only sound my body makes is, “Hmm?”
He grins. “Bea keeps speaking up because she thinks I won’t take chances anymore. She thinks I won’t…”
“Won’t?” I urge.
“Well, she thinks I won’t tell you that I know we got off to a rocky start, but I was kind of hoping that maybe you’d like to get to know me a little better.”
He lifts his shoulders, then rocks on his feet like he’s nervous. It’s endearing. “Really? But you’re older than me.”
His eyes lose hope for a moment, dimming, but then I quickly take it back. “I don’t care. It’s not that. I’m just shocked that you would be interested in me.”
“I know. I’m crazy. You’re beautiful. Talented. You have an entrepreneurial spirit that I admire. I have no idea why I would be interested. You sound awful, actually. Forget I asked.”
I laugh at that, chuckling through the pain the stupid corset is causing. “So you don’t want to take me to the hayride?”
“Nope. Worst idea ever.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to go.”
“Excellent. I won’t pick you up at seven then.”
“You better not. I won’t be ready.”
He steps forward, his fingertips trailing across my temples and then into my hair. My belly does a flip like I really do have a schoolgirl crush. It doesn’t matter that he’s dressed up as a century and a half old soldier, he’s so handsome. His eyes capturing mine.
“Where did you come from?”