Chapter Eleven
Hidden in a shadowy corner by the refreshment table, Cameron stared out over the emptying library with a satisfied grin.
The night had been an even bigger success than he’d anticipated, and Asher had been absolutely radiant.
He’d known that once the nerves settled Asher’s natural charisma would shine through, and he hadn’t been wrong.
The man could charm the damn stars from the sky, and he’d certainly delighted his fans.
Cameron grinned into his coffee. Asher had breathed new life into the town’s neglected library, and he didn’t even know it.
It wasn’t just eager fans who had turned out, either.
Plenty of people from Mission Grove had shown up to offer their support.
He’d even spotted Derek and Tyler standing along the back wall during the question and answer part of the night.
It saddened him a little that he hadn’t gotten a chance to speak with them before they’d left, but his heart swelled with love and gratitude just knowing they’d been there.
Nico’s schedule hadn’t allowed him to stay for more than a few minutes, but honestly, Cameron had been surprised he’d shown up at all. Nico had a lot of good qualities, but a love of books wasn’t one of them.
Luke hadn’t been able to make it because he’d been on shift at the clinic. He had, however, texted Cameron while Asher had been reading from one of his books to offer his congratulations and demand they send him lots of pictures. It had actually been really sweet.
Of course, Cameron’s parents had been there, and Sarah Stone had clapped the loudest of anyone. As far as Cameron knew, his mother had never read the Marshall Kane series, but she’d sat there in the front row, beaming up at Asher, as proud as if he was her own son.
He really did have the best parents in the world. He doubted there was a lost soul on the planet they weren’t willing to adopt into the Stone family.
The only person who had been suspiciously absent was his sister.
She’d texted to say she wasn’t feeling well and was sorry she’d have to miss the event, but she hadn’t offered any other details.
He’d tried asking her what was wrong, but she’d just sent back a smiley face and told him to wish Asher luck for her .
There was definitely something up with her lately, but he had a lifetime of experience to know that she wouldn’t tell him anything until she was good and ready. Still, he couldn’t help but worry.
“Hello, Cameron Stone.”
Lost in thought, he was too startled by the greeting to hide his reaction. He laughed.
“Hello, Willow.” He didn’t know why she insisted on always using his first and last name. As far as he knew, she didn’t do it with anyone else. “How are you tonight?”
“I’m very well, thank you.”
Dressed in a knee-length black dress with gold stitching and long, bell sleeves, she looked every bit the witch people accused her of being.
She’d pulled her fiery hair back into its usual braid for the evening, though she’d left a couple of strands loose in the front to curl around her heart-shaped face.
The green, glittering thread she’d woven through the strands was a nice touch, especially when they glinted in the light every time she moved.
“Thank you for helping out tonight. I really appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure.” She tugged absently at the amethyst stone hanging from a leather cord around her neck. “Thank you for the opportunity. I hope being more active in the community will help business.”
It was such a normal thing to say that Cameron blinked at her for a full thirty seconds before responding. “ The Witch’s Brew serves the best coffee in town,” he said honestly. “Everyone knows that. You’re just—”
“Weird.”
So weird.
Cameron chuckled. “I was going to say new.”
Willow arched an eyebrow. “I’ve lived here for three years.”
“Exactly. Considering most everyone else has lived here their entire lives, you’re still the new kid in town. Give it time.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I guess you’re right. I mean, I do steady business. I really shouldn’t complain.” All at once, the forlorn expression vanished, replaced by a cheerful smile that showed every one of her sparkling white teeth. “Thank you, Cameron Stone. You have been most helpful.”
Cameron chuckled again and shook his head. “Why do you call me that?”
“Cameron Stone? It’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
Willow gasped, just a small quiet sound that was barely audible over the drone of conversation. Clutching the stone around her neck more tightly, she turned sharply toward the front of the room, the sudden movement making the oversized hoops in her ears sway wildly .
“You should check on Mr. Dare.” She spoke calmly, which didn’t match her body language at all. “I think you should do it now.”
Cameron followed her gaze, looking for any indication that something was wrong.
A handful of people still grouped around the front of the table, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.
Granted, he couldn’t see past the couple at the head of the line to read Asher’s expression, but the guy was still sitting, so he had to assume everything was fine.
“Why? Everything looks okay.” He tilted his head, not wanting to outright dismiss her concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, but I think you need to go over there.” An urgency that hadn’t been there before tinged her words. “Now. Go now.”
“Yeah, okay.” He frowned as he placed his paper cup on the corner of the nearest table. He still didn’t think there was any cause for alarm, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out, either. “I’ll be right back.”
As he started across the room, he glanced around the milling crowd, searching for Ryder.
He spotted him almost at once, standing near a cluster of older women, his posture relaxed and seemingly disinterested.
Cameron didn’t miss the way his gaze flittered over the crowd or strayed to Asher every few seconds, though.
As if sensing his approach, those watchful eyes turned in his direction, and Ryder’s entire demeanor changed to one of instant alertness. Not wanting to alarm him unnecessarily, Cameron waved his hand, indicating that everything was fine. At least, he hoped it was.
Ryder remained where he was, but he didn’t relax.
Twenty feet from the stage, Cameron was just starting to feel foolish for letting Willow get inside his head when a slender man with a mop of unruly curls stepped into his path.
Cameron stopped dead, his heart hammering so hard it vibrated his entire body.
His eyes narrowed, his temples throbbed, and it took everything in him not to deck the asshole.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded. “You can’t be here.”
Landon Dwyer smirked. “Actually, I can.” Adopting an innocent expression, he held his hands out at his sides as he made a show of looking around the library. “Public venue. Public event. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Debatable since Cameron found his entire existence wrong , but he gritted his teeth and said nothing. The last thing Asher needed was for the bastard to twist Cameron’s words and broadcast them to the world on his stupid blog.
“Besides,” Landon added, turning to look toward the signing table over his shoulder, “I’m not the one you should be worried about.”
Having to bite his tongue and play nice was infuriating, especially when he wanted nothing more than to slap the smug look off the bastard’s face. Instead, he had to content himself with a scathing glare as shoved past and proceeded across the room.
Maybe he’d ask Willow to hex him. That was a thing, right? She’d probably do it, too.
He was still seething as he pushed his way to the front of the line, but the instant Asher came into view, he knew something was wrong. All thoughts of Landon Dwyer gone, he hurried around the table and placed a hand on Asher’s shoulder.
“Hey,” he said softly, acutely aware of their audience. “How’s it going?”
Asher didn’t answer, didn’t acknowledge him in any way. He just stared at the woman across the table as if she was death incarnate come to take his soul.
God, he was so still, and he had a drawn appearance, as if a light breeze might shatter him.
The blood had drained from his face, leaving him pale and ashen, but it was the look in his eyes that worried Cameron the most. It was the same lost, empty stare he’d seen only once before—the night Kyler Anders had arrived in Dallas.
He studied the woman for a moment, looking for any trace of a threat. She was a pretty woman, probably in her fifties, with streaks of silver in her dark hair. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but he couldn’t place where he might have seen her before.
“Hello,” he said, extending his right hand across the table. “I’m Cameron Stone. ”
She glanced at his hand, then back up, her hazel eyes cold and inscrutable. “I know who you are.”
Cameron dropped his hand. He didn’t know what her damn problem was, but he didn’t have the patience for her attitude. “Well, if you’ll excuse us, I need to borrow Asher for a minute.”
“We’ve come a long way to speak to Ash…er.”
A man roughly Asher’s height stepped up beside the woman.
He had the look of someone who had been formidable in his youth, but age, and maybe illness, had taken its toll.
His tan blazer hung off his shoulders as if it had been tailored for a much larger man, and his khaki slacks had been cinched so tightly around his waist the material bunched beneath the thin, leather belt.
“I’m sorry,” Cameron said with as much politeness as he could muster. “We’ll just be a minute.”
The man surveyed him through bleary, bloodshot eyes as if Cameron was something disgusting that he’d found on the bottom of his shoe.
“You listen here, boy.” He shuffled toward the table, his lined face twisting into a mask of unfounded anger.