“I’m Colette Amelot,” I say quietly, “and I hope you don’t hate me before we’ve even been introduced.”
He takes a large handful of cookies and sets them back on the display table, his gaze flicking to my face. His eyebrow lifts.
“Introduced?”he says wryly. “I’d say we’ve passed that point since you ambushed me with your mouth.” His tone is a mix of disdainful vampire and reluctantly entertained writer.
Damn it all. I do feel terrible. “I don’t know what came over me. I thought you were leaning in.” I put more cookies on the table, then cover my face with my crumby, sweet-smelling hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
I peek at him between my fingers. His lips purse and he shakes his head.
“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m Archer. And I forgive you. It was an honest mistake.”
His words are kind enough, but his expression tells me he would never have made such a mistake, which I don’t doubt is completely true. He might be clumsy for a vampire, but he seems like he isn’t the type to go kissing strangers. Regardless, I exhale, relief like a cold river on a summer day, and I brush crumbs off my dress.
“Thank you so much. Was it because you’re a vampire? Do you make everyone swoon like that?” I say teasingly, hoping to diffuse the tension.
He snorts an unfunny laugh and dusts his hands off. “I wish I could tell you yes, but alas, I don’t affect everyone in that way.”
His eyes pinch and he looks away, distracted. It makes me wonder who hurt him.
I don’t get a chance to say anything else because readers swamp my table.
I sign and sell books as the sun moves across the sky. I hug most of my readers, and we tell one another about our favorite lines and moments in all sorts of books, not just mine. It’s so much fun.
Lysandra breaks through the crowd and gives me an ale, a thick slice of brown bread, and a hunk of cheese. With my stomach growling, I apologize for the cookie mess, and she waves it off. She’s sweating and muttering about seating for the tea, so I don’t think she’s even listening. She’s gone before I can ask how I can help.
More readers keep coming, and soon, I’m out of books. I hand out a few bookmarks and wave to the last of my crowd.
With the area clear, I can see Archer at his table, his book stack slightly lower than it was, but not completely gone like mine. I wish he had sold out. I hope I didn’t ruin his dark, serious reputation with my antics.
“That was really fun, right?” I say, trying to turn his frown upside down. “I love meeting readers. It’s my favorite. The weather is so perfect for this kind of thing too! Gosh, other than my, um, mistake earlier, it’s been a lovely day. Where are you staying tonight?”
He twists in his chair and blinks. “Why? Are you propositioning me? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“No, no! I’m not.” A shaky laugh leaves me.
His eyebrow flicks upward. “I was kidding.”
“Oh, right. Well, you see, I own the Acorn Inn, and I have two rooms left if you need one.”
His lips pull away from his teeth like the very idea of staying at my inn is detestable. “I’m staying with Halvard. Do you know him?”
Maybe I’m misreading him. “Oh, wonderful. Yes, he’s actually a member of my extended family. His sister-in-law’s mother married my mother after my father died.”
“Ah, I see,” he says, even though he looks a little confused.
“Did you have any family come by today? Mine were too busy with younglings to come to the faire.”
“No family visits for me. Even if they were here, they wouldn’t have come to see me and my books.”
“Why?”
He squeezes his eyes shut briefly, then meets my gaze.Blessed Stones, he is so handsome.
“I’m sorry I said that,” he says quietly. “I shouldn’t be dumping my family trauma onto random strangers.”
Hmm. Interesting. “Are we strangers though?” I give him an impish grin.
He clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something, his expression going stormy again, but a straggler is suddenly at my table, chatting me up about my last release. I hand them a bookmark that features my cover art and sign their book.
