Page 41 of Autumn Ritual

I paused at a four way stop to send a text to myself. “Book a cover. Set up a pre-order for June on book one. Begin talking about the story on social media.”

There.

This indie author had a solid plan.

I smiled at myself just as a horn blared behind me. I glared through the rearview mirror. Screw them! I was growing as an author, and this was a big moment for me! And it was better than before. I had a muse, but also…someone to share the journey with.

If only he would come out of the shadows.

***

Why did Camillo avoid me? I huffed and wriggled against the metal folding chair. The half-eaten brat sat on my plate. Ketchup oozed from the sides.

“The Italians make better schweinshaxe than the Germans,” Mamma chuckled, twisting her forkful of pork before taking a bite.

Papà smiled at her. “That is because the blond barbarians are ravenous. They overcook things. No patience for the finer aspects of life.”

I flicked a glance at my parents. They were adorable. Head over heels in love, sitting there happily discussing food.

Hope fluttered in my chest. The chance to have something like that was right within my reach.

If only Cam didn’t avoid me like the plague….

What is his problem? I huffed again and shoved my glasses up my nose.

He sat with a group of Made Men, sipping a mug of wheat ale. The wise guys around him laughed and joked, but Cam stared into his mug as if it held the answer to his dilemma. The difference in attitude was striking. I studied him as though he was a character in a book—which he was. Both the fiction I was creating and the story of my life.

He wasn’t an assassin for hire. He stayed in the Cove.

With a sharp breath, I sat up straighter. That was it!

He was a cold-blooded killer, carrying out the don’s dirty work. He was one of the mobsters, but also not one of them. And it bothered him.

Which means he thinks it will bother me.

I had to resist the urge to fly across the picnic tent and wrap my arms around his throat. Silly man. He probably thought it wasn’t noble work, staying here and not taking contracts like the others. But someone had to keep the soldiers in line.

“I’m going to get another pretzel,” I announced, interrupting my parents, who were chatting with some friends who’d appeared at our table.

“Bring me some!” Mamma chirped. “And extra beer cheese, please.”

I grinned at her but promptly forgot what I was doing the moment I reached the food line. Cam had gone still. His body shifted slightly as though he was tracking my movements without looking at me.

He was so close. His table was right next to the buffet of food.

I racked my brains to come up with an opening line. Something light and breezy. But my stupid tongue wanted to say something to the effect of I love it when you bend me over the bed and take me hard.

That would never do.

A body stepped forward from the right. “Evening, Sara.”

Ice drenched the hunger coursing through my veins. “Rob.”

My ex leered at me. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” I crossed my arms over my chest. But the defiance fell flat as curious glances flicked in our direction. “What are you even doing here?”

“Well, when you wouldn’t answer my calls, I had to find you.” Rob raked a look over me, mouth twisting at the black dress I wore. He always wanted me in color. “I’ve missed you, Sara.”