Chapter 8

EIGHT

I wasn't sure I heard the beep around the fuzz in my brain, but then the door started moving.

I slammed it closed.

"Hey!"

"Just a second," I called out.

"Penn? Is that you?" Colette's voice was muffled through the reinforced steel of the door.

"Give me a second."

"What are you doing in my storeroom? We've been looking all over for you."

"Just a second. I got locked in here when I tried to sneak around the crowd."

"Well, I'll let you out."

I hurriedly reached over for a paper towel from the stash of cleaning supplies by the door and took care of the condom, shoving the wad into my pocket where her panties were.

"Give me some," Rita whispered furiously. "And my panties."

"Those are mine." I grinned at her. "I'll be back to let you out."

"You can't—" She snapped her mouth shut as the door opened again.

"Thank God. I've been in there forever."

"How the hell did you get in there?"

I slipped out the door, waving to Rita as the door closed.

Colette was annoyed as she tried to go back inside. "I need some of the books inside there."

"Okay, I will grab them. I was sitting on the cases of books when you tried to come in. These long legs needed room. You almost kneecapped me."

Colette frowned at me. "How did you get in there? I'm just going to keep asking until you finally answer me."

"The back door was propped open. I saw the line and got spooked. How the hell did you get so many people here?"

"BookTok, baby." She grinned up at me. "Which was why I need to go back and get those cases of books. I don't even know if I have enough."

"I can send Larsen back to my place. I had another few cases sent to the house just in case."

And my printed stash was getting dangerously low.

"Can you? Oh, good. Though I have a feeling I need way more for my romance author."

"Really? More than for me and Ryan?" Oddly affronted, I tried to suck back the jealousy. "For a romance author?"

"Have you checked the charts lately, pal? Romance runs the world."

" Date With Disaster ? Are you for real?" The name was seared into my memory banks. I hadn't looked at the name of the author, they were all interchangeable and half the time the pen names changed on a dime.

"If you were sitting that tight butt on my merchandise, then you should know. Maybe you were in there reading one."

"Definitely not."

She shook her head. "Asshole." But she said it good-naturedly. Ish .

I opened my mouth to apologize, but she held her hand up and rattled off the code for the door. "Just get the cases. You can pay for your jerkdom with labor. All the cases," she said as she turned back on her heel. She was already talking to someone down the hall.

Guess it was an all hands-on deck situation.

I opened the door, and a box was shoved into my stomach. She knocked me back a few feet, and I crashed into the wall. "Hey!"

Her beautiful green eyes, sated and happy mere minutes before, were filled with icy fury. Her hair was still wild from my fingers, and her lips raspberry red from my kisses and beard, but now her teeth were bared. What the hell had happened from then to now?

She stormed down the hall, her cornsilk hair flying behind her.

I glanced down at the box with the flap still open.

Date With Disaster was plainly on display. This time, I read the name of the author—actually, authors. "Rita Savage and Jenelle Matthews." I slammed my head back against the wall. "Fuck."

Rita.

My Rita.

I reached inside the box and flipped the paperback over. Her smiling face was at the bottom corner of the book, her back to another woman. Where Rita was blond and fair, her girl next door on full display in the outdoor photo, the other woman was sharp-featured with miles of black hair that tumbled over her shoulder, her eyes far chillier than Rita's.

How on earth had they worked together?

I shook that away, aware that was the least of my freaking worries. I'd just fully insulted the woman who had rocked my world into the next galaxy.

"Great job, Masterson," I muttered.

"What's the great job?" Larsen was at the end of the hall.

"Just come over here and help me."

He rolled his eyes and took off his jacket, placing it gently on the counter. Flipping his cuffs back along his forearms as he strode down the hall, he gave me a quizzical look.

"Don't ask."

He glanced down at me. "Fix your shirt, you look like you just took a goddamn nap."

Not exactly what I'd been doing.

But I set the case down and fixed my shirt, and then I opened the door again to grab more cases.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to corral the insanity in the front for nearly half an hour."

Was that really all it had been?

Twenty- ish minutes to knock me off my game completely. To absolutely rattle me into wondering if a true connection could happen in less than four days.

And less than two minutes to ruin it all.

"Why do you look sweaty?"

"I've been locked in the back room."

"That doesn't explain the sweaty."

"Not exactly air-conditioned," I said as I picked up two boxes of books. The other cases were a different title, same author names. These had obviously been done by a larger printer.

I checked the side of the box, and sure enough, it was from a major traditional press.

Christ, I was beyond an ass.

"Oh, this is the fiery lass who just passed me." Larsen dug out a copy and flipped it over. "Right, the blond. She looks a hell of a lot sweeter in this photo."

"Yeah. I think I inadvertently insulted her."

"Brilliant."

And from a Scotsman, that meant it was anything but.

"Yeah. Not my finest moment. Now I have to try to make nice with her. Based on this crowd, think you could take a ride back to my parents' house to get the few cases I have left for me and Ryan's books?"

He nodded. "Good luck." Larsen eased the extra box on top of my pile until I grunted under the weight. "I'm just going to smooth some ruffled feathers for you on the way out."

I sighed and followed him. That was probably for the best.

The closer we got to the mouth of the hallway, the more nerves hopped in my chest. Going from coming my brains out to being in author mode wasn't my usual milieu.

I wasn't like some graphic novelists or authors who fucked their way through conventions and bookstore signings. Some definitely got off on the fan attention.

Me? I was more worried about networking these days. The fans were a release valve to remind me what I did mattered, not a pool of willing women.

Maybe early in my Comic Con days, I'd gotten a little more careless, but seeing one too many of my fellow artists get their ass into hot water had been enough to set me straight.

Even if the authors were above board, all it took was one unbalanced fan to torpedo a career. And many of my earlier colleagues had treated the convention circuit akin to a rockstar life. Including the drugs and booze that had gotten more than one of them slapped with lawsuits.

No, thanks.

No party was worth that for me.

Rita also wasn't like those long-ago hookups. Even if it should have been based on the nameless game we'd played.

But there had been something there, even at the start. Something sparkier than just lust. When I'd tried to charm her in the café, there had been more to the flirtation.

At least for me.

Based on how we'd reacted to one another in the storage room, I knew that was a fact.

The crush of people snaking around the displays of reader-themed gifts and books dragged me back into the now. Colette had changed the store around for maximum customer effect. There were still corners for people to shop the crafts and one-of-a-kind artistry while they waited for their turn at the tables.

But it was a far cry from the store I'd been in a few short days ago.

Now it was probably a code violation—even though there was also a line going out and around the building. Just what we needed, Christian crashing the party. My brother was all about those rules and regulations.

I spotted Ryan on the dais with her table stacked high with copies of Tripod as well as the plushies we'd ordered for the signing.

She was her full-on witch self today with her long crystal necklaces, as well as dozens of bracelets and more crystals at her ears. Her obsidian dark hair fell around her shoulders, parted at the center with a few braids interspersed with more sparkles.

I wove my way through the customers waiting, waving, and smiling as I carried the cases of books. Ryan's table was at the center clad in black cloth, showing off the books and baskets of Smoky the cat as well as Sylvia the fox on either side of her. An array of pens, Sharpies, and sticky notes were ready for use.

Rita was to the right of her with a green tablecloth with dozens of books on display. Most were the same as the one I was holding, Date with Disaster, along with an array of covers that looked like they could have been taken right here in the Cove.

Or perhaps the Adirondack area.

It wasn't quite like our home, but so very similar. Our ?

No, my home.

Hell, not even my home. What the hell was wrong with me?

I brought the books over to where Colette and Rita were whispering. They stopped immediately when I stopped in front of them.

Rita's green eyes were blank and distant. "Thanks."

"Rita, I—" I fell silent.

She gave me a hard look.

Colette glanced from me to her and back. "Do you know each other?"

"Nope," Rita said sharply. "I don't know him at all."

My molars snapped together. I knew her biblically. And would have loved to spend more time finding out just how many freckles were hidden under her dress.

Now that we weren't in the shadows, I noted the reddish brown of her dress. The memory of the soft fabric made my throat dry. Her blond hair was artfully arranged around her shoulders with that wispy fringe of bangs that made her face even more…there was no other word than elven .

She could have walked out of the pages of a fantasy novel.

And I'd absolutely fucked up with her.

I set the boxes beside the table and shoved them under the cloth, well versed in signings. "Right." I glanced at the double names. "Just you?"

She stiffened. I wasn't sure how she could be any more rigid, but her fingers curled around her chair until the skin around her wine-colored nails went white. Hell, had I stepped on another landmine?

"Any other ways to slice me open today?"

Colette's gaze swung to Rita, her eyes wide.

I held my hands up. "I didn't mean anythin?—"

"Why no," she whispered furiously, "I'm here alone. It's obviously just how it should be, right?"

My stomach dropped. Fuck.

Colette touched her arm soothingly.

"Why don't you go over there with your dark and chaotic knight. Oh, so dark and manly with his perpetual nihilism. Very well rounded. I'll just stay over here in my lovely romance world where everything is light and soft. Surely I couldn't have a deep and meaningful scene with romance, right?"

I moved back a step. The zinger was sharp and accurate. When I turned around, I noted all the people in line with her books versus mine. It was plentiful, but the difference was very apparent.

And much of the rest was for Ryan.

Which was amazing.

True, a small town wasn't exactly the market share for my readership. Just another sharp bit of truth for my day.

I moved to Ryan's table, pasting a smile on my face. "Hey, Ry. I see you got the shipment of your guys." I took a soft plushie Sylvie out of the basket. Her sweet fox face had been surprisingly perfectly captured on the huggable pillow kind of plushie that had taken the world by storm.

"PMS is tired of storing these guys in the garage."

PMS was her snarky nickname for her partner, Preston Shaw, a local lawyer in the next town over, Kensington Square.

She grinned up at me from the table. She sat back a little, all of her witchy things glittering along with a tarot deck beside her. "Actually, that's a lie. Preston has built a freaking storage unit for them and the last of the books I had on hand. Actually built. With a drill. I'm not sure what's happening with my guy these days. Hanging with his renovating friends too much, I guess."

"I expected him to be here."

"Oh, he will be. He's fighting the crowds at the coffee shop. Sent me a snap of the line." She pitched her voice low. "I wasn't expecting this turnout. I'm not sure I have enough books."

"I know it. I'm sending Larsen to the house for the last few cases I have in my mom's garage. I had them sent up, just in case."

Relief smoothed her face. "Thank the goddess."

This wasn't the place to mention that I wasn't sure I could fulfill the preorders. I had to put my burgeoning love life on the back shelf of my brain. Handily, Rita had used a scythe to take care of the worst of that.

"We'll just try to make sure everyone here is happy, yeah? If we run out, we'll offer a discount to preorder."

Digging myself a further hole wasn't the best idea, but it was all I had.

"Good. I like a plan."

I arched a brow. "Since when?"

Ryan grinned. "Since PMS. I've learned having a few plans are good for me."

When I just stared at her, she laughed.

" Ish . Okay? I'm trying."

"Do you need anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm good. PMS is bringing a vat of coffee for us. Colette—an absolute doll, by the way—has fruit, water, and snacks for us in the back for when we take breaks."

"Colette is always on top of things. I'm not shocked." Instead, the shocked portion was for me since I'd been so completely unprofessional today.

Which was going to change.

"Okay, we're going to get going in about ten minutes, so if you need to do the bathroom thing, now's the time. I don't think we'll be moving for awhile."

"Good point." Ryan stood, her long black dress swirling around her ankles along with matching knee-high boots with a wicked heel that peeked from the slit.

Both women had dressed to impress, and I suddenly wished that I'd listened to Larsen with the Hugo Boss dress pants. Not that it was like me in any way, but I was also the face of Duality Press, not just the artist behind its creation.

Annoyed with myself on several levels, I strode out for some air.

The conversations in the line dented my anger. Excitement at meeting Rita was abundant, but there were some fans there for me, as well. And since October was close, there were actually a few costumes dotted in among street clothes.

To make myself feel better, I jogged down to the person in line dressed as my character. "Buddy, that's amazing."

The fan turned around with a genial smile on his face. When he recognized me, he went pale under the hood. "Oh, man. It's you. Really you, you."

I laughed and held out my hand. "Really me. What's your name?"

"Tommy." He pumped my hand furiously.

"You got some serious skills." I eased him out of the line. "You'll hold his spot?"

The girl with him bobbed her head. "I will."

I urged him toward the alleyway between Vintage December and a shop that had a coming soon sign on it. Always new things popping up on Main Street these days. "How about we get some photos? Would you mind going on my socials?"

"What? Man, oh man. That would be so cool."

I did a few selfies and then did a quick video for TikTok and the Gram. The kid was beaming by the end of it.

"I can't believe you even got all the runes right."

"Oh, yeah. I've read every volume at least twenty times. Moksha never wavers. Sometimes in comics, you have different authors so the storylines can get muddy, but not yours, man. Solid every time."

"I appreciate it. Let me get your email, and I'll send you an advanced copy of the next one."

"What? Really?"

"Now don't scream it out to everyone. But yeah. I'll get you one."

"Sure, sure. Thanks for what you do, man. I know you probably hear this all the time, but these stories got me through some dark times." He huffed out a laugh. "Being into tabletop games and graphic novels can definitely be hard in school."

"High school is temporary. I was the weirdo who didn't fit in with my big, athletic brothers and look at me now."

"You're right. I've got some ideas for a game. Good ones."

"Then that's where you go, man. Believe me, it's easier to do what you love all day."

"Yeah. You're right!" Tommy's face was stuck in a smile.

It was a good reminder that I did all of this for people like him. The fans who were invested in the characters and obviously so supportive.

"Okay, I gotta get inside. I'll see you inside then?"

He nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Masterson."

"Penn," I corrected.

Tommy talked a bit about his game as we walked back to the line. It also gave me an idea about possibly looking into doing my series as a role-playing game. I'd shied away from it because the market seemed saturated, but maybe it was a good avenue to explore.

I waved and took a few photos with people on my way back up to Every Line, ducking inside two minutes before the signing was to start.

Colette rushed forward. "Where have you been?"

"Just needed some air."

"Get that fine butt over there behind your table. The natives are getting restless."

"Okay, okay." I grinned at her, my mood definitely improved after my trip outside.

I glanced up at Rita's table and the pit returned to my stomach when she looked right through me. Two could play at that. I stepped up on the dais and slipped behind my black-cloaked table with the cardboard cutout of Moksha in full cloak and weapons behind me.

"Showtime," I muttered under my breath.