He stared at the chalkboard menu on the wall behind the counter and frowned. There wasn’t anything on the sign he recognized. Hell, he wasn’t even sure all of the options were actually drinks—or even edible.
When a full minute ticked by, he finally gave up and shrugged. “What do you recommend?”
“The Hocus Pocus,” she told him at once, not waiting for his confirmation before entering the order into the computer. “I think…a classic Witch’s Brew for your friend.”
Asher glanced over both shoulders in turn, then back to the young woman. “I’m sorry, who?”
“The friend you’re meeting here.” She said this distractedly with just a hint of impatience as she continued tapping at the touchscreen. “He’s running late, but he’ll be here soon.”
Was she fucking with him? He looked to Cameron, hoping for some explanation of what had just happened, but the guy just laughed and shook his head.
When Willow gave them their total, Asher reached into his back pocket for his wallet, but Cameron beat him to it. He looked to be having a hard time keeping a straight face as he passed his credit card across the counter, and he kept sneaking glances at Asher from the corner of his eye. It was almost like he was waiting for something to happen, or at least, waiting for Asher’s reaction to something.
When the transaction was complete, he didn’t step back from the counter. Asher didn’t have to wait long to find out why.
“The Lovers,” Willow said out of nowhere, holding up and actual fucking Tarot card for them to see. “Very appropriate, isn’t it? I’m so glad you two worked things out. I was worried there for a little while.” She laid the card aside and clasped her hands together. “Your order will be out in a minute. I suggest the table by the fire.”
Asher’s head reeled as he thanked her and followed Cameron to the table she’d suggested. “What the hell just happened?”
“Willow happened.” Laughing, Cameron settled into one of the chairs and waited for Asher to do the same. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
“If you say so.” He lounged back in his seat while he considered that. He’d honestly never met anyone quite like Willow, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Just a little strange when he wasn’t expecting it. “So, what exactly did we order anyway?”
“I got a Black Cat, otherwise known as a salted caramel mocha. You ordered the Hocus Pocus.” His lips twitched, and his eyes danced with amusement. “It’s sort of like a cinnamon, vanilla latte, and I’m pretty sure the Witch’s Brew is for Talon. It’s just a plain black coffee.”
Since Asher was still trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing, it took him a minute to realize what Cameron had said. “Wait.” He leaned forward, his brow wrinkling. “I ordered what?”
“A cinnamon, vanilla latte.”
Jesus, his brain hurt. “And what about me screams that I would enjoy a cinnamon, vanilla latte?”
Cameron looked him up and down and smirked. “Probably the sweater that costs more than half my wardrobe combined.” His gaze went to the entrance, and he lifted a hand in the air over his head. “Talon’s here.”
He said this unnecessarily, because every person in the coffee shop had turned to watch Talon as he wound his way to their table. Asher couldn’t fault them. If his RalphLauren cashmere sweater drew a few raised eyebrows, it was nothing compared to the picture of wealth and privilege Talon exuded.
He was dressed as impeccably as always in a black, tailored suit with a silk, ash-gray shirt beneath his jacket. He’d made a small concession to the monochrome by pairing it with a lavender tie and matching handkerchief in his breast pocket. Slick and shiny, his dark locks were perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. His smooth jaw painted the picture of a man who would never be caught in public with an unshaven face.
It wasn’t just his clothes that had commanded the attention of the patrons, though. Shoulders back, head high, he carried himself with a cool confidence that bordered on superiority. He didn’t look around the room, didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. He just stared down his nose and marched straight ahead. If the glares he received were any indication, his whole “fuck off” vibe wasn’t sitting well with the locals.
While he waited for Talon to reach them, Asher idly wondered if he’d looked like that big of a douchebag the first time he’d visited the sleepy town. Probably. He was getting better, though, even if the three-hundred-dollar sweater he was wearing suggested otherwise.
“Sorry I’m late,” Talon said in lieu of an actual greeting as he slid into the seat closest to the fire. “Have you ordered?”
The question had no sooner left his mouth than a young man with brown, wavy hair and wide-set green eyes approached the table. He was young, probably no older than twenty or twenty-one, and there was a franticness about him that seemed to seep out and permeate the air. The kid’s anxiety was so palpable, Asher found himself twitching in his seat.
“First day?” he ventured as the server placed an honest-to-god cauldron in front of him with a shaking hand.
The guy offered him a fleeting smile. “Is it that obvious?”
Asher laughed. “Just a little.”
He expected Cameron to greet the server by name and offer some sort of encouragement. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he asked about the kid’s mother, sister, and all forty-eight of his distant cousins. So, when he accepted his coffee with a slight frown, Asher wasn’t sure what to think. Cameron wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, but there was definitely something bothering him.
“Okay?” Asher asked quietly.
Instead of answering him, Cameron looked up at the server and asked, “Are you new to town?”
Ah, now he got it. Cameron wasn’t upset. He just didn’t like that he didn’t know something.
