Liam Davis & The Raven (Love Inscribed 1)

“Economics, but I don’t want to bore you with any details. I’m also an amateur photographer.” He reached around and unhooked a camera bag from his chair. He took out the camera, opened the lens cap and looked through the lens. “Say cheesy balls.”

Ugh.

Hunter lowered the camera and checked the picture. His lips quirked. “That usually works for a grin. Try again. How about cheesecake this time?”

Snap! Snap!

“Much better. I have to say, Liam, when you aren’t trying to run over the disabled, you’re quite a charming guy. Not my type, but cute for sure. Now, if the way is clear, how about we brave moving to the kitchen and getting us some cocktails?”

Two hours and three cocktails later, we were outside bashing the remnants of the hanging piñata, me with a baton, and Hunter with a long branch. Candy and condoms flew out of the donkey’s face and rained on us. Hunter stuffed half the condoms into a case at the side of his chair.

“Here ya go, Liam.” He rolled over to me and tugged my pen-pocket until I almost toppled onto him. “Whoa, there.”

I braced myself on his chair as a bunch of condoms were slipped inside my pocket.

“For whoever the lucky one is.”

I patted my notebook. Dizziness coursed through me, making me stumble backward. If Jill could see me now! “No lucky one. Too busy for that.”

“That’s too bad—shit!” Hunter was looking toward the road. Slamming the driver’s door to a beat-up Honda was Shannon, and the scowl on her face said everything. “She found me.”

“Game’s up, then,” I said.

“For today.” He rolled over to me. “Liam, meet me at Crazy Mocha Coffee on Ellsworth tomorrow.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Why? Why not? You’re here alone. I’m here alone. I’d say it wouldn’t hurt either of us to hang out tomorrow.”

“Well . . .”

“What? You have better plans?”

“I was going to buy a cat.”

He raised both eyebrows.

Shannon called out to him, her hair flying around her face. “Travis. Get your ass here now.”

He rolled backward, keeping his eyes on me. “Look, show up if you want to, or not. I’ll be there. One o’clock.”

Just a load of nonsense. I didn’t like it a jot. With gritted teeth, I highlighted the column I’d spent all morning writing, and deleted it.

I sank onto my couch, closed my laptop and rested it next to me. Without the purr of the fan, it was too quiet in the house. Despite the slight hangover, I didn’t appreciate the silence.

I moved into the study where I kept my stereo and tuned in to the local NPR channel. Dust drifted off the speakers as the room came alive with voices.

I sneezed. I should use the room more often. Sitting at a desk was better for my posture than the couch or the bed. Not half as cozy, though.

I sighed, then slumped out to the living room and snagged my keys and wallet. The clock in the kitchen read quarter to one.

The column could wait a few hours. Maybe escaping would help refresh my mind.

Fifteen minutes later, I was at Crazy Mocha Coffee. Hunter sat in the corner near the window, leaning back in his chair, leafing through a magazine.

Winding around the tables, I halted a few feet from him when he laughed. “And I thought I had a hangover!” He gestured to the seat across from him. “Like the look, man.”

I looked down at myself. What was he talking about—

Oh. The seams did look awfully large this side of the T-shirt. My hand flew to the back of my neck, where the tag scratched the palm of my hand.

“Wonderful.” I scanned for a restroom, but stopped at the counter. There, with their backs to me, were Shannon and Quinn. So much for thinking I’d never see them again.

Hunter cleared his throat. “Yep, guess who decided to tag along. There’s no damn getting rid of them.” He tossed the magazine onto the neighboring table, and it slid off the edge. After a few breaths, he shrugged. “Grab a seat, and I’ll get you coffee if you like.”

“Oh, uh, sure. Thanks.”

He winked and rolled off. “You betcha.”

“Guess I’ll just wait here with my T-shirt inside out until you get back, then.”

I’d meant the comment for myself, but halfway across the room Hunter chuckled. “Rock the look, man.”

“Shan,” Quinn’s voice sailed across the room, getting closer and closer. “I know it’s a pain in the ass, but I’m real thankful.”

“Keep buying me hot drinks, and I won’t throw you out on the street. Yet, anyway.” There came an oof, followed by a short laugh. “Hey, I’m carrying coffees here! Wait, isn’t that Liam?”

I straightened, wiping my palms against my thighs.

“Liam.” Quinn rested his hands on the table as he squeezed into a seat next to me. “Tell me you’re not here using Hunter as your angle.”