Cam’s eyes sought out Patrick. “Wow, I didn’t recognize him.” The light in his eyes died, and he dropped his gaze to the folder in his lap.

“I’m sure he’d love to see you,” Thea lied.

“Right. I somehow doubt that.” He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms, then seemed to think twice about it and pulled them back down.

“What’s got you nervous?” I asked as Tyler Williamson took the podium to introduce new business.

He finally looked at me, and butterflies shot through my belly. Don’t react. Do. Not. React. Funny thing about my body: it always betrayed my logical brain when Cam was near.

“I’ll tell you later,” he promised as Dorothy Powers took the podium, leaving Arthur Daniels next to the seat she’d vacated.

“It’s still weird to see Xander in your dad’s seat.”

As if Xander heard me, he saw Cam in the crowd and forced a fake smile.

Cam gave him a two-fingered wave and looked away quickly. My bewilderment only grew when Art looked back at Cam and gave him a subtle nod.

What the fresh hell was going on?

“As you know…” Dorothy leaned into the microphone, her voice booming through the hall. “One of Alba’s own has recently returned to our fair town. I’m excited to say that Camden Daniels would like to submit his summer plan. Now, what he’s proposing might not be feasible until the end of the season—”

I blinked. Surely I didn’t hear what I thought I did.

“Respectfully, Mrs. Powers, let me stop you there,” Dad interjected. “Only a voting member can propose a summer plan, and seeing as Art is happily still with us, the Daniels family only maintains one voting position in the Historical Society.”

“You have a summer plan?” I hissed at Cam, irrationally insulted that he hadn’t told me. Having a summer plan implied that he wasn’t just home…he really was staying. My heart stuttered, then raced.

Cam ignored me, but he gripped his folder tighter.

Every council member’s attention flickered between Dorothy and Cam in obvious, open shock.

“Respectfully,” Dorothy replied, saccharine sweet, “I’m well aware of our rules, Mr. Bradley. I’ve been a voting member for the last twenty-five years. If my memory serves me right, you’ve been in that seat for the past…seven?”

Dad’s mouth twisted, but he didn’t open it. Man, was I glad I didn’t live at home anymore, because he was going to be livid for days.