He shrugged. What could he say? When it came to her, it seemed he was stubborn. Stubborn and protective.
So long as he didn’t get possessive. Because she wasn’t going to belong to him.
“Excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
Isaac watched as Caley fled back into her office.
“Do you think she works so much because she’s short on money?” Archer asked.
His brother looked around the cabin. “Yeah, I’ve had that thought myself.”
It was obvious she didn’t have much. Everything in the cabin was old or broken. She didn’t have an adequate supply of firewood. She worked long hours.
He guessed she didn’t sell a lot of books.
Isaac sat, leaning his elbows on his thighs. “I messed up.”
“What did you do?”
He sighed. “I insulted her previous Dom.”
“Ahh, I’m guessing that didn’t go down well with her?”
“No. He was also her daddy.”
“So where is he now?”
“He died.”
“Aww, Christ. Poor darling.” And she’d been left here on her own. Struggling to pick up the pieces. It was obvious she wasn’t used to asking for or accepting help.
“Yeah, it sounded like they had some trouble in the town where she lived, people found out she was a Little and were cruel to her. So he brought her here.”
The cabin was cozy, but it wasn’t really safe for a woman alone to be living here. There was a lot of work that needed doing. Archer didn’t know much about construction work, but there were patches where the floor was soft and when he’d had a chance to look outside earlier, he’d thought the roof looked like it needed replacing.
No, not a place he’d ever allow a woman under his protection to live.
“What are you going to do?”
Isaac sighed. “Maybe she’s not ready for someone else. It’s not like pushing for this to go anywhere is a smart move. She lives hours away from me.”
“Three hours, Issy. That’s not insurmountable.”
Isaac narrowed his gaze at him. “Maybe I’m not ready.”
“Wait…let me go check if pigs are flying right now.” He pretended to stand.
“Oh, shut up, you smart ass,” his brother muttered.
“She’s exactly your type, Issy.”
His brother raised an eyebrow. “She’s nothing like Evelyn.”
“No, thank God,” Archer muttered.
“She was more your type.”
Now Archer’s temper stirred. “So my type is a back-stabbing bitch? That’s kind of you, brother.” He sighed. “Seriously, Issy, she’s perfect for you. She’s sweet and submissive, but she’d got some bite to her, so she won’t let you get away with Issy-shit.”