“I used to come here a lot,” he breathes, without even taking his eyes off the water. He’s speaking to me, but it feels like he’s a million miles away. “My family and I used to vacation here before my parents died.”
My eyes widen as soon as the understanding washes through me. This isn’t about business to him. Or at least, this isn’t only about business. This is personal for Archer. I’m remembering that little boy I saw in the photos hanging on his walls. I’m imagining him running around on the beach, playing in the water, exploring the wharf when it hits me. “You stayed at The Village at Santa Cruz, didn’t you?”
He drags his eyes back to my face and I can see his thoughts are lost in the past. “Bingo,” he says with a faint smile crossing his lips. “Richard, my uncle, and now you are the only people who know that. I don’t want anyone thinking this is some kind of a sentimental flight of fancy. Yes, I’ve always wanted to bring Santa Cruz a Clarke Hotel, but it also makes business sense.”
I’m not sure why he’s trying to justify himself to me. I think it’s incredibly sweet that he wants to own the piece of land he used to stay on with his family. He’s going to build a high-quality resort so other families can enjoy this beautiful town as he did with his parents.
“That’s wonderful, Archer.” I instinctively reach across the table and cover his large hand with my smaller one. I’ve never heard him speak about his parents before, so I’m sure it’s difficult. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him and all I want to do is hold him and run my fingers through his hair, comforting him. This will have to be enough. “Thank you for sharing that with me. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
The storm clouds that were in his face clear and he flips his hand over so that our hands are laying against each other, palm to palm. He slowly starts weaving his fingers through my own. Yup, we’re holding hands. Is there someone here to take a picture? I want this moment recorded in history. Archer Clarke is holding my hand in the middle of a seafood restaurant in Santa Cruz which we got to this morning via his private jet. What the hell has happened to my life?
We’re both sitting in silence, staring at each other, and holding hands. I don’t say a single word. If I could avoid breathing, I would. I don’t want to risk doing a single thing to ruin this moment. I’m not sure what’s happening, but it’s obvious that Archer feels this thing between us too. It’s then that his thumb caresses my wrist, sending a shiver all the way through my body. Before I can stop myself, a low moan escapes my throat.
Horrified, I pull my hand back, almost knocking over my iced tea. I know that I’m probably blushing from my scalp all the way down to my toes, but there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s a teasing glint in Archer’s eyes that tells me he definitely heard the noise I made. I busy myself with smoothing out my napkin in my lap, making sure that my eyes don’t meet his. It feels like he can see into my soul right now and there’s no way I’m prepared for that.
The waitress interrupts our awkward silence by placing down the dishes. My pasta smells amazing and I grab my fork, ready to dig in. I can’t help it, I love seafood. It’s a good thing I live in Seattle where I have access to a fresh supply of the stuff.
Our conversation goes back to neutral topics for the rest of the meal and I’m almost able to forget the fact that I moaned at him. Almost.
We decide to head back to the hotel. There’ll be some time to get work done and then freshen up before our dinner with Mrs. DuPont later. Archer walks us through the Santa Cruz Boardwalk on the way back to our hotel and it’s honestly one of the coolest places I’ve been. It’s an old school amusement park and, according to Archer, local Santa Cruz nerd, this is the oldest amusement park in California. The boardwalk opened in 1907 and has been in continuous operation since.
Archer guides me through the crowd, occasionally stopping and pointing out something that he loved as a kid. My heart is melting in my chest. Archer Clarke loves Whack-a-Mole. Who would have guessed?
Eventually we come out the other side of the Boardwalk, but we’re both now holding enormous clouds of cotton candy. Archer laughs and tries to steal some of mine, but I smack his hand away. I don’t care how sexy laid-back Archer is, nobody comes between me and carnival snacks.
The sun is beating down on us by the time we make it to the hotel lobby. We ride the elevator up to the fourth floor and both head into our separate rooms with talk of texting when we’re ready to go.
I want nothing more to get out of these clothes that I’ve been schlepping around in all day. Too bad we hadn’t planned on staying here, so I have nothing to change into. Plus, while this outfit would have been appropriate for a business lunch, it’s a little casual for a dinner where we’re going. Maybe there’s a clothing shop nearby that I could run to before our meeting.
More than ever, I want to do everything I can to make sure Archer ends up with this property. Now that I know how personal this is for him, I want to make sure that I make a good impression on Caroline DuPont. I smile to myself as a stretch out across the plush king size bed. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to knock Archer’s socks off either.
Fourteen
archer
I didn’t intend to tell her about vacationing with my parents. In fact, I try to talk about my time here as little as possible. It’s not that the vacations spent here were bad, it’s just the opposite. They are some of the best times I have ever spent with my parents. Even after all these years, it’s still hard to believe that they’re truly gone and that I’m here alone.
When I was sixteen years old, I was a bit of a hellion. I’d already been kicked out of one prep school and was well on my way to getting kicked out of another. I never did anything too wild, but if there was a fight, prank, or scandal happening on campus, you could bet I was in the middle of it.
That day’s suspension was courtesy of a fistfight between me and Freddy Anderson. I never liked Freddy much. Then I found out that he was secretly bullying my best friend. He’s lucky a punch in the face was all he got from me.
I was waiting at home for my parents to return from the school after meeting with the principal. I swore that lady had it out for me. As the afternoon moved into evening, I knew that my parents should have been back already. I just didn’t think about it too closely. I guess I figured they had stopped at the store, or maybe the meeting took longer than expected. You never think that your parents might have died in a horrible, fiery crash while you were sitting at home watching television.
A part of me seems lighter now that I’ve told Hollie about one of my major reasons for wanting this property. I don’t share that part of myself with many people and the fact she seemed to take it all in stride, not accusing me of being a sentimental fool, makes me want to share more with her.
Showing her Santa Cruz today had been a fun and joy-filled experience. I need someone else to love this place as much as I do to help me fight to get it. It’s not like spending time with Hollie is a hardship.
In fact, I haven’t been that light-hearted since I was a kid. Dragging her from shop to shop, teasing her, having my hands on her, it’s the most fun I’ve had all year. I tried not to touch her so much but couldn’t stop myself. With all the people around, part of me wanted to make sure she was safe right there by my side. The other part needed to show those other poor fuckers that were walking around that she was already taken. Well, nottakentaken.
Shit. My protests are sounding weak, even to me. This girl has me in knots.
After parting ways with Hollie this afternoon, I spent some time in my room answering emails. Caroline DuPont rescheduling our meeting threw a monkey wrench in today’s schedule, but I was making it work.
The hour was quickly approaching six, so we needed to get moving if we didn’t want to be late. The restaurant was only a few blocks from the hotel, so I figured we could walk since the weather today was warm and should hold throughout the evening. It’s nothing like Seattle where you automatically bring an umbrella with you everywhere you go because you never know when Mother Nature will decide to rain down upon you.
I leave my room and knock on Hollie’s door, directly adjacent to mine. She opens the door and I’m momentarily struck stupid. I can’t get anything to pass my lips except for the sound of my ragged breathing.
She’s standing in the doorway in a dress that she was definitely not wearing this afternoon. The white dress has off the shoulder sleeves that rest on her upper arms, the skirt flares out slightly before stopping to rest just above her knees. The entire dress is covered in a light floral applique.