“Is there a light switch?”
I point past his head. “There’s a chain you can pull over there.”
He steps into the closet, and I remain on the outside, not brave enough to enter the space, even accompanied by the magic ass.
He tugs on the cord, and the space lights up.
Wrappers and bits of plastic are strewn all over the floor, along with something that might be flour or sugar. There are tracks in it.
Archer crouches and points to one perfect little handprint.
“Raccoon.”
I groan. “Those thieving little bastards.”
He chuckles, standing, and I smack him on the arm. “It’s not funny. I should have guessed. They were romping through the trash up at the house the other night. How did they get in here?”
“They can fit in surprisingly small spaces. We’ll have to check outside for where he got in.”
I cover my face with a hand. It’s always something.
He stands and walks toward me, rubbing the outsides of my arms with warm palms. “It will be fine.”
I shouldn’t do it. But it’s like I’m not even in control of my body. I lean into him.
His arms open immediately, cocooning me in warmth.
I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat and relishing the heat of him.
It’s wrong to be using him like this, for affection and consolation, when I’ve been avoiding him and being a total jerk. Is he only putting up with me because of Oliver and what he wants?
I step back out of the circle of his embrace and immediately feel chilled. “Sorry.”
His arms drop to his sides. “It’s not a problem.”
I wrap my arms around myself.
“We should check outside.” He heads out the front door without waiting.
I take a deep breath and follow.
I find him around back. He’s leaning over near the foundation, and he stands as I approach. “There’s an entry point here.” He gestures down at a spot low in the siding that’s gone soft and has broken apart. “I think you scared him away for now. I’ll close this off with some plywood from the shed. But it stinks pretty bad in there. Our little buddy may have been using the space between the walls as a toilet.”
I groan and cover my face with my hands. “What do I tell the guests? There’s not enough time to fix this, clean, and air it out before they get here.”
“What about giving them two cabins?”
She shakes her head. “They want one cabin with two beds because they have little kids. I’d hate to cancel; they booked a month ago. We can’t afford bad business.”
He rubs his chin, considering. “They can have my cabin. I have two beds, and everything works fine. It will be easy enough to change the sheets and clean it out.”
“Then where will you sleep?”
Our eyes lock.
“I can stay somewhere in town for the night.”
“Stay up at the house.” The words pop out of my mouth without passing through my brain. “We have plenty of rooms.”