“I can take it from here.”
He nods and sets it on the stoop next to us. We should go inside. He needs to get his things and go back to his cabin, but then he’ll leave, this night will be over, and I’m not in any hurry for this . . . whatever this is to end.
The porch lights are off, but muted light escapes through the windows and glass of the door. Wisps of canned laughter and voices filter into the air around us. No doubt Jacob fell asleep with the TV on again.
“Thank you for dinner and the ride and everything.” My gratitude feels weak in the face of everything he’s done today, not to mention the past couple of weeks.
“Of course.”
We gaze at each other for a few long seconds that stretch into a minute.
I should go inside. Say goodnight. I’ve already said thank you, so there’s no reason for us to stay out here together, and yet . . . I make no moves to go inside.
He steps a fraction closer. “What are we doing?” His voice is whispered, a secret shared in the shadows.
“We’re just two friends, standing outside. Don’t friends do that?”
The corner of his mouth lifts, a smudge of movement in the darkness. “I don’t know. You stand around with all your friends, having intimate moments under the stars?”
“Maybe I want to.” I can’t look away from his shadowed face. What is he thinking? “But there are a lot of reasons why it’s a bad idea.”
“I’m leaving next week.”
My heart picks up a dull, thudding beat in my chest. “Next week?” I can’t stop the surprise from leaching into my tone.
“I have work to attend to in Florida. Before then, hopefully, we’ll find a resolution for you and Oliver.”
I can’t even think about Oliver right now. Archer is leaving. I knew it was coming. Of course he can’t stay here forever, but the thought still stings. It must be because I will miss the free labor. That’s it: his ability to clean and work, not his easygoing nature, not his smile, not the way he listens or the way he’s watching me now, with heat in his dark gaze.
“I’m glad that you came,” I whisper.
“Are you?”
“I am. We’re . . .” I fumble for words. “We’re friends, right?”
“I would like that.”
I nod. It’s for the best. He’s leaving. His life is elsewhere. He’s rich, obviously attractive. He could have anyone he wants. Why the hell would he choose me? With my messed-up family, emotional baggage, and millions of obligations. I haven’t been able to have any kind of real relationship, oh, you know,ever.
Archer steps back, shoving his hands into his pockets, regarding me from a safer distance.
I immediately miss his closeness.
What am I doing? I want him, but I can’t risk it.
It sure feels like a good idea, here in the dark after a glass of wine, but how will I feel in the morning? How will I feel once he’s gone?
I don’t know. I already feel like I’ve lost.
We go inside. He gets his bag. We say goodnight, using pat expressions to avoid deeper feelings. I cover Jacob, who is passed out on the couch, then head upstairs to get ready for bed.
It’s for the best. He’s only been here a week, and he’s already stolen all my righteous anger. Another week and he might crawl up into my heart and steal that too.
ChapterFourteen
Archer
“Will you help me with cabin three?” Finley asks when I answer my door one morning, a few days after our dinner.