7. Shane

Chapter 7

Shane

Anger flared in Archer’s face. I’d expected it, but my cover-up had seemed like a good idea at the time. And the more I thought about it, the better I felt about it.

“Listen…” I reached up and gripped the back of my neck. “There are only two reasons why I’d have someone upstairs. And unless you want to come clean to your brother about what we were really doing up there, then the only thing I could say was that I wanted to rent the space to you.”

“But now he’s going to think I’ve got a plan worked out or some shit. I don’t have money to rent anything—that’s why I’m on his couch. That’s why I don’t have a fucking shop. My former business partner cleaned me out.”

Archer’s tone was sharp and desperate. Completely different from the man he’d been a few minutes ago. His confidence had faded and in its place was uncertainty. Fear. Panic.

“I can’t undo what he did, but maybe I can help in a more tangible way than blowing off steam.” I glanced around. The parking lot behind my bar wasn’t the best place for this conversation. “Did you want to come inside and talk in my office?”

“I want to shove my boot up your ass,” Archer snapped, but it lacked any seriousness. His shoulders slumped and he sighed. “But in lieu of violence, I should at least hear whatever insane scheme you’ve cooked up in the past twenty-five seconds. Cyrus is bound to have no less than seventy questions later.”

Some of the fire had bled out of Archer, but I guessed it had less to do with his anger decreasing and more to do with him being too tired to argue. The way fatigue etched his features was hard to miss. I wasn’t smug enough to think fucking me had taken it all out of him, but it certainly hadn’t helped.

I ushered him in through the back and into my office. It wasn’t anything to write home about. I hadn’t decorated it beyond bringing in the essentials—a desk, comfortable furniture, and filing cabinets even though most things were digital now.

Archer collapsed into a chair and set his bag down by his feet. “So what’s your grand plan?”

“Exactly what I told Cyrus outside. I rent you the upstairs. It’s got a bedroom you can lock to keep the public out. A kitchen, a bathroom, and the living space could be set up for you to work in. Is it ideal? Probably not. Hell, I’ve never owned a tattoo shop. I don’t even know if it could work. I’ll also have to check with zoning and shit to see if we’re even allowed to have a business upstairs.” There were more moving parts to this than when I’d first blurted it out, but it wasn’t a bad plan. It would get Kieran off my back about renting the space. Even if I had to waive the rent for the first little while. It’s not like Kieran would know.

“Did you miss the part when I said I have no money?”

Disclosing my financial windfall wasn’t a thing I normally did, but I felt the situation called for it. “How much has Cyrus told you about me?”

Archer furrowed his brows. “That you’re his boss. His friend.”

I nodded. “Six years ago, I was digging in my couch for spare change to buy ramen. I was the definition of living paycheck to paycheck. Then, I had this one really good day and I said you know what, I should buy a lottery ticket. And boom, I won. I won an obscene amount of money, Archer. It’s not something I hide, but I don’t exactly advertise it. I did all the things I always said I would. I paid off my brother’s student loans. I got my mom a house. I looked after my younger brother. I bought a bar.”

“Fuck off. That’s… no shit?”

“No shit.” I grinned at Archer’s incredulous expression.

“I feel like there’s a catch.”

“No catch. I do this a lot. Previously, the upstairs had been rented by my bartender Mickey.”

“Cyrus told me about him.” Archer ran his fingers through his hair, disturbing the dark strands.

“I didn’t charge him what it’s worth either. I charged him what he could afford. The space is empty. Kieran, my brother and money manager, wants me to rent it out.”

Archer let out a laugh. “I’m sure this isn’t what he had in mind.”

“Probably not, but I won the money, not him. He helps people by helping me not go broke so I can continue to help people. We can draw up a contract if you want, and I’ll take a certain percentage of your profits until you’ve established yourself. At which point we can discuss continuing your lease of the space. I won’t hold you here if you find a place that’s better suited to your needs, but I also won’t make you leave if you want to stay.”

“What’s in it for you?”

I shrugged. “Besides getting Kieran off my ass? Nothing. It would make Cyrus happy to see you getting back on your feet. He’s been worried.”

I didn’t mind divulging that to Archer. I didn’t think it was a secret.

“And he had nothing to do with this? ”

“Like what? Asking me to offer you the upstairs? Definitely not. Cyrus knows his place is in the kitchen and not in my business.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “And anything else we did had shit to do with him too. I let you fuck me because I wanted it, Archer.”

I still did, but I didn’t want to say that. Not when I was trying to negotiate with him. I didn’t want it to seem like sex was part of the deal.

“I have to think about this. I know it’s a great deal, and that I’d be an idiot to turn it down. I don’t even know if the space would work.”

Opening my desk drawer, I grabbed the spare set of keys and tossed them on the desk. “The silver key is for the back door. The brass key is for the apartment. Take a few days to think about it. If you want it, it’s yours. If not, you can bring the keys back here and I’ll tell Cyrus that it wasn’t zoned properly to have a business upstairs.”

“Which it might not be.”

“I’m about ninety-seven percent sure we’ll be good to go, but I’ll check on that today and let you know.” My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten yet today. “Were you hungry? Cyrus could whip something up for us.”

“No, ah… I’m going to go.” Archer scooped the keys off the desk and stuffed them into his pocket. “Thanks for today. For all of it.”

He glanced away, unable to hold my gaze for too long. That was fine. I wasn’t going to hold it against him.

It wasn’t that I regretted offering him the upstairs unit. It solved both our problems. But now that I had, a repeat with him would be inappropriate. Which fucking sucked. Archer had been a beast. I could still feel him on my skin, in my body. I wanted to strip naked and examine my hips for bruises. Oh well, some things were more important than sex.

“I’ll be in touch.” Archer let himself out before I could respond .

The enormity of what I’d done slammed into me the minute he walked out of my office. Cyrus was one of my best friends, and an employee I could ill afford to lose. He was the backbone of this place. And I’d just taken his brother upstairs and helped him blow off some steam. Which I’m certain wasn’t what had been on Cyrus’s mind when he said Archer needed someone to help him.

Holing up in my office hadn’t been the plan, but I needed some space between Cyrus and me before I’d be able to face him properly. And I had to see about zoning and business licenses and shit. I fired off an email to my insurance agent to double-check my policy. Then I got to work on things I’d been avoiding. Kieran did most of the books for the bar, but I still liked to know what was going on.

After bringing my accounts up to date, I knew I couldn’t hide anymore. Cyrus was in the kitchen prepping for the dinner rush. Walking in there had me sweating like I was on the way to face the firing squad. Even though I’d provided a perfectly reasonable explanation about what we were doing upstairs, I still fully expected Cyrus to make some creative threats involving knives and hiding body parts.

He saw me enter and waved me over to his prep station. Cyrus’s knife skills were out of this world and I’d admit to a tendril of fear keeping me from getting too close. Not that he’d actually hurt me, but it was better safe than sorry.

“Did you seriously offer Archer the upstairs for his shop?” Cyrus asked.

Shrugging, I replied, “It’s not like I’m using it. Mickey’s moved in with Ethan and Kieran was getting on my case the other day about letting it sit empty. I’m waiting to hear about zoning and insurance and stuff, but I have a good feeling we’ll be able to make it work.”

“Marshall and I were talking about selling our house and getting a bigger place. Something with a spare bedroom. ”

“You love your house. You and Marshall put hundreds of hours into renovating it.”

Cyrus sighed. “Yes, but it’s one bedroom and up until Archer came to stay, it was the perfect size.”

“Cyrus, don’t sell your house. I don’t know Archer that well, but I know he’d hate himself if you did that. Even if the tattoo shop can’t happen, the apartment is still his.”

“He can’t pay rent, Shane.” Cyrus waved his knife in the air, blanched, and set it down.

“Let him and me worry about that. You know I’m not hurting for cash, and you know why.”

Cyrus eyed me skeptically before eventually letting out a sigh. He grabbed his knife and went back to chopping. “If it were anyone else but you, I’d tell Archer that if it sounded too good to be true, it was. And I’d tell him to run the other way.”

He scoffed and his chopping became more aggressive. “Not that he’d listen to me anyway. I told him not to go into business with his friend. That the quickest way to ruin a friendship was to either become roommates or business partners. But Archer does what Archer wants. Always has.”

“It’s not like he wanted the guy to clean him out.” I knew Cyrus was just venting his frustrations, but I was compelled to stick up for Archer. I’d gotten a glimpse behind the curtain. Archer was tough, but even the strongest walls tended to crack eventually. And Archer had moments when he seemed fragile. One more wrong move, one more hit, and he might crumble.

“I love my brother, Shane, and it makes me feel like an asshole, but I really hope he takes you up on the offer for the apartment. One way or another. I’ve loved being able to help him, but all he’s done since he arrived is slink around town avoiding me. I swear we talked more before he moved here.”

I could empathize with Cyrus. I’d gone through similar things with my younger brother, Brodie. I realized I hadn’t heard from the youngest Taggart in a while and made a mental note to reach out to him soon.

“Everything will work out, Cyrus.” I squeezed his shoulder then told him I was going out front to get shit ready to open. Truthfully, I needed a minute when I wasn’t thinking about—or talking about—Archer. My body needed a moment to cool down, because every time I thought about him, my skin itched to be touched by him again. Already I wanted to track him down and beg him to take me again.

But now that I’d gone and invited him to run a business in my building, that probably had to come to an end. I tried to think of that as a good thing, but I did a shit job at convincing myself that I was better off this way.

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