Chapter Twenty-Seven
The first morning Archer was officially free from his duties as Zoey’s bodyguard, he went out for coffee while she swam laps. He didn’t even bother to set the house alarm when he left. Living dangerously.
Archer stood in line at The Green Bean and caught sight of Alec, one of Patch’s bodyguards, standing in line.
“Hey,” Alec said. “Heard you’re between jobs now.”
“Yeah, I’m going to check in with my agency. I believe I’m headed to Asia next.”
“Whoa! You still travel a lot, do you?”
“Zoey was actually only my second assignment.”
“Seriously? You look like you were born to do this work.”
He shrugged. “She made it easy.”
“Zoey doesn’t make anything easy.” Alec coughed. “That girl has a mind of her own. And if you tell Patch I said that, I’ll deny it.”
Archer chuckled. “When I went to work for Ian, I’d just recovered from an accident in the Middle East. I’m basically trying to get my bearings being a civilian again.”
“You were over there training their troops?”
“One of the last to leave.” Archer nodded, leaving out the part where he’d left his foot behind.
“Let me share something with you. If you ever get tired of traveling and want to settle down and get married or something, people like Patch always need bodyguards. Anyone in the public eye, basically. Athletes, musicians, reality TV stars, any kind of celebrity. It’s good, steady work, and the travel is minimal.
You wind up getting close to your assignments.
I’m sure I’ll be invited to Zoey’s wedding one day.
It’s like you become part of the family.
A great place to be.” The barista passed Alec his coffee and he took a sip.
“It’s probably good for me to gain more experience first. Maybe someday that will be a good fit for me,” Archer said. “Good to know.”
“Keep in touch.” With that, Alec slipped Archer his business card and left.
A short while later, Archer let himself back into Zoey’s house, carrying her beloved pumpkin spice latte and his own plain coffee.
She rushed out of her bedroom, having changed into jeans and a shirt.
“You’re here.” She looked surprised, her eyes wide.
“You didn’t think I would leave without officially saying goodbye.” Triumphantly, he plunked both cups down on the kitchen counter. “Pumpkin spice latte, and I asked for the extra pump. Remembered this time.”
“You’re leaving just when I’ve got you trained,” Zoey said.
Archer snorted. “You have me trained?”
“You’re the perfect man and now you’re leaving me.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go, but you don’t need me anymore.”
“Says who?”
Zoey moved closer to him, and he smelled the enticing scent of her lotion or shampoo or whatever she used from the products she carried at the store. Like flowers and vanilla and sugar.
“The agency. You know the drill.”
“I know you don’t work for me anymore.” She stopped two steps in front of him, and now the flowery scent enveloped him. “Which means, you know, being with me doesn’t mean you’re violating an oath or crossing a line.”
He knew exactly what she meant and where this seemed to be headed, yet he found himself stammering, “W-what do you mean?”
“You can kiss me as many times as you want. You can do a lot more than kiss me.” Then she reached for him, taking a fistful of his shirt and pulling him the rest of the way to her.
He kissed her then, not expecting this, not prepared for any of it. But he would fall into this place with her, which felt natural and easy. She wasn’t wrong; no ethics prevented them from finally following through on this attraction that had been brewing between them for weeks.
“Zoey,” he said, cupping her beautiful face in his hands. “Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent,” she said with a smile, and took his hand, pulling him toward her bedroom. “Let me show you how much.”
“But I can’t promise you anything. I can’t start a relationship. My next job is going to take me to Asia soon, and I’ve no idea how long I’ll be gone.”
“Well, as long as ‘soon’ doesn’t mean ‘right now,’ we have time.”
He eagerly followed her into her bedroom, a place he’d never seen before except from the outside patio area. Double French doors led to her backyard garden, and they were closed now, the blinds drawn.
Archer reached for Zoey, pulled her close, kissing her deeply until they both broke apart for air. He’d never touched softer skin, never felt that he would jump out of his own. All worries of intimacy were gone.
“This is going to be good,” she said. Then she pulled off her top and revealed a plunging red satin bra. He nearly swallowed his tongue.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
* * *
Hours later, Zoey lay wrapped in Archer’s strong arms. Being with him was better than she could have ever imagined.
While they could be together now, it also meant he would be taking a job sending him far away for God knew how long.
Just her luck to find the perfect man for her and have to watch him leave. Love just wasn’t in the cards for her.
“Zoey.” Behind her, Archer pulled her closer to him and whispered into her neck. “I have an idea.”
“You’re not going to Asia?” She shut her eyes. “That’s a great idea. Stupendous.”
Make a wish, Zoey. Close your eyes and make a wish.
Not just on birthdays, but anytime Zoey wanted something, her mother had encouraged her to make a wish.
But her mami’s magical thinking wouldn’t work here.
This was Adulting 101. Real life. Messy and raw and imperfect.
You didn’t always get what you wanted because you wished for it.
Zoey first learned magical thinking didn’t work when Mami’s doctors had told them that no further treatment would extend her life.
“I have a few days off before I have to go to Asia,” Archer said.
She turned in his arms. “You do?”
“My boss seems to think since I never had a day off on this assignment, I should take a few days for myself. Tie up any loose ends at home since I might be gone for months.”
Oh my God. Months?
He was going to meet some beautiful woman over there, get married and bring her home with him. Zoey would be heartbroken, but there would be nothing she could do if he fell in love. She would have to encourage and support it, or be called a hypocrite.
“Am I a loose end?” She winked, trying to make light of this.
“You’re not. But I’d like to spend more time with you, you know, and…do some more of this.” He rolled on top of her, keeping his weight off, kissing her shoulder.
“Yes, I accept,” she said, biting her lower lip. “Let’s do this every day and night until you have to go. I want you to remember me and remember me well.”
“There’s absolutely no chance I’m ever going to forget anything about you.”
Then he kissed her again, trailing sweet and hot kisses down her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. He worshipped her body and she worshipped his, and it was hours before they thought about anything else.
“I’ll be back for dinner,” Archer said at the door.
It was difficult to leave, Zoey clinging to him in her silky bathrobe when he knew she wasn’t wearing anything else under there. He wished he didn’t believe in a damn thing called ethics—they could have been doing this all along.
“We only have a few days, so I don’t want to waste any time,” she said. “I’ll close the shop early.”
“What are you going to tell them about me?” He’d been in every day, never getting a day off unless she did.
“I’m going to tell them that we had a huge fight, a disagreement over the window display, and I fired you!” She said all this speaking into his neck.
“Okay, sure. Whatever works.” With great reluctance, he pulled himself away, because if he didn’t, they were going to wind up in bed again.
After one last kiss, he headed out the door and climbed into his sedan. He drove the thirty minutes to his condo in Houston, arriving to find only a few pieces of random advertising scattered outside his door. His mail had been redirected to a post office box.
Archer closed the door and surveyed his apartment with more of a critical eye after having stayed at Zoey’s.
Hers was a home; his was a station, an in-between place.
Half of his stuff was still in boxes, except for the TV and cooking essentials.
Packing would be easy. He’d learned to travel light over the years.
It was time to check in with the folks and let them know he’d be gone again, this time farther away and for much longer.
His father picked up in his usual way, now that he had decided to pay for caller ID. “Bon Giorno, mio.”
“Hey, Pops. How are you?”
“It is my knee this time. The doctor says he has to replace. Is the job over? Tu Madre wants to know if you’re coming home for Christmas.”
Damn. It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d likely be in Asia at Christmastime. His parents were going to have a fit.
“I don’t know yet,” Archer said. “I’m going to Asia now. A diplomat there needs a team of agents. It’s a good opportunity and I was given the job.”
He never told his parents about the way he’d screwed up his first assignment. Pride kept him from doing so, but even more than that, he never wanted his folks to worry.
His father groaned. “And I will be the one to have to tell your madre.”
“I’ll tell her,” Archer said, not looking forward to it.
He kept thinking about Zoey and how much she would love to have another Christmas with her mother. Archer was going to squander yet another Christmas away from his family for the sake of a job.
His father sighed deeply. “Well, at least you are not in a war zone.”
It reminded him of when his father had said, “At least you did not lose your entire leg.” Always the optimist, his dad.
When he had a headache, he’d say, “At least I don’t have a brain tumor.
” If he got the flu, he’d say, “at least I don’t have cancer.
” Archer figured he’d inherited his father’s sense of what counted as doom and what didn’t.
And whenever you had a breath left in your body, no matter how bad things were, there was hope.
“Right,” Archer said. “Look on the bright side.”
“How is the foot?”
“Much better. I’m getting used to it. Believe it or not, it’s starting to feel like a part of me.”
Joey had helped. He’d reminded Archer of how blessed they both were to have the technology available to them. They could both live full lives.
This morning, he’d forgotten he was missing his foot.
Amazingly, the lack of his foot did not at all affect his ability to have sex with a beautiful woman.
Turned out, he didn’t need the foot for that extracurricular activity, and was doing just fine without it.
Zoey had been great and accepting of it all, never making a big deal out of it.
To think he worried she’d feel sorry for him.
Like him, she hadn’t missed his foot. She’d been far more concerned about another part of his anatomy.
“Anyway, Pops, I should go. I have to start packing up the apartment. I may as well give up my lease.”
“Before you go, here is your mother.”
Seconds away from a clean getaway!
“Hey, Mama.”
“There is a job here you could do. There are a lot of them. I looked, I asked.”
“Here we go again.”
“Do not say no until you hear! There is a Christmas tree farm looking for workers.”
A Christmas tree farm? Archer sighed. He didn’t even own a single flannel shirt.
“Ma, I really like my job.”
“But it sound dangerous!”
“It’s not.”
He talked with his mother for a few minutes and assured her he’d get home to his small town in Connecticut soon, then hung up before she could bring up the subject of Asia.
He didn’t want to argue with his folks, but this was his life, and he had to live it on his own terms. There was no way he could go home after the adrenaline-fueled life he’d led and be a tree farmer.
Archer took off his prosthesis, hopped in the shower, changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and went through his paperwork to find his lease agreement and the contact information. Before he could dial his landlord, the doorbell rang.
Strange, he never had company.
Maybe the landlord was here, which would make this a whole lot easier.
To his surprise, when he opened the door, Patch Lambert was standing there.