Chapter Ten Remi #2
I yanked out another box. “That’s where my list makes sense, Vanessa.
Because then you know if someone’s going to be horrible.
You have time to figure it out. I don’t have or want that time with Archer because he’s a dick.
” I pinched my eyes shut and pressed my hands to my face before letting them drop on the table.
“Except it would be great if he wasn’t actually an asshole, because I don’t want him to be an asshole.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with him. ”
All the blood in my poor little body flooded my cheeks, and there was no stopping it, especially when I clocked the pitying expression on Ness’s face.
“What?” I snapped.
With her mouth set in a firm line, she reached and gave me a condescending pat on the head. “I wasn’t talking about sex, babe. I meant for the shelter. You could be using him for social media reach and it would be amazing publicity.”
“Oh.”
She wheezed. Absolutely wheezed. As my best friend tried to get her cackling under control, I calmly unpacked the rest of the formula and moved it over to the cabinets in the back corner of the conference room.
“Are you quite finished?”
Ness wiped her hand under her eyes. “Yes, I think I am. Holy shit, I wish I was filming. I’d replay that every night before I went to bed.”
“I hate you.”
“No, sweet pea, you really don’t.”
I scoffed, lifting one of the bags of senior dog food under my arm and marching it toward the kennel room. The dogs barked happily at my entrance, and I smiled to see Bandit wagging his tail a little when I came through.
As I turned the corner, I was greeted by the sight of Archer Evans’s exceptional ass just as he straightened.
I tripped over a ledge in the concrete, but with no hands free, I resigned myself to a face-plant on the kennel floor at his feet, and then I’d never be able to look him in the eye again.
Except I didn’t fall.
Because he caught me.
His hands, big and strong, caught me right around the upper arms just as I pitched forward. “Whoa, steady.” Archer helped me up as I got my feet under me, then took the thirty-pound bag of food once they were. “You okay?”
I rubbed my arms where he’d grabbed me. “Yeah, great.”
He set the bag of food on top of the stack he’d already started, his face unreadable as he turned back in my direction. My chest was heaving from the almost-catastrophe, and with the flimsy barrier of my trusted denim shirt gone, I braced myself for his eyes to drop. But they never did.
They stayed right on my face.
“Was it you?” I blurted out. “All of this. Did you order it?”
I didn’t mean to ask. The words just tumbled right out.
Something in my locked-up subconscious had unlocked with my little ramble to Ness.
Even though I hated what he’d done, even though he’d been an absolute dick when he showed up, there was still some ridiculous part of me that wanted him to be a good person.
So I could look my son in the face and say, Yeah, he was worthy of the jersey and all the stats you memorized and the game clips you watched.
So I could tell him that I understood why he idolized this man so much.
So I could admit to myself that my harsh treatment toward him had as much to do with me, and how I felt seeing him again, as it did with him. It would be like swallowing sandpaper to give that admission ground, but I wanted to feel the burn.
I wanted to be wrong about him.
“No,” he said, voice slow and deep. “I didn’t order it.”
I felt the color drain from my face. “Oh. Okay.”
Archer’s brow wrinkled. “There was no note or anything?”
Slowly, I shook my head. “No. The delivery driver didn’t have any information on where it came from either.”
“A mystery.”
Even though it was hard—what with the almost-falling and the nipples visible through my tank top—I held his gaze. “There seems to be a lot of that going around. It would be nice to know what to expect once in a while.”
Archer’s eyes flickered, but before he could say anything, my phone rang.
I sighed, pulling it out of my back pocket. “This is Remi.”
“Remi, it’s Nora. I am so, so sorry to do this, but I can’t watch Gavin today when he gets off the bus. Michael just came home sick from school. He’s throwing up, and if I’m being honest, I don’t feel great, either, and I’d hate to get him sick if he’s around Pops at all this week.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Of course. No, I understand. I don’t want him to get sick either.” The clock on the wall told me I had about forty-five minutes before G got home, and my mind started racing through options. “I’ll find someone else to watch him, don’t worry about it. Just feel better.”
“Thanks, I’ll try.”
“Do you want me to bring you some chicken noodle soup?” I asked.
“No.”
I blinked at the rushed tone. “Oh. Okay.”
She cleared her throat. “I mean, no thank you. You’re so sweet to offer, though.”
“Sure. Thanks for letting me know.”
With a whispered curse, I disconnected the call, my eyes falling shut as I realized I was either going to leave the shelter shorthanded, or Gavin would have to spend another evening here, which I tried not to do too often, especially on a later night like this one, when I’d hardly get home before he needed to be in bed. “Shit,” I said one more time.
“Everything okay?” Archer asked.
“No. My neighbor was supposed to watch my son, and she can’t.” I gave him a quick look. “He doesn’t mind having to hang out here every once in a while, but I like him to stay on a routine at home if I can help it.”
“How old is he?”
“Ten.”
Archer took a deep breath. “I have someone who can watch him.”
My brows lowered. “What do you mean?”
“Babysitter. She’s first-aid certified. Knows CPR and all that shit.”
I blinked. “How old is she?”
“Seventeen.”
“Who is it?”
The heavy skepticism in my voice made his lips curl up in an amused grin. “You don’t trust me?”
I snorted. “Hardly.”
“What’s your address?”
“I didn’t say yes.”
He cocked a brow. “You didn’t say no, either, did you, boss?”
“Do not call me that.”
Archer smirked. “I can’t call you Red. Can’t call you boss. What nicknames can I use?”
“None.”
His eyes traced over my face. “We’ll find one. What’s your address? I’ll go get her.”
“Go get her?”
He nodded. “She doesn’t love driving.”
I crossed my arms. “I thought your license was provisional. Only your hours and work.”
Archer adopted an innocent expression. “It’s for you. Doesn’t that count as my hours?”
When I mumbled under my breath, he let out a brief chuckle.
“Fine. Only because I’m desperate.” I rattled off my address, watching his expression as he typed it into his Maps app.
It was a humble home in a humble neighborhood, but I would not apologize for where we lived.
“It better not be some underage football groupie who answers to your beck and call because she’s not allowed to sleep with you. ”
Archer gave me an unamused look.
“What? How am I supposed to know?”
“Trust me,” he said.
I crossed my arms over my chest and breathed through a wave of anxiety because I just knew I was about to do something really stupid.
“Fine. But don’t make me regret it.”