Chapter 15 Silk and Lies #2
Gone was the casual, flannel-wearing guy from earlier today. He stood on the stoop in a blue suit, with a bouquet of pink roses in one hand, snow freckling his hair.
“Penny? Small world. Are you a friend of Bree’s?”
I opened my mouth, a hundred warnings tangling for the exit, but Brianne slid by like a snake.
“Stepsister.” She looped her arm through his and whisked him away. “Are those roses for me? Pink is my favorite. I’m starving. Where are you taking me?”
He glanced back at me once, bemused, and soon they were off in his Lincoln Navigator.
I turned slowly to my mother. Speechless.
Her hands pressed to her chest. “Oh, but he’s charming, isn’t he? And a nine. Loaded. We researched his background after they met yesterday at the grocery store when he asked her how to tell a ripe melon. Brianne deserves a nine. Leave it to Steele Valley to provide.”
I found my voice. “How could you let her back in after all the drama she caused in our family, not to mention in your marriage with her father?”
Near the end of it, Brianne had played on her father’s emotions, begging him to reconcile with her mother for the sake of her children, so they’d know and see their grandparents together.
Mom’s face pulled taut in a familiar way. “I forgave her. She was young, going through so much because of Archer. People change.”
I couldn’t breathe another minute in her presence. I stepped out and slammed the door behind me before I said something I’d regret.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I drove back to the resort. I tried calling Brier on the way, but she didn’t answer. I knew Westley was visiting again this weekend. They were probably out.
The only other person I could think of talking to was Archer.
What about Mom’s version of Brianne and Archer’s story through? Intended or not, she’d planted a seed of doubt. I questioned what I thought I knew. Could I trust what she insinuated? Could I trust him?
The Steele Valley Resort glowed like a snow palace against the night.
For the first time ever in my life, I valet-parked.
Inside, I checked my ivory wool coat and was absurdly grateful I’d overdressed for the lodge tour today.
I would fit right in at the resort tonight in my camel-colored cashmere sweater dress and knee-high dark brown suede boots.
I made a beeline through the exquisite lobby for the ladies’ room. “Just breathe, Penny,” I whispered, sinking into a chair and inhaling through my nose, pushing the air back out through my mouth. I smoothed my hands over the soft cashmere.
I’d promised myself I’d buy the pricey item when I had a career and a decent paycheck. My first Bellamy check had hit, and I deposited it at my Fifth Avenue Bank—then wandered into a fall sale on cashmere next door like it was meant to be. Dream achieved.
I had Archer to thank.
Tonight, sumptuous fabric played both armor against my past, and proof that I deserved everything I worked hard for now and in my future. Would Archer fit in to my plans?
I knew he’d said something about cigars, and the resort had a cigar lounge. Taking a chance I’d find him, I wove through the lobby, down a hall, and into Smokes. A tall, slim hostess greeted me.
“Hi. I’m looking for someone who was supposed to be here tonight.
Archer Bellamy?” I chewed my cheek, already worrying about telling him the Brianne news.
Just when I thought I could put his broken pieces back together, she showed up again—now with Holden.
And what about Mom’s “truth” about their past?
“Yes. This way.” She gestured for me to follow. I swallowed hard. Too late to turn back now.
The bar hummed with conversation, low jazz piping in. I eyed the dark wood, leather chairs, and crystal glasses filled with expensive liquor. Archer wasn’t expecting me. For a beat, I wondered if I should have come, completely out of place here in the lap of luxury.
Then he spotted me as I approached. His expression shifted. The public mask eased, a warm smile cutting through.
“Penny. You’re here.” He stood and hugged me. I’d never liked smoky air, but the spicy trace of an expensive cigar on his suit turned out to be an aphrodisiac.
“Hi.” Relief filled me and lingered when he didn’t let go right away.
He took my hand with quiet certainty and drew me into the circle at his table. “Penny, meet Junior Steele and his wife, Angel.” He gestured to a gorgeous pair, who waved, gracious and poised.
The Junior Steele. Son of the billionaire who built the resort and the valley. He’d inherited it, and ran it better, building it bigger than his dad ever had. The same family who’d given my mother the loan to start her shop.
I could hardly believe I stood here among small town royalty—accepted as if an equal.
“This is Luc Delfino, and his wife Emily,” Archer added. More welcoming smiles from them.
“Sit here with me.” Archer pulled out a chair and tucked me in.
Emily’s eyes sparkled. “We tried to set him up tonight, but now I see why he wasn’t interested. Lovely to meet you.”
Junior chuckled. “Bellamy’s finally off the market. Here, here.” Glasses clinked.
Off the market… With me?
Archer appraised me, the room narrowing to just us. “Maybe I am,” he winked, then nuzzled my neck and whispered, “You’re fired.”
Butterflies somersaulted in my stomach. Fired had never sounded so good.
I should take him aside and tell him—about Holden on my mother’s stoop with roses, about Brianne’s new name and old tricks, about the doubts Mom put in my head.
Not tonight, though. The horror of home still rattled me, but Archer’s hand, warm over mine on my thigh, grounded me. We were in public together, no hiding. Archer admired me openly, freed to be himself, far from the city and anyone who’d make it complicated.
Emily laughed through a story about a charity ball they’d attended.
Junior told a story about Angel recently rescuing a cat from a tree on Main Street in four-inch heels and starting a charity drive for the local pet population.
For the first time among people like this, I didn’t feel like the dress-shop girl peeking through glass.
They’d included me without question—like I’d stepped into a version of my life where I belonged beside the man I wanted.
Later, when glasses were empty, cigars smoked to stubs, we said our goodbyes.
Junior shook my hand and wished me well. “Hang on to Archer. He’s one of the good guys.” He winked as we left. Hard to reconcile this man with my mom’s “crooked Steele family” complaints.
I held it together until we were in the elevator, rising to the suite. Alone at last, I sighed and turned into Archer’s arms. My cheek found his chest; his strong heartbeat played in my ear.
“I enjoy my friends and colleagues, but all night I kept checking my watch, biding my time until I could text you. Then you walked in. So beautiful. So very fired,” he chuckled low and amused.
He tipped my chin and kissed me. Bourbon and smoke on his lips, and then his tongue, the taste of him obliterating my worries for a second. The last thing I wanted was my family drama ruining what we’d started. Not now, not after a night where I’d actually felt like I belonged.
He walked me to his suite, his arm around my shoulder. Words gathered again on my tongue. Holden and Bree and my mother and history… I turned into him at the door, a whole avalanche of truth perched on the tip of it.
He kissed me before a syllable slipped out, hands sliding around my waist. I found his lapels and held on tight. I had to believe this was real. Something this good couldn’t be wrong. Archer wouldn’t have left Brianne in the lurch. No—she’d broken his heart, not the other way around.
His forehead rested against mine. “Fucking missed you all day. I couldn’t look at you at the lodge without getting hard. Without fear someone would see how much I wanted you.” With one arm locked around my waist, he lifted me straight up and carried me inside.
“I missed you, too.” I whispered against his mouth.
We barely made two steps in before my back hit the door, his body covering mine, kisses urgent. The world fell away with our clothes until there was only the hot press of him through my slick seam—skin on skin, hard and deep, rough and needy.
“Yes, Archer. More—faster.” I wanted him to erase the melodrama. Tomorrow I’d tell him. Tonight, I wanted us. And I prayed the news wouldn’t break him again.
The scent of his cologne mixed with cigars and desire, wrapped around me, dizzying.
A chorus rose around us, the sounds of our bodies in motion, our breathing out of control, moans and cries and fuck yes.
The creaking door, too, taking every thrust of our bodies, until his growl echoed off the suite walls as his cum filled me up inside.
We weren’t done yet. He carried me to the bed, for more.
Tomorrow I’d face the truth. But tonight, I chose this—his hands, his heart, the possibility of happily-ever-after blinding me from anything that could break us apart.