Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The House
“I’ve got more homework,” Lenni said, rising from the table. She took her plate to the sink, rinsed it off, and then placed it in the dishwasher. “Thanks for dinner, Wyn.”
She retreated upstairs with Mildred, leaving me and Archer alone.
“You didn’t tell Lenni the entire story,” he said as he began to gather up the empty plates.
“I didn’t?” I asked.
“About why you’re named Wynslow.” He arched a brow. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“You’re right.” I put the lid on the salad dressing. “But like hell I was going to tell an eleven-year-old that I was conceived in the back of a van in Winslow, Arizona. The road trip story was true, though.”
He let out a laugh. “I think I like your parents.”
“They’re pretty cool,” I said with a smile. “They want to meet Lenni.”
“Yeah?”
“Over the phone, I mean.”
“Why?”
“I was having my weekly catch-up session with them, and I was telling them everything that was going on with me. Naturally you and Lenni came up in conversation.”
“I came up in conversation, huh? Did you tell them I’m handsome and have hands like iron?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I told them.” I rolled my eyes and squatted down to the cabinet that had the glass containers.
When I rose, Archer was standing at the stove and he was looking at me, his gaze burning with intensity.
“Are we going to talk about it?” he asked.
“Talk about what?”
“The laminated thing I returned to you.”
“No.” My cheeks flushed. “Let it go, Archie. I’m not telling you.”
He smiled. “I like when you call me Archie. I like it when you say it with such affection, too.”
“There was nothing affectionate in my tone,” I said with a laugh.
“You’re right, it was more of a set down. Putting me in my place. What does that say about me that I like it?”
“That you’re a masochist,” I quipped.
“I’ll let you hurt me good, baby.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Did you like my note?” he asked.
“What note?”
He opened the fridge, pulled out the carton of eggs, and showed me the egg I hadn’t had the heart to crack.
“Huh. Didn’t see it,” I lied. “Cute.”
“I know I am.”
“What are you doing?” I demanded. “Did you dial up the flirting or what?”
“This is my baseline, actually. I toned it down for the first few days. Killed me to do it.”
“Were you trying to lull me into a false sense of security?” I teased.
“Something like that.”
“I see,” I murmured. “Why did you tell Brooks about our chat the other night?”
He paused. “You know about that?”
“You know that whatever you say to your brother, Brooks is going to share it with Poet. You get that right?”
“Now I do. What, does that mean whatever you tell Poet she’ll tell Brooks?”
“No. Doesn’t work that way. Besties before testes.”
“Brooks is my brother,” he stated. “And you’re telling me whatever I tell him, he’s gonna blab it to Poet?”
“Did you tell Brooks he wasn’t allowed to share it with anyone?”
Archer frowned. “No. I just assumed he wouldn’t.”
“Well, you know what they say about assuming.”
“What do they say?”
“Something about donkeys,” I jested. “Really, though. Why did you tell Brooks about a simple conversation we had?”
“It wasn’t so much about you and me,” he said slowly. “It was more about you and me talking about Lenni. That was the important part. I didn’t tell him I was shirtless, holding your dog, or that you looked at me like you wanted to kiss me . . .”
My pulse galloped.
“I didn’t want to kiss you,” I lied badly.
Desire flashed in his dark eyes. “Liar. Besides, I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you right now, too . . .”
“Archer,” I whispered.
He stalked toward me, and in three strides, he was caging me in against the counter. He cradled the back of my neck in his large hand and peered into my eyes.
“Tell me not to,” he murmured, the ghost of his breath warm against my skin.
I stared into his eyes . . .
Grabbed the collar of his shirt . . .
And tugged him forward.
His lips seized mine, his tongue invading my mouth. He slid his knee between my legs and pressed ever so slightly. Electric shocks pulsed through my core.
God, his mouth was sin and temptation, and everything I wanted.
It was also everything I was trying to avoid.
I wrenched out of his grip and turned my head, winded.
With a deep breath of his own, he released me.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” I whispered.
“I disagree completely,” he said, his tone low. “I want to do it again. Immediately. Preferably naked.”
I hastily shook my head and my lips trembled. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because what happens in the morning, Archer?” I asked. “We can’t cross this line. It’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to Lenni. Hell, it’s not fair to you, either.”
He raked a hand through his hair in frustration.
“You know I’m right,” I said.
“Do I?”
He sounded . . . almost heartbroken.
I clenched my hands at my sides.
“I’ll finish cleaning up,” he said. “Thanks for cooking.”
Nodding, I dashed up the stairs and hid in my room for the rest of the evening.
I was still awake at one in the morning. The time on my phone mocked me.
There were two choices: get up and make myself chamomile tea or toss and turn for several more hours.
With a sigh, I flung the covers off me. There was no warm little body next to mine. Mildred had decided to sleep with Lenni again.
I threw on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt and padded quietly from the room. I was about to hit the stairs when I heard the unmistakable sound of someone trying to cry without disturbing anyone.
I was glad I was awake now.
I raised my fist to Lenni’s door and rapped on it.
A moment later, I heard a watery, “Come in.”
I opened the door to darkness.
“You mind turning on the lamp?” I asked. “I can’t see a thing.”
The lamp flicked on. Lenni was sitting with her back against the headboard, Mildred in her arms.
Mildred’s tail thumped in happiness to see me.
I closed the door and crept toward the bed. “May I sit?”
She nodded.
I sat and curled my legs up under me. Mildred wriggled from Lenni’s embrace and came to me. She rolled over and I stroked her belly.
“Did I wake you up?” Lenni sniffed.
“Nah, I was already awake. Turns out I have a hard time sleeping without Mildred.” I waited for Lenni to talk, not wanting to push, just wanting to be there for her.
“I forgot,” she whispered.
“Forgot what?”
“Forgot that she was dead.” It came out in a hiccough.
“And you were having fun,” I said. “With Archer.”
She paused for a moment and nodded. “And with you. It felt like we were a real family. But we’re not, are we?”
“Families come in all shapes and sizes,” I said, my tone gentle. “We’re spending Thanksgiving with Hadley and Salem. Are we related to them? No. But they’re still family. Don’t you think?”
“I guess.”
I sighed. “I don’t want to talk around issues. So, I’m just gonna say it.”
“Okay.”
“Look at me.”
Lenni turned her eyes to mine.
“It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry. But it’s also okay to be happy. I didn’t know your mom, but I do know what moms are like. And I know that yours would want you to be happy.”
“It’s not that,” Lenni said.
“What is it?” I asked.
She nibbled her lip. “Whenever I asked about my dad, she would change the subject or say we’d talk about it later. We never did. She didn’t want me to have a dad. I’m mad at her for that.”
“Because Archer’s turning out to be a pretty good dad? Even though he’s new at it?”
“Yeah.” She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “It’s not fair, Wyn. It’s not fair that I didn’t have a dad growing up.”
“No, it’s not fair,” I agreed. “Moms want their kids to be happy. But moms also protect their babies. That’s what good moms do.”
“Why was she trying to protect me from Archer?” she asked. “Why did she take me away? Why couldn’t we have been a family?”
“And had nights like the one the three of us had together last night?”
She peered at me as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You’re good at this.”
“Good at what?”
She exhaled. “Being a mom.”
An air raid siren blasted in my head.
“I’m being a friend,” I said. “We’re friends, right?”
“Right,” she repeated.
Lenni didn’t need me as a friend.
But I couldn’t be her mom. That wasn’t my role to fill.
“You think you’ll be able to sleep now?” I asked.
“Yeah. I think so,” she said, scooting down underneath the covers and pulling them up to her chin.
Mildred hopped off my lap and belly-crawled toward Lenni and then curled up next to her side.
I stood and made sure she was tucked in, but before I could turn off the light, she said, “Wyn?”
“Yeah?”
Her brow furrowed. “Will you promise not to leave?”
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” I assured her.
I knew that wasn’t what she was asking.
I turned off the lamp and then settled at the foot of her bed. Even after her breathing evened out, I didn’t leave.
I couldn’t.