Chapter 2
TWO
That morning, as he’d dressed for the event, Archer hadn’t thought of Scarlett. Then he’d arrived, seen her in her dress and heels and hair and makeup, and been transported back to a darkened hallway just around the corner from Marlon and Camilla’s wedding reception seventeen months earlier. He remembered what it felt like to have all those lush curves pressed tight to his body, and he wanted to feel it again.
Today, he’d walked into the Barlows’ home and seen her talking to Gus Barlow, Lucy’s dad, while she arranged flowers on one of the side tables in the sunroom. The sun had glinted off her medium-brown hair, highlighting the glossy waves. Her dress was black, cut close to her body. He’d stood there, ten feet away, watching the way her hands arranged the flowers with gentle precision as her lips graced Gus with a warm smile. She’d looked like a goddess of desire, sent down to Earth for the sole purpose of turning men’s brains to mush. Gus himself looked slightly thunderstruck as Scarlett laughed at one of his jokes. Then the older man joined in a moment later as if remembering belatedly that he should be laughing too.
Archer had stood there, sick with wanting her.
But there wouldn’t be a repeat of the last wedding Archer and Scarlett had attended together. They’d agreed; they were friends who had gotten carried away. A few too many drinks consumed while they watched two people commit their lives to each other had addled their brains, but they’d recovered quickly. There were no real feelings between Archer and Scarlett, only a bit of post-wedding lust that they’d indulged in without thinking it through.
Archer had only one real family now: the one he’d created. He wouldn’t ruin it by pursuing a woman, even if she happened to be a goddess. With Amelia married to Leo, her sister Maggie married to Emory, Camilla married to Marlon, and now Lucy married to Cormac, their friend group was a tangle of couples who spent all their time together.
What if Archer and Scarlett had their fun, and it ended badly? It would affect the whole group. It was better not to risk it.
But Archer had been tempted, all those months ago. He’d felt the rake of her nails on his scalp, heard the sweet gasps she’d let out with her lips near his ear.
The temptation lingered. He was a man, after all. He wanted to claim. To possess. Who wouldn’t?
But he knew where things stood between them, and he agreed. It was better not to indulge in carnal thoughts, especially when so much was at stake. Archer couldn’t lose the only people who truly cared about him, truly accepted him as he was. Especially not for a woman.
But as the reception wore on, his gaze kept being dragged in Scarlett’s direction no matter how hard he tried to resist.
And a few moments ago, after he’d pulled the cords and cut the sound and video to Scarlett’s disastrous speech, he’d seen something in her face. It only lasted a moment, right at the peak of her embarrassment. It was an awful, haunted sort of vulnerability. Something that was so at odds with the confident, self-contained woman he knew Scarlett to be.
It shocked him.
That torment on her face had been a knife to the gut, and now Archer was antsy. He wanted to fix it, whatever it was. But Scarlett was turning to face the audience again, and there was nothing Archer could do but wait.
“I apologize for what just happened,” Scarlett told the crowd as she began her speech. She paused for dramatic effect. “But as an aside, if anyone knows a werewolf who’s single and looking for a tall brunette with questionable taste in men, feel free to send them my way.”
Laughter rippled through the audience. Camilla put her fingers to her lips and wolf-whistled, to which Scarlett added, sardonically, “Gas station attendants need not apply.”
The laughter grew, and Archer watched as Scarlett flattened the crowd with that brilliant smile of hers. Standing a little behind and to the side of her, he saw Scarlett in profile and noticed the way the edges of her lips trembled, noted the tension in her shoulders.
That smile was a mask, he realized, straightening. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. Archer, who could read people more easily than any text. Who had built his business on the foundation of his charm and his intuition. He’d missed the big neon sign that proclaimed that Scarlett wasn’t the unshakable pillar of self-assurance she appeared to be.
And she was standing in front of all their shared friends, completely alone.
“Someone who has great taste in men is that woman right there,” Scarlett continued, sweeping her arm toward the back of the yard. “Lucy is one of the kindest, most hard-working people I’ve ever met, and I’m thrilled to be able to stand here and congratulate her.”
As Scarlett stood in front of the assembled crowd, Archer watched the play of the fairy lights over her hair. He noticed the way her dress hugged her curves, how the black fabric dipped down in a V that just touched the top of her cleavage. She wore a delicate necklace that dangled right between her collarbones, and Archer strained to get a good look at it as Scarlett briefly angled her body in his direction. Some kind of pale purple stone, maybe light blue. His gaze slid back to her face, to the elegant arch of her brow and the sparkly peach makeup she’d draped over her lids.
She was a stunning woman. He’d known it before, of course. But there was something about her tonight, specifically, that made Archer take stock. She wasn’t quite so…untouchable. Invincible. His gut pulsed with the need to go to her, to wrap her in his arms, to press his lips to her temple, to murmur soft words in her ear.
Whatever was hurting her, he wanted to tear it to pieces. He wanted to fix this, right now, this instant.
But that made no sense.
Everyone was enthralled by her, hanging on her every word. How could anyone resist her magic? She was utter womanly perfection. As Scarlett continued weaving a spell over the audience with her voice, Archer found himself thinking about Gas Station Attendant Jimmy. Who was he? What did a gas pump worker have that he didn’t? Why did he feel so annoyed at the thought of some emoji-loving try-hard sending her unsolicited messages?
Were they unsolicited?
“…so let’s lift our glasses to Cormac and Lucy. I love you both, and I’m proud to call you my friends. I wish you a lifetime of happiness together. Congratulations.”
Scarlett ended her speech with another one of her megawatt smiles, handed the microphone off to Leo, who approached from the lawn, and then turned her back to the audience and hurried up the steps leading to the sunroom.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled as she slid past Archer in the doorway, squeezing past so no part of her touched any part of him. He caught a glimpse of her crumpled face, and a spear lanced him right through the chest. Her scent lingered for a moment, sweet and summery, as she hurried into the house and disappeared around a corner.
He didn’t hesitate for a moment. He was two steps behind her as she shut herself in the downstairs powder room, close enough to hear her shuddering breath through the door.
“Scarlett?” he called out softly, rapping his knuckle on the wood panel.
“Go away.” Her voice was tight. The spear in his chest twisted.
He paused, leaning against the doorframe. Every bit of him wanted to break down the door, wrap her in his arms, and make sure she never got that look on her face again. The urge was so strong he had to curl his hands into fists and take a deep breath to regain some sort of control.
She was a friend. That was all. She was a friend in distress, and he didn’t like seeing her upset. That’s what was going on here, nothing more.
Another rattle of breath sounded through the door. Archer grimaced, rubbing his temple. Why was Scarlett so upset? Was this about the audiobook and the texts? No one cared! She’d always seemed so confident. Did she think people were judging her?
Then, a new thought made his stomach drop: Was she upset about this Jimmy guy? Had he hurt her?
“Scarlett,” he tried again, throat tight. “Talk to me.”
Silence.
An itch developed under Archer’s collar. He stared at the doorknob, wondering if she’d kill him if he barged in. Probably. He leaned against the wall next to the door and drummed his fingers against it.
“Your speech was great,” he told the door. A sniffle sounded, and Archer’s ribs winched tighter.
Silence stretched. Casting about for something that would make her speak to him, Archer settled on the worst option: “Which gas station is it, exactly, where Jimmy works?”
The bathroom door flew open. Scarlett stood in the doorway, looking furious and fragile and beautiful. Archer’s heart stuttered. Her brown eyes were glazed, and the tip of her nose was red. Her hair, previously styled to shampoo-commercial perfection, looked like she’d been running her hands through it a few too many times. Archer imagined it would look somewhat similar if he were to wake up and find her in his bed, which was a nice thought.
No. No, it was a bad thought. It was a very wrong thought.
“Jimmy is none of your business, Archer,” Scarlett answered, eyes flashing, which didn’t help Archer regain control of his wayward thoughts in the slightest. She looked good when she was angry.
But she was mad that he’d prodded her about another man. What was Gas Station Attendant Jimmy to her? Did she—did she love him?
Archer would find this Jimmy and push him off a tall cliff. He couldn’t explain why the murderous urge struck him, but it was strong enough to make him clear his throat. “Did he hurt you?” His voice came out garbled.
Scarlett blinked. Frowned. “What?”
“Are you crying because he upset you?” He tried to make his voice level, but he couldn’t help focusing on Scarlett as he waited for her answer. Suddenly, whether or not Gas Station Attendant Jimmy was the cause of those unshed tears seemed very, very important.
“Archer, we went on one date, and there was no chemistry.”
“Seemed like he felt some chemistry.”
“It’s Saturday evening. He’s probably rapid-fire texting every woman who’s ever given him her number.”
“You think?” Archer leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “He seemed pretty interested in your buns, specifically.”
Her glare chased away a few more of the shadows in her eyes. “I haven’t spoken to the man in two years. Why am I even telling you this? It’s none of your business.”
His shoulders eased. “I see.” Two years would mean Jimmy had been on that date before Archer and Scarlett had their…moment. Archer couldn’t decide if he preferred that to the alternative, and he also couldn’t figure out why he should care whether Jimmy came before or after him. “He just texted you out of the blue?”
Scarlett huffed, planting her hands on her hips. “Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”
Archer shrugged. Was it hard to believe that a man would be thinking about Scarlett two years on? No. Archer was going on seventeen months himself, after all. Was it hard to believe that she felt nothing for the other man? That was harder to answer. Why else would the texts make her cry?
In that moment, Archer discovered he had a petty streak when he said, “He sounds like a loser. Those emojis? Come on. How old is this guy? Is he even legally allowed to drink?”
Scarlett’s cheeks flushed, and her gaze slid to the side. “I don’t want to talk about it. This has nothing to do with him, other than hating his timing.”
He nodded toward the backyard. “Nobody cared about that, Scarlett. They thought it was funny. You handled it perfectly. No one was judging you.”
There it was again—that haunted look on Scarlett’s face. Was she really so embarrassed about a few texts and a romance book? God—that was nothing. If some of his own texts popped up on a screen, he’d be shunned from polite society forever.
But shadows were creeping into Scarlett’s eyes again, and Archer felt something close to panic. He needed to fix this. He needed her smile—not the beaming one that was a little too wide and a little too false. He wanted the one that made her eyes glimmer. He wanted that little sideways grin that tugged one side of her lips when she was trying not to laugh. Or the one that crinkled her nose when she was cackling so hard she snorted. The real smiles. The real Scarlett.
He couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t hug her. Couldn’t stroke her back until the tension left her body, because they were friends and they didn’t have that kind of relationship. The only thing he could do was pretend that he was just Archer, and she was just Scarlett, and nothing at all had changed tonight.
He straightened and busied himself adjusting his cufflinks. “So,” he started. “How are you going to repay me?”
Scarlett startled and reared back. “For what?”
“For saving your life out there.”
“Get bent, Archer.” She rolled her eyes at him, but at least she looked like herself again.
He grinned, even though it still felt like shards of glass were churning in his gut. “How about this: you give me a nice bunch of flowers and we call it even.”
Suspicion entered her gaze. “Why do you want flowers?”
He shrugged. “It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow. I like to upstage my younger brother in any way I can.” Not that it would make a difference, but old habits died hard. He’d be expected to make an appearance at his parents’ house, and he knew he couldn’t show up empty-handed. It was easier not to rock the boat.
Another tendril of Scarlett’s scent teased Archer’s nose as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. She mulled over his words as she adjusted her dress, then touched the stone between her collarbones as if to make sure it was still there. She’d painted her nails to match her makeup—a sparkly peachy pink. A woman who paid attention to details, who liked adorning herself in delicate, beautiful things. No wonder she owned a flower shop.
Finally, Scarlett shrugged. “Fine. You can pick them up tomorrow.”
“I parked my truck downtown,” Archer said. “I could grab them tonight, and we’ll be even.” He’d see her home, make sure she was okay.
“What are you two doing, hiding over here?” a voice called out. They turned to see Vicky, Cormac’s mother, gliding down the hallway. She smiled. “We’re about to cut the cake. Is everything okay, Scarlett?”
That bright, brittle smile made another appearance on Scarlett’s lips. “Everything’s great.”
“Your speech was fabulous,” Vicky told her, smiling, “but to be honest with you, that Jimmy fellow doesn’t seem like he’s worth the hassle.”
Scarlett snorted. “This is why I’ve given up on men, Vicky. I’ve learned my lesson. None of them are.”
Vicky glanced at Scarlett, then at Archer. Her left eyebrow twitched a fraction of an inch. She hummed but didn’t say anything, then ushered them both outside to rejoin the festivities.
Archer watched as Scarlett donned her mask, but he knew things between them had changed. Whether or not Scarlett realized it was another story.