Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Archer shoved his feet into his boots, his phone into his pocket, and, coat in hand, yanked open his front door. And promptly startled at the unexpected visitor leaning against his porch rail. “Fucking hell!”
“You know . . .” Elton bent to pick up the coat Archer had dropped in his surprise. “Maybe you should start looking out the window before opening your door.”
Archer snatched back the coat and shrugged into it. “Maybe you should start making more noise.” Elton had similarly surprised him last month, beating him to the sunrise and waiting for him on the porch. But at least then he’d known Elton was on the property. “Or tell someone you’re coming.”
“I didn’t know I was until my flight got canceled.” He bumped the suitcase beside him with his shoe. “They couldn’t rebook me until tomorrow.”
“So you came here?”
“Would you like me to leave?”
“No” flew out of his mouth way too quickly, belying his ill temper and revealing how delighted, how relieved he was that Elton Moore was standing in front of him again.
Archer had only heard from him once since that night a month ago when a work emergency had cut their dinner short.
The night after Archer had sent his Remember to breathe text, Elton had replied with a picture—a glass of wine and the bottle Archer had sent him home with.
By now, Archer had started to think he’d never see Elton again, or if he did, that it would be months later like it had been the last time.
He hadn’t anticipated that the too handsome executive assistant director would show up unannounced on his front porch, the lines around his eyes and mouth and along his forehead seemingly deeper, weariness etched into his features, the rest of him poured into black cargos, another sinfully snug Henley, a pair of black boots, and his trench.
He managed to pull off tired and delicious all at the same time.
And the smell from the thermos he opened was delicious too. “I brought a bribe,” he said, grinning.
“Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that?”
Elton pushed off the rail and crowded into his space, mere inches between them. “Maybe I like it when you’re grumpy and I can make it better.”
He gently pressed the thermos against Archer’s chest, the warmth radiating through his sweater and all around him, Elton’s presence filling his world, the heat going supernova where their fingers tangled together around the canister.
Archer’s gaze shot up and the molten one staring back at him was like quicksand, threatening to never let him go.
Promising to drag him back inside and set him on fire.
Until a car horn blew, and Elton whipped his fiery brown gaze to the side, growling. He did not, however, step back.
And that was the silver lining that kept Archer’s own frustration from boiling over at Noah, who leaned across the console of his truck and shouted out the window. “You know how Ruby gets if we’re late.”
Elton’s gaze swung back to him. “Ruby? The woman with the goats?”
Archer nodded, then leaned back enough to take a sip of the fucking divine coffee, letting it burn away some of his aggravation at being interrupted once again. “We’re going to her other farm.”
“What’s her other farm?” Elton said, rightfully suspicious.
The rest of Archer’s irritation evaporated with Noah’s unhinged laughter.
It might not have been the day he wanted, but it was going to be amusing nonetheless, and if nothing else, it would certainly take Elton’s mind off whatever had caused those deeper wrinkles.
It might even give him a smile to hold on to when he did catch that flight to wherever tomorrow.
He handed the thermos back to Elton, rolled his suitcase into the cabin, then looped an arm through Elton’s and steered him off the porch. “I hope you’re ready for today.”
“I’m suddenly worried.”
Archer grinned. “You should be.”