Chapter Twenty
After they’d closed the shop, Archer suggested dinner before heading home.
He would now do everything in his power to cheer up and distract Zoey from the canceled party.
She wasn’t fooling him. Last night, he’d heard her crying in her bedroom.
He’d been about to knock on her door to check on her when he heard the quiet sobs.
Suddenly, he hated himself, American football, social media, sports fans and everything in this messed-up world.
If a woman wanted to celebrate a day for sweethearts, she should be able to do it.
“My treat,” he said, after suggesting they go out to eat.
“What did you have in mind?” Zoey settled into the passenger side and put on her seat belt. “We have our pick of food—Japanese, Tex-Mex, Italian, Chinese.”
“I refuse to eat Italian. They never cook the food right. What’s your favorite place around here? Let’s go there.”
“Well, I like the Salty Dog Bar and Grill. They have the juiciest burgers.”
“As it turns out, I like that place, too.” He pulled out onto the road and headed to the other side of town.
The boardwalk along the seawall had one side with carnival rides and games and the other was lined with restaurants.
“Are we seriously not going to talk about the kiss?” Zoey said after a few minutes on the road.
He winced, grateful she’d chosen this moment to ask. At least he was forced to keep his eyes on the road. “Please, forgive me. It was a terrible breach of decorum. I regret it.”
She huffed. “I don’t. Maybe you noticed I kissed you back?”
“I did…notice that.” He cleared his throat. “But it was unprofessional of me. I’m sure you agree. Just because you’re a grown woman with the ability to consent doesn’t mean it’s ethical for me to cross the line.”
“We crossed it together, Archer.”
He sighed. “Believe me, I wish it were different.”
She was quiet for a long moment, staring out the window, so Archer decided to tell her something about himself that he’d only now realized.
“And the truth is, I’ve never just been friends with a woman before you.”
The statement felt like a bomb, given the utter silence that followed his truth explosion.
Then Zoey snorted. “You’re kidding.”
He didn’t change his expression.
“Oh, you’re not kidding! Are you serious? No women who were just your friends?”
“It sounds ridiculous, but there was rarely an opportunity to stay friends.”
“Oh, I see,” Zoey said, giving him the side-eye. “Now it makes sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you didn’t want to stay friends, and you get what you want, don’t you?”
“Well, that is probably true.” He cleared his throat. “All in the past. The thing is, and I know it’s hard for you to believe, but before my accident…let’s just say I dated a lot.”
“Color me not surprised!” She chuckled, then turned her entire body toward him.
“The thing is, I’ve recently understood how truly stupid that is.”
“Dating a lot is stupid?”
He shook his head. “No, not knowing how to stay friends. You’ve been good for me, Zoey. I’m learning a lot.”
“Wow, bad timing for me.”
“Good timing for you. I’m not willing to risk going all in with the physical stuff, even though I’m attracted to you. I know now how important it is for a couple to be friends first. I mean, that’s how it should work.”
“Sometimes. That’s how Twyla and Noah got together. They were friends for years before anything happened.”
“Years?” Archer tried not to choke on his own spit.
This had not been what he had in mind, but he admired Noah for his restraint.
“Yes. Well, they were young when they met. And over the years, they dated other people. Still stayed the best of friends.”
“That had to be tough for Noah.”
“More so for Twyla, actually.”
Archer doubted this but didn’t want to argue the point.
Now Zoey cleared her throat. “Just, um, out of curiosity, where will you go after this job with me is over?”
The truth? He didn’t know. He’d have to go where the agency needed him to be. It might be California, or it might be the Middle East. The job involved travel, even if some jobs would undoubtedly be local, like this one. But that wasn’t the norm.
“It could be anywhere.”
“Anywhere?”
“Yes. Literally anywhere.”
“So…you might be sent thousands of miles from Texas. Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
She was quiet, presumably absorbing that information, allowing him to focus more on driving, a mindless activity that gave him some degree of comfort.
He found a parking space on the restaurant side of the boardwalk, the cries of children echoing from the carnival side.
It reminded him of his childhood, trips to the Jersey Shore and Coney Island, and a wave of melancholy swept over him.
The Salty Dog Bar and Grill had a bar section on one side, separated from the restaurant section by a short hallway.
The walls on the grill side were red brick, and there were handwritten chalkboards announcing the daily specials.
The hostess greeted them at the door and led them to their table.
As Zoey walked ahead of him, heads turned.
He was not surprised, though some caveman instinct in him wanted to throw a blanket over her so no one else would appreciate her the way he did.
Their server came, and they placed their orders.
“Question from a newcomer to your town,” Archer said when their server had left. “What in the world is up with the wood placard in the front window that says, Mr. Charming, and lists a bunch of years?”
Zoey laughed. “That’s an annual contest we have here during the summer. Both men and women compete for the title of Mr. Charming. It’s Ava Del Toro’s brainchild. She used to run the Chamber of Commerce before she got married and opened her coffeehouse.”
“So, one of the workers here won it?”
“Yes. Cole Kinsella, one of the owners, was the most recent Mr. Charming. He’s actually won a few times.”
Archer had met Cole before. He was definitely gregarious and friendly, so it made sense.
He’d heard him more than once refer to an elderly woman as “darlin’.
” There were probably not many people who didn’t love that guy.
Were Archer to enter a Mr. Charming contest, he’d lose handily.
He identified far more with Max than he did Cole.
“I’ve met the owners,” Archer said. “I’m especially fond of Max.”
“Yes, I can see why you would be. He’s a good guy.”
“You know, Zoey, there’s no reason you can’t have Twyla and Noah over on the fourteenth, in place of the party.”
“And you’d be my plus-one?” She smiled.
“Of course, if you don’t mind.”
“Obviously, I don’t mind, but actually, I was thinking about taking the day to do some quiet reflection instead.”
“Also a good idea.”
“Maybe it’s time for me to rethink the importance of having a silly grown-up version of a party like the one I used to have with my mother as a child.”
“I don’t think it’s silly,” Archer protested. “No one does.”
“Really? Sweetheart Day?” She gave him a wry look. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not ten anymore.”
“It’s not silly to celebrate love.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it.
“We have February for that.”
He was about to tell her she could celebrate it all year long if that’s what she wanted, and he’d fight anyone who said otherwise, when a couple joined them.
“Hi,” said a pretty brunette. “I was sorry to hear about the party.”
“We were looking forward to it and already had a sitter,” said the dark-haired man with her. He turned to Archer. “Hi, I’m Adam Cruz and this is my wife, Stacy. Heard a lot about you.”
Adam was the sole restaurant owner Archer had not met yet, but apparently Max had been talking about Archer.
Adam had previously worked as the chef and now supervised the kitchen, so it made sense for him not to be as visible as Max and Cole.
He also ran the support group Archer had been avoiding.
Even if he had wanted to attend—and he didn’t—he didn’t have time.
After all, he couldn’t very well leave Zoey to go to a meeting.
He was still on the job even if these days it felt too pleasant to be called work.
* * *
“Join us,” Zoey said. “At least we can hang out a little bit tonight.”
Archer stood to give the couple the opportunity to sit together on the opposite side of the bench. He took the seat next to Zoey.
“So, I hear you’re working for Zoey now,” Stacy said. “And business is booming.”
“Well, I do what I can,” Archer said, biting back a smile.
“I thought you were former military,” Adam said, which meant he knew exactly what he did for a living. “This must be a change for you.”
“Yes, it’s definitely a change.” He winced.
“Actually, can you two keep a secret?” Zoey leaned in. “That’s just a cover. Archer is my temporary bodyguard.”
Next to her, she literally felt Archer’s body relax. Zoey felt better about the truth now. There was no shame in needing protection.
“He’s been a good sport about pretending to be my employee.” She reached to squeeze his forearm. “And the truth is, the party was canceled because we thought it best, since my father has one of those obsessive football fans after him again.”
“Good ol’ Patch.” Adam chuckled. “He tells it like it is and doesn’t pull any punches. The Chiefs defensive line has issues this year and somebody had the nerve to say it.”
“My father has never been shy when it comes to football,” Zoey said. “And when he talks and he gets haters, I’m punished for it, too.”
“You’re his only child,” Stacy said, and then gave Adam the side-eye. “We have two daughters, and though they’re little, I already see Adam is the same way.”
Adam made a face but nodded. “It may be a little retro, but fathers still want to protect their daughters whether they need it or not. I’m glad your father hired Archer.”
Actually, Zoey was, too, if for no other reason than she would have never met Archer otherwise. Not that it mattered. When he finished this assignment, he might actually leave the country. There was no room for any kind of relationship with him.
Falling for him would be the single most impractical thing Zoey could ever do.
Driving home, they talked about what a nice couple Adam and Stacy were.
“He runs a support group for veterans,” Archer said. “Max told me about it and gave me Adam’s number to give him a call about it sometime.”
“I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. Adam was a widower before he met Stacy, and he also had a lot of survivor’s guilt from his time as a soldier, apparently.”
“Yeah. I’m fine, though.”
“You seem fine. But, of course, sometimes it’s difficult to tell what’s going on inside.”
“I’ve already had therapy. Lots of it.”
He sounded a little defensive but Zoey let it go.
“Then maybe you could help the other guys in the group, offer your insight.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m an encyclopedia of information when it comes to prosthetics, analgesics and physical therapy.”
“I bet you have a lot more than that to offer.”
He seemed resistant to talking about all the other losses he must have had. The friends he lost. Grief, she knew well, was not something that disappeared with time. It became a part of you.
“You seem thankful despite what you lost. I admire that.” She took a breath. “How many friends did you leave behind?”
“None,” Archer said, patting her chest. “Never leave a man behind. They’re still with me.”
It was something she understood far better than he realized.