Chapter 35
Juliet
Archer looks concerned, but he doesn’t give off the panic I feel inside. “You need to hide,” I say. “Now.”
He laughs, then stops. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Dead serious.”
I snatch his hand and pull him down the hallway.
“Wait, why?” Archer asks, jogging behind me. “I thought you said I didn’t have to worry about him?”
“You don’t. I do.” We’re almost at the end of the hallway. “You’ll have to sneak out the window.”
Voices sound. Dad must have gotten a ride home from someone. It’s another man. Tom, maybe?
“Why can’t I just go out the back door?” Archer asks.
“It’s too far away. He’ll see us.”
We reach my room that faces the front of the house, though the blinds and curtains are drawn to keep us hidden. I shove him inside. “Stay in here. Unlock that window so you can be ready when I come around to get you.”
He’s laughing. “Juliet, this is ridiculous. I can handle your dad. Especially because you and I weren’t doing anything wrong.”
“Listen,” I say, still waiting for the front door to open as I turn on a lamp near the window.
“There’s a reason I told you not to tell my dad that I was caught making out at The Ridge, okay?
I did it like five times, and each time, he was the one to almost catch me.
I got away without him seeing me every time.
I’ve kept up a near-perfect reputation with him, and I’m not going to have that end tonight by him finding you of all people inside his home, alone with his daughter.
Now stay in here, and don’t make a sound. ”
Archer’s still laughing, but his chuckles are softer now. “You ran away from your dad?”
“Now’s not the time,” I spit out in a fierce whisper, hearing keys jingle at the front door. “Not a sound!”
I close the door just as he pretends to zip his lips, the amusement in his eyes tempting me to join in, but my heart is beating too fiercely to find any humor in the situation.
I reach the end of the hallway just as the front door opens, and I settle my breathing as much as possible before casually walking around the corner to the front room.
“Dad?” I say, my insides roiling.
“Hi, Jules,” he says, taking off his coat and popping off his shoes.
Boy, am I glad Archer didn’t remove his boots before coming in.
“We didn’t wake you up, did we?” Dad asks.
Tom walks in behind him with a wave in greeting.
“It’s not even ten, Dad. I’m not ninety.”
He laughs. “You just seemed tired before.”
“I guess I got my second wind.” A wind called Hurricane Cowboy.
He nods, then walks forward. I see him in a different light now, having Archer’s insight.
I’ll be talking to Dad soon about all I’ve learned, but right now, I have to get Archer out of here unnoticed.
If I’m going to convince Dad he can trust Archer, Dad needs to trust me—and having a guy in my bedroom isn’t going to earn me any favors.
Dad moves toward the kitchen with Tom. I try to block the hallway with my tiny frame, glancing over my shoulder to ensure my bedroom door stays shut.
“You guys going to hang out here for a bit?” I ask.
“Yeah, the game’s on,” Tom says.
Dad takes a few cans of soda from the fridge. “The movie was a bit slow, so we took off a little early. Plus, I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
My heart twinges. “Thanks, Dad. I’m doing better. I was actually just gonna go out for some ice cream. Want me to grab you boys some? Unless you need the car?”
“Naw, you go ahead. Pick us up some Burnt Almond Fudge?”
“You got it.”
I grab the key and my coat, then walk out as inconspicuously as possible. My footsteps are slow until I close the door, then I fly toward my window at the side of the house.
Archer’s already there peeking out of the blinds, a soft light from the lamp in my room pouring into the darkness.
“Open the window,” I whisper, though I’m not sure if he can hear me.
He slides the window open just a crack. “Excuse me, ma’am, but this ain’t appropriate.”
I laugh quietly. “Hurry up!”
“Isn’t Romeo the one who’s supposed to sneak up to Juliet’s window?”
“Ha ha, very funny. Will you get out of there, please, Romeo?”
He tries to open the window further, but it stops. He looks at it up and down, nudging it again and again, but it doesn’t budge. “It ain’t moving.”
“Stupid ancient house,” I mutter. I try to pull it open myself, but his hand is on mine to stay it.
“You’ll break it, darlin’.”
My heart jumps at the endearment. In that one word, I’ve been launched to the eighteen-hundreds and am now being courted by the ever-charming Curly McClain from Oklahoma!
Archer doesn’t seem to realize he’s called me anything special, still eying the window up and down. “I think I might be able to squeeze through the space. Here, take my hat.”
He hands it to me sideways through the window, and I hold it carefully in my hands, grateful there’s no screen to remove on top of all this. Dad and I had to bend it up once when I was in middle school after we locked the keys inside, and we just never replaced it.
The earthy scent of Archer’s cologne and a small degree of sweat drift toward me with his movements. It’s musty, like a man.
And I’m swooning, like a waif.
Archer tries to squeeze through, but he can’t make it—not even when he takes off his coat.
“You’re too big,” I whisper, checking around the corner in the darkness to make sure we’re still alone.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You are,” I say with a laugh.
“You mean my muscles are too big.”
He tries once more, and I end up in a fit of giggles as he fails again and again in his attempt to escape.
“You’re not helping,” he says, starting to laugh himself.
I hold my hand over my lips, the stress of the situation overcoming me.
“It’s not gonna work,” he says with a sigh. “I’m gonna have to stay here. You’re welcome to come back in. We can have a slumber party. I’m sure your dad won’t mind.”
“Oh, he’ll be thrilled.” I shake my head. “Let’s try one more time.”
We nudge, and nudge, and nudge, then finally, it opens just a crack more.
“There, let’s see if I can get my humungous muscles through this.”
I laugh but am filled with immense relief when he finally steps through the space and onto the ground outside.
“Freedom,” he whispers, raising a hand in the air victoriously, and I accept his silent high-five.
He closes the window, and I hand him back his hat. “Hurry up,” I urge. “I got roped into buying ice cream after all this.”
“Aw, for me?”
We creep toward Dad’s SUV, Tom’s truck parked next to it.
“This thrill is amazing,” Archer whispers behind me. “Next, we should get arrested together.”
I laugh, though it comes out as a guttural choking sound as I try to keep quiet, which causes him to laugh in return.
We cut across the grass and beneath the tree to get to the drive faster, but halfway there, Archer lets out a quiet, strangled sound. I stare back to discover him fighting off a black specter dangling from the tree.
“What the crap is this thing?” he asks in a whisper with a grunt.
I run forward to help, tears in my eyes as I attempt to quiet my intensifying laughter. “It’s just a decoration,” I say as he continues to whip it away from his face, his height causing the tangle to become even worse.
Checking the house to ensure no one’s looking through the closed blinds of the front room, I blink to focus more clearly and finally get him untangled by ripping the decoration straight from the tree branch.
“Finally,” he breathes in relief.
“Good thing you didn’t freak out,” I tease. “You basically almost died.”
“I’ll have you know, this here fabric is stronger than you think.”
“Uh-huh, I’m sure.”
“Fine. Let’s tangle you in it and see if you can escape.”
He swings one end of the fabric around my side and deftly catches the other side with his opposite hand before pulling me toward him with swift movements, the fabric at my hips.
I yelp, but he holds one hand over my lips, anticipating my surprise as he secures the bundle of fabric in one hand, still wrapped around me.
“Mut’re y’dwoi?” I mumble against his warm fingers. “Wur gungit cot.”
“My apologies. Didn’t quite catch that.”
I laugh, moving my face until he drops his hand, only to have him press it against the small of my back. My heart is racing against my chest so fiercely, I’m sure he can feel it, too.
“I said, what are you doing?” I whisper. “We’re gonna get caught!”
“Yeah, by another one of these dang ghosties, if we ain’t careful.”
I laugh, trying to pull away, though my efforts are half-hearted. My hands move to hold the fabric still wrapped around me. “I’m serious, cowboy. If my dad comes out that door, I’ll leave you to fend for yourself—with him and the specters.”
His eyes linger on my lips for a minute before he finally relinquishes his hold on me. “Fine. But you’ve gotta lead me outta this nightmare, then.”
I hold in more laughter as he turns the specter side to side, trying to find the string that held it to the tree, but I shake my head. “I’ll put it back up in the morning.”
“Your dad won’t notice it missing?”
“He’ll probably just think he’s being pranked by you again.”
“Oh, great.”
I laugh, seizing the specter and his hand. “Come on. Now we’ve got to really hurry. Just duck your head because there’s, like, fifty more out here.”
“Worst decor ever. You need a sign out. Warning, Fake Ghosts May Attack.”
I laugh behind my hand again as we reach the SUV, and I climb inside, Archer opening and closing my door behind me. Finally, I start the car and pull out of the drive with Archer beside me, all the while hoping Dad doesn’t realize how long it took for me to leave.
Even if he does, I don’t care. Tonight is turning out much better than I expected.
Juliet
I drive Archer to his truck, and we laugh as I tell him more about my narrow escapes from Dad at The Ridge.
“I found an alcove of trees once and scooted my way back into it like a raccoon,” I say. “Then another time, I slunk straight out of the car and rolled beneath it to hide.”
My cheeks are aching by the time we reach the dark field. I hop out of the SUV and watch as he jumpstarts his truck, letting the battery run a bit before removing the colored clamps.
I don’t want the night to end, but I know if I take too long, Dad will start to worry. “Will you be going to the game tomorrow night?” I ask, lingering near the door.
“Nah, I’ve got a late-night ride scheduled I couldn’t get out of.”
I let go of my disappointment when he says he’ll be at the barn raising and dance, though, then I reluctantly climb into the SUV and drive away.
Archer follows behind me down the dark road, then pulls up beside me at the vacant street and stop sign where I’m headed straight and he’s turning right.
He motions for me to roll down the window. This time, I play along.
“What do you want, cowboy?”
“Just wanted to tell you I miss you.”
I laugh. “What, in the last two minutes we’ve been away from each other?”
“Yes, in the last two minutes we’ve been away from each other.”
“Is that what you were going to say the other day, too?” I say over the sound of our vehicles.
“No. I was going to tell you how hot you looked.”
“That would’ve gone over super well with my dad right next to me.”
Archer grins. “See you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
His eyes linger, then he winks. “Goodnight, Juliet.”
“Night.” I wiggle my fingers in a wave and drive away.
He stays at the stop sign a little longer before his truck moves in the opposite direction. My heart tugs in my chest, yearning to turn around and follow him home, but I fight it off.
Instead, I buy the ice cream I promised Dad—as well as strawberry and Moose Tracks for me—then return home.
Dad doesn’t mention how long I’ve been gone, only invites me to stay out and watch the game with him and Tom. I take my ice cream to my room instead after saying a goodnight to them both.
With my door shut behind me, I stare at the window Archer had climbed out of only an hour before and airily sigh. I set my bowl of ice cream on my bedside table, then close the blinds and curtains, still smiling as I return to the bed to pull back my covers.
I pause when I catch sight of a folded piece of notebook paper propped up on my pillow. Did Dad leave it?
I unfold it, and my heart stutters. It’s not Dad’s handwriting. And there’s only one person I know who’s been in my room tonight.
Hungrily, I read the masculine script.
Juliet,
Hope you don’t mind me ripping a paper from your notebook. I just wanted to become your fantasy one more time by leaving you a note, telling you how badly I wanna go on a date with you. But you already know that. Just like you know I almost kissed you tonight...twice.
I can hear you right now, lying your face off to your dad. I think I’m a bad influence on you, Miss Monroe. But I don’t mind. Not one bit.
Anyway, I hope you have the sweetest dreams tonight. Dreams filled with a certain cowboy riding up to tell you you’re everything he ever hoped for in a woman.
Just do me one favor? Don’t take advantage of me in your dreams by kissing me. I’d like to be there for that myself.
Much obliged.
Can’t wait to see you again, to be with you again, and to try to kiss you again. Fair warning—next time, I’m gonna succeed.
Night,
Cowboy
I fall back onto my bed, clinging the paper to my chest like I’ll die if I let it go.
I have a mind to tell Archer about my other fantasies he can play out for me—riding horses at sunset, kissing at dusk, spending the rest of our lives together.
“Calm down, Teenage Juliet,” I whisper to my empty room.
But she can’t calm down.
She’s a lovesick teenager.
And now, I’m a lovesick adult.