Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The Restaurant
Huckleberry Hill didn’t have a steakhouse. We had to drive to Coeur d’Alene, but it was well worth it when we entered the restaurant.
Archer’s hand rode my lower back as though it belonged there. I enjoyed the feel of it, the heat of him, the towering masculine presence behind me.
Lenni ran up to the hostess and asked for their best table. The hostess smiled and showed us to a table where we watched the low winter sun set behind the haze of a north Idaho sky over the lake.
We ordered far too much food, but whatever Lenni exclaimed excitement over, Archer had ordered it.
Archer polished off the last of his filet and then wiped his mouth with the black cloth napkin. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
He sauntered away from the table through the genteel dining room of brass, polished wood, and vintage wall sconces.
Several pairs of female eyes tracked his easy, confident gate.
Including mine.
“Good, I thought he’d never leave,” Lenni said.
“That’s not a nice thing to say,” I said with a laugh. “Especially because he’s treating us to dinner.”
She reached for the soda glass and took a sip. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, I’m glad he’s gone so you and I can talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“Ms. Thomas.”
“Your teacher?”
She nodded. “Ms. Thomas tried to get the principle not to suspend me for fighting. Saying it was extenuating circumstances, whatever that means. But anyway, she was really cool about it. I think she’s nice.”
“Nice, and pretty,” I remarked. “There are so few of us.”
Lenni smiled and nodded again. “Yeah. I think she and my dad would get along really well.”
“Get along well,” I repeated, my tone flat.
“Yeah, I think he should ask her out on a date,” she said with a bright grin. “What do you think? He could bring her here.”
I think I want to stab my eyes out with a butter knife.
“You want your dad to be happy, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes. Very much. Oh, shhh. Here he comes.”
Lenni widened her brown eyes, attempting to appear innocent. Archer was no idiot, though. His gaze narrowed at his daughter and then he shifted his stare to me.
“What did I miss?” he asked.
“We were talking about dessert,” Lenni stated.
First a champion fighter, now a world-class liar.
This girl was trouble with a Capital T.
“Yes, dessert,” I croaked.
“No dessert,” Archer stated.
Lenni’s face fell. “But—”
A server entered the dining room—carrying a slice of chocolate cake with a sparkler candle—and glided toward our table.
Smiling, the server placed the cake in front of Lenni, who peered up at him in delight.
“Champion fighters get champion cakes,” the server said with a wink.
I quickly concealed my smile as I watched Lenni attempt to blow out the trick candle.
“Help!” she begged.
Archer and I leaned over and aided her.
“Sneaky,” Lenni said as she plucked the candle from the slice of cake and licked the frosting off the end.
“Very sneaky,” I agreed.
Lenni picked up her dessert fork and took a bite of the chocolate cake.
“You gonna share any of that?” Archer asked in amusement.
Lenni sighed but reluctantly pushed the plate toward him. He took a bite and slid it back toward her.
“Wyn?” Lenni offered.
“I’m good. You finish it,” I said.
And she did just that, much to my disbelief.
“Impressive,” Archer remarked as Lenni finished the last of the cake.
She wiped her mouth and then stood. “Restroom,” she whispered. “Now’s a good time to talk to him, Wyn.”
Lenni headed off toward the bathroom, leaving me alone with Archer.
“What did she want you to talk to me about?” Archer asked.
“She thinks you should ask her teacher out on a date. She’s pretty . . . and nice, apparently.”
Archer ran a thumb across his jaw. “Be kind of rude, don’t you think?”
I frowned in confusion. “Rude?”
“To the woman I’m currently on a date with.”
“This isn’t a date,” I replied as I reached for my water.
“We’re at a steakhouse,” he said. “I’m wearing a button-down shirt. I combed my mustache. You’re wearing a black dress and heels. Feels like a date to me.”
“Your daughter’s with us.” I laughed. “You can’t be on a date if your daughter is here. It’s like going on a honeymoon and bringing the kids. That’s called a family vacation.”
“Family vacation . . . I like where your head’s at.”
“What are you doing, Archer?”
“Making my intentions known,” he said. “Maybe this isn’t a proper date, even though you look dynamite, by the way. Can’t believe you just happened to have a black dress in your closet.”
“When you work for millionaires, you never know when the occasion might call for a little black dress. This dress has seen places.”
He leaned forward. “I’d like to show it the floor of my bedroom.”
My eyes widened in shock. “Archer!”
“So, here’s my offer,” Archer stated with a roguish grin. “We’re going to do this again. Friday night. Different restaurant. Different outfits, but next time it will just be us. Brooks and Poet can hang out with Lenni.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’m not asking you to think. We’re going. Friday night.”
No. I can’t go on a date with him!
He was charming and beguiling, and when I spoke, he looked at me like he was absorbing everything I was saying.
It would be so easy to fall in love with him.
Lenni returned to the table. “Can we go home now? I miss Millie.”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Archer said, shoving back from the table. He came around to help me with my chair.
“Don’t you have to pay the check?” Lenni asked.
“Already took care of it,” he explained.
Archer helped me with my black shawl, his hands lingering on my shoulders. He placed his hand at the small of my back again and guided me out of the restaurant. He stood close enough that I could smell the traces of his spicy cologne that made my knees nearly buckle.
His smell was intoxicating.
He was intoxicating.
Stupid, stupid pheromones. And hormones. Both of them were trying to undermine me. And the third bitch—my heart—was completely useless.
He tried to take my hand in the parking lot, but I clenched my fingers into a fist and prevented him from holding my hand. Still, I took his hand when he opened the passenger door of the truck and helped me up. I was in heels, after all.
Lenni fell asleep a few minutes into the drive back to Huckleberry Hill.
“You cold?” Archer asked, reaching for the heat.
“A little,” I admitted as I pulled the shawl tighter around my shoulders.
“Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?”
I turned my head toward the window so he couldn’t see me smile. “You said I looked dynamite at dinner, but you were too busy trying not to choke on your tongue when I came down the stairs before dinner, so technically, no.”
He let out a soft laugh. “You know what’s crazy about you?”
I looked at him. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“No, listen.” He shook his head. “You’re stunning done up the way you are. Hair up, long gorgeous neck, makeup . . . and those heels. God. They make your legs look miles long.”
I suddenly had a vision of me on my back, my legs wrapped around his waist, my heels still on . . .
“But honestly? I think I like you more the way you were the other night in the kitchen. In the middle of the night, I mean. I don’t know how to explain it, Wyn. You had no armor on. It was like you were open. In a way you’re not right now.”
I swallowed. “Armor protects you from getting hurt.”
We drove the rest of the way home in pensive silence. There had been no more reason for me to explain. I’d said all I needed to say.
Archer slid the truck into the parking spot in front of the house. I reached for the truck door.
“Wait,” he said as he climbed out.
He came around to my side and took my hand and helped me down. There was a patch of frost on the asphalt and my heel slipped on it. Before I fell, Archer steadied me. I placed my hand against his chest and my fingers curled into his shirt.
I peered up at him.
The warm glow of the streetlamp gilded him in shadows and light. His breath steamed the air.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded.
He paused for a moment and then stepped away.
Archer opened the back door of the truck and looked at his sleeping daughter.
He unclipped her seat belt and slid his arms beneath her.
She was dead weight, but he lifted her as though she was as light as a bubble and then carried her toward the porch steps.
I closed the truck door and then sidled past him to unlock the front door. Mildred was there to greet us instantly. Archer carried Lenni up to her room as I exchanged my shawl for my coat and headed to the back door with Mildred.
While Mildred was taking forever to do her business, I pulled my phone out of my small black purse. With a deep breath, I shot off a text to Poet.
Me
I’m in trouble. Emotional trouble.
It took only a few seconds before Poet replied.
Poet
It was fun, wasn’t it?
Me
More than fun. It was perfect. Felt date-ish. Even with Lenni there.
Poet
You know what I love about laminated cards?
Me
What?
Poet
You can easily destroy them with a pair of scissors. Good night. See you tomorrow at the Ridge.
I shoved my phone back into my purse and then peered up at the night sky. Even in town with the light pollution of the vintage streetlamps, I could see the stars.
The back door opened and Archer’s weighted steps clod across the porch. He came to my side, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Kind of incredible,” I murmured, not taking my gaze off the starry blanket. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he said, his tone low. “Kind of incredible.”
His gravelly voice had me turning my gaze to his.
“Wyn . . .”
The way he said my name. With such longing, such yearning . . .
I wanted him.
I wanted to keep him.
But my relationship record was one long trail of broken hearts.
Mine. Not theirs.
The problem had never been me giving my heart away. It had been that I’d given it so freely and those that took it never cared for it. They were callous and greedy. But I’d survived all of them.
I wouldn’t survive Archer.
So, I did the only thing I could.
“Kissing you would be selfish. And Lenni comes first.”
Without waiting for a reply, I quietly trekked back inside, Mildred dogging my heels. But it wasn’t my room she wanted to go to. She stood at Lenni’s bedroom door and pawed at it. A moment later, I opened the door a crack and Mildred slithered her way inside before I shut the door.
I went into my bedroom and took off my black dress and hung it on its hanger. I removed the heels, the earrings, and washed my face.
And became myself again.