Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Bookstore
“Cheers, mate,” I said, clinking my plastic glass of sparkling apple juice against Poet’s. “Just Another Chapter is a success.”
Poet grinned from behind the cash register as she looked around the room. “I think you’re right.”
The bookstore’s opening was bustling with customers. The table of Poet’s favorite books was nearly empty, and almost all of the candles had been purchased.
“How’s your finger?” she asked, gesturing with her chin to the leopard print Band-Aid covering the papercut I’d gotten that afternoon.
“I’ll survive,” I quipped.
Archer and Brooks were standing together in a corner; Archer looked away from his brother and met my eyes from across the room. It was a caress that I felt down my spine.
I hastily turned away, my cheeks heating.
“Saw that,” Poet said with a chuckle. “Go talk to him.”
“Why?” I asked. “About what?”
“Books,” she said. “Go on. And send Brooks to me. I need him.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t, but you want to talk to Archer alone. So go.” She waved her hand in the direction of her fiancé and future brother-in-law.
I went—and made sure not to drag my feet.
“Hey,” I said, greeting the two men as I stopped in front of them. “Brooks, Poet needs you.”
“I live to serve,” Brooks said, inclining his head and then going to his pregnant fiancé.
I smiled at his retreating form.
“You look gorgeous,” Archer said. His voice was low as his eyes dragged over me.
I swallowed and forced myself not to look at him. “Thank you.”
He paused. “Poet looks happy.”
“Ecstatic.”
Archer took a step closer to me so that I could feel the heat of him. He looked far too good in his dark button-down shirt, jeans, and cowboy hat.
As if pulled by a magnet, I slowly turned toward him. His hand grazed the lower part of my back.
There was so much promise in that one little touch.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark-haired blur coming toward us.
“Incoming,” I stated, taking a step away, forcing Archer to drop his hand.
Lenni stopped in front of us, holding a chunky paperback book.
“Can I spend the night at Summer’s house?” Lenni asked.
“Bit of a last-minute ask,” Archer said. “We haven’t met Summer or Summer’s parents.”
We.
He’d said we. Like I was meant to be included in the parenting discussion.
“Well, can you meet them now?” she begged. “Summer and I want to take our new books and have a reading party. Her parents let her take over the attic and she made it into this like, cozy reading nook. Please?”
Archer glanced at me with a raised brow.
I laughed and then looked at Lenni. “Lead the way.”
“Bill Harding,” Summer’s father greeted as he held out his hand to Archer. “My wife, Tanya.”
“Tanya Harding?” I asked with a raise of my brows.
She rolled her eyes and grinned. “I know, right?”
Summer’s family owned one of the local dairies in the area. And it only took a few minutes for Archer and Bill to begin laughing and joking around.
Tanya slipped around her husband to come to me, her smile wide. “I love your shoulder bag! What a cute print!”
“Thanks,” I said. “I made it, actually.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did,” I said, pride shooting through me. “I’m learning my way around a sewing machine. I found an old quilt at a thrift store. It was frayed at the edges, but there was enough material to work with.”
“May I . . .”
I slid it off my shoulder and handed it to her.
“This is fantastic,” she said. “I’m not just saying that. I’d totally buy one of these.”
“Really?” I asked in surprise.
“Oh, yeah. Upcycling is a huge thing right now. I love that you used an old quilt.”
“Thank you,” I said, my cheeks rosy from her praise.
She returned my bag to me and looked at Bill and Archer. “I think our husbands are becoming fast friends.”
I blinked. “Oh, Archer and I aren’t married.”
“You’re not?” She frowned, her gaze bouncing from me to Archer to Lenni who’d gone with Summer to one of the couches. The two of them were curled toward each other, like a pair of shrimps.
“Oh,” Tanya said. “I just assumed—the way Lenni talked about you . . . She mentioned her mother was . . . I thought you were the stepmom.”
A warm ball of happiness settled in my ribcage.
“Nanny,” I corrected.
For the next week anyway.
“I see. Well, sorry for putting my foot in my mouth.” She shook her head. “I kind of say whatever’s on my mind. Speak first, think later.”
“That works for me,” I said with a wry grin.
“You all should come over for dinner one night soon,” she invited. “We just got a new grill and Bill’s been dying to use it when we have guests over.”
Before I could respond, she pulled out her cell phone from her back pocket.
She unlocked it and handed it to me. “Put in your number. Once a month, I try and get some of the other moms in Summer’s class together for a little wine, cheese and recipe exchange night.
You should come to the next one. Get to know some other people.
Fair warning, none of us can hold our liquor. ”
“Sounds fun.”
And it did. But they weren’t going to be my group of people. I didn’t tell Tanya that though.
I handed her phone back to her and she shoved it into her pocket.
“So, you moved here recently?” she asked.
“A few weeks ago,” I explained. “Poet’s my best friend.”
“How did you both wind up out here?”
“Hadley and Salem Powell,” I explained. “They were our roommates in New York. But one by one, they moved here. And here I am.”
“Here you are,” she said with a laugh. “So, you know Muddy?”
“I know Muddy.” I looked around for her but didn’t see her. Frowning, I wondered where she’d gone off to.
She wasn’t with Salem or Hadley who were standing with their husbands. I chuckled to myself. There were so many brawny, masculine men in such a feminine, cozy space it brought a smile to my face.
Lenni got up off the couch and came to us. “So, can I spend the night at Summer’s house?”
I deferred to Archer.
“Yeah, you can,” he said.
“Can she bring Mildred?” Summer asked.
Tanya frowned. “Mildred? Who’s Mildred?”
“Wyn’s mini dachshund,” Lenni explained. “But she likes to sleep next to me. She’s house trained.”
“Okay by me,” Bill said.
“Yay!” Summer exclaimed. “Come on, let’s go to your house and get your dog and your toothbrush.”
“Hold on,” I said, tugging on Lenni’s braid. “You have four rules. No tattoos, no piercings, no falling in love with fictional book boyfriends. And remember your manners.”
Lenni grinned. “Okay, Wyn.”
Tanya chuckled. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“And we’ll stop off and get some ice cream on the way home,” Bill said. “We’re out.”
I looked at Lenni. “I need photos of the reading nook in the attic.”
“You got it,” Lenni said. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a quick hug and then she did the same to her father.
“I’ll text you,” Tanya said to me.
The four of them left, leaving me alone with Archer.
“What’s she texting you about?” Archer asked.
I nibbled my lip. “There’s a mothers’ group that gets together once a month for wine, cheese and recipe exchanges. She thought I’d enjoy it. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I won’t be Lenni’s nanny by then.”
He peered at me for a long moment and then he nodded. Salem and Hadley waddled toward us, their men trailing behind them.
“Where did Lenni go?” Salem asked.
“Sleepover at a friend’s house,” I explained. “Hey, has anyone seen Muddy? It felt like she was here for a brief moment and then she was gone.”
“She had a headache,” Hadley said. “Grampy took her home. On that note, we’re about to get out of here too. I’m zonked.”
“Let’s congratulate Poet and then say goodbye,” Salem said.
“You’re the boss, boss,” Cas joked to his wife.
“I need a sweet treat before bed,” Salem said.
“Oh, yes, same,” Hadley agreed with a nod. She looked at Declan with wide eyes.
He smiled down at her. “There’s a mini chocolate raspberry torte in the fridge for you and Salem to share.”
I hugged my friends and then they went to say goodbye to Poet.
It would’ve been easy to tease Cas and Declan about doing everything in their power to make their wives happy. But honestly, it’s what I wanted for myself.
Someone to choose me above all others.
Archer and I headed to the counter, our hands still clasped together. Poet clocked it immediately, but she didn’t say anything. “You guys leaving too?”
“Yes,” I said. “Is that okay?”
Poet beamed. “Absolutely.”
“You sure? I feel like a butt for not staying and helping you clean up.”
“I have Brooks,” Poet said, shooting her fiancé a look.
“You do.” He wrapped an arm around her and hooked her toward him. She was so petite compared to him, but he was always so gentle and caring with her.
God, I loved that for her.
I reached out to her with my free hand. She took it and I gave it a squeeze. “Congratulations, Poet. Your store is beautiful.”
Archer placed a hand at my lower back and guided me toward the exit. There were a few coat racks by the door and Archer found our jackets. He helped me into mine and let his hands linger on the collar.
We went out into the cold night air, our boots hitting the freshly cleared and salted sidewalk. The pristine snow was still piled up on the grass. In New York, the snow would’ve been black and disgusting already.
“Let’s hit the Copper Mule,” Archer said. “We’ll grab a drink. Shoot the shit.”
“That sounds like a date.”
“Okay, then let’s go home and get naked.”
I glared at him.
He winked. “You’re trying not to find me adorable. News flash. It’s not gonna work.”
I sighed in defeat. “One drink.”
Archer opened the heavy door to the Copper Mule, and we headed inside. It was warm and smelled like barbecue. The vintage juke box was playing a song I didn’t recognize. Something country. Something twangy.
Archer began to sing a long, making me raise my brows in surprise.
“You like country?” I asked.
“You don’t?”
I shrugged. “Never got into it.”
We headed for the bar and Archer looked at me. I ordered a beer. He did the same and then we took them to a vacant booth.
“Cheers,” he said, lifting his pint.
I clinked my glass against his and then took a sip.
He peered at me. “It’s been two days, and you still won’t talk about it.”
I swallowed a hefty drink. “I think Lenni’ll have fun tonight. Don’t you?”
“Let’s not talk about Lenni.”
“Why not?”
“Because we always talk about her. I want to talk about you. Us.”
“Us? There’s no us,” I stated.
“There’s an us,” he said, leaning back against the booth.
“How do you figure?” I demanded.
“We’ve taken our relationship to the next level by having epic sexual relations on the floor of our shared living space.”
“It wasn’t that epic,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat.
“Liar. Look, Wyn. I’m gonna lay it out for you, okay? There’s an us. I’m not dating anyone else. You’re not dating anyone else—”
“How do you know that?”
“You don’t spend your nights off outside the house. You stay home in your room with your sewing machine. Ergo, you’re not dating anyone.”
“Or I could be sneaking out after you go to bed and be painting the town red.”
“The town? The town that closes down at nine o’clock, sometimes ten if a place is busy. This town? Plus, I’ve heard no gossip about you. Aside from that Garrett flirting thing, but that’s already died out.”
“Gossip about me?” I asked. “Why would anyone gossip about me?”
“Because this is Huckleberry Hill. Everyone gossips. You’ve been hiding, Wyn.” He leaned forward. “It’s time to stop.”