Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
DARCY
“You cannot sleep on the couch!” I quietly hissed at Archer once I was sure no one was listening from the other side of my bedroom door.
If I had known my dad and Cory were going to follow my mom and I into the kitchen, I never would’ve left.
Anytime Linnea or I, but mainly Linnea, had brought a boyfriend home, my golden retriever brother turned into a German shepherd.
Meaning, leaving him alone with Archer had been a terrible idea, and I couldn’t trust him not to be posted up outside my bedroom door, waiting for the first sounds of trouble.
“You seriously want us to share a bed?” Archer stared at the object in question as if it had personally offended him.
Rolling my eyes, I brushed past him so I could get to my suitcase.
I rifled through everything I’d shoved in there until I found the oversized sleep shirt and cotton shorts I’d packed for sleeping.
“We’ve shared a whole hell of a lot more than a bed.
I think you’ll be okay. Besides, it’d be awfully strange if my boyfriend slept on the couch. ”
“And I’m just supposed to believe your dad or your brother aren’t going to kick the door down in the middle of the night with a rifle aimed at me?”
I laughed. “Okay, one, my dad doesn’t own a gun that I know of, and Garrett carries a pistol, not a rifle.
” Archer’s answering scowl was a balm to the tension I’d been carrying all dinner.
I enjoyed pushing his buttons far too much.
“And two, I’m twenty-eight years old. Now, are you going to turn around so I can change? ”
The mention of changing had his eyes running down my body, and then he smirked at me. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you naked, Darcy.”
My mouth popped open but nothing came out. We stared at each other, and not for the first time I thought about how much easier it would be to ignore the pull between us if he were ugly. Why couldn’t he have a hunchback?
“But yes, I’ll turn around.”
Before I could respond, he was turning around. I quickly changed, peeking over my shoulder every now and then to see if he was stealing his own peeks, but true to his word, he stayed turned away. Why did that annoy me?
I pulled the hem of the shirt over my shorts, and untucked my hair from the collar. “Okay, you’re good.” Walking to the edge of the bed, I pulled the covers back and climbed in, adjusting my pillow and lying down.
Archer stood as far away from the bed as he possibly could in my tiny bedroom, hesitance and something darker forming a fog over his mossy eyes. Concern? Fear? No, that wouldn’t make sense.
“You’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor, but it’s hardwood. I wouldn’t recommend it.” When he still didn’t move, or blink, a moment later I sat up. “Arch? For real. It’s fine. I don’t bite.”
That snapped him out of his trance, and his gaze collided with mine, the tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, but I do.”
“Nevermind. You can sleep on the floor.” I flopped back down against the mattress and slammed my eyes shut, willing myself to fall asleep instantly so that I didn’t spend time questioning why he’d bring that up.
But then I heard the sound of clothing rustling, and I guess I wasn’t as good as he was because I absolutely peeked.
The second I did, however, I knew it was a mistake.
His back was to me, but he’d already disposed of his sweatshirt and T-shirt, leaving the muscular expanse of his back on display.
Dark tattoos covered most of him, but I hadn’t taken the time to really inspect them the only other time I’d seen him in this state of undress.
Black and gray flames licked up the base of his spine, blending seamlessly into an American flag that ran the rest of the way up to his shoulder.
Directly over his spine, was a masked firefighter carrying an axe, his helmet reflecting the flames he was walking into.
It was a huge piece, one that had to have taken hours upon hours.
My first thought was “Cory needs to see this” which was immediately met with a sinking feeling in my stomach because I .
. . what? Wanted to be the only woman to see his back?
I needed to get a grip. It was just a back.
A really muscular back.
“Staring is rude, you know.” He’d turned, giving me an eyeful of chiseled abs and more ink. These damn pregnancy hormones had me foaming at the mouth, and I was beginning to think that maybe it really would be best for him to sleep on the floor.
Caught red-handed, and flustered enough, I blurted the first thing that came to mind when I averted my ogling eyes. “Your suitcase is packed like a game of Tetris.”
He walked over to his side of the bed, black sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, and an eyebrow cocked as he nodded in my direction. “Yes, well, some of us don’t want our clothing to be a wrinkled mess.”
“I didn’t peg you for being a type A neat freak, but I guess that makes sense.” I tried to keep my breathing steady as he slid under the covers, the warmth of his body instantly radiating toward me.
“How so?” He was lying on his back, but his head was turned toward mine. In my full-sized bed, we were close enough that I could smell the mint of his toothpaste.
“You looked at my car earlier like it was a dumpster on wheels.”
“You have your whole house haphazardly thrown in there.”
I laughed a genuine laugh. “What I’m hearing is that you’re jealous of my preparedness because your bike can’t hold anything.”
He shook his head. “Such a brat.”
I propped myself up on an elbow and glared down at him. “You need to stop calling me that.”
“Not a chance.” He folded his hands behind his head, smugness coloring his expression.
“Why?”
“Because I like the fire it puts in your eyes.”
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting, and it threw me. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a little too obsessed with fire?”
“Yes,” he answered unabashedly. “That’s kind of the whole reason why we’re doing this, remember?”
I scowled at him for a few more seconds, then rolled over and turned the light off, drenching us in darkness. We were silent for a moment, and I was perfectly content to end our conversation there, but then he spoke.
“Goodnight, Brat.”
My foot reared back and connected with the side of his thigh, his resulting chuckle echoing in the space between us, and I tried not to ruminate on how much I liked the sound of it.
***
I awoke to screaming.
Deep, guttural screams.
At first, I thought it was coming from outside, but then an arm hit me, and I realized it was coming from the man beside me. A man who was still asleep.
I flew up, scrambling onto my knees next to him, my head spinning from both moving too fast, and the dissipating fog of sleep. His face was twisted in pain, so much pain, and in between screams he was muttering words I couldn’t understand.
Placing my hands on the side of his face, I leaned toward him. “Archer? Archer, wake up!”
His eyelids flew open, revealing panicked, bloodshot eyes that scanned the room rapidly, and it was then that I noticed his cheeks were wet with tears.
When he looked at me, he was alert, but he wasn’t here with me; he was somewhere else entirely.
The agony that had devastated his unconscious self was still written in his features, his heart beating so hard in his chest, I could feel it in the place where my arms rested on him.
I let my hands stroke the sides of his face and over his head. “Shhh. You’re okay now, Arch. It’s just me. It’s Darcy. You’re okay.”
One second I was above him, the next he hauled me against him, my body covering his, as he crushed me in the tightest hug I’d ever been a part of. He buried his face in my neck, pulling deep, shaky inhales through his nose as he tried to calm himself.
“Darcy?” My heart shattered at the fear in his voice, a physical pain taking hold in my chest and my throat tightening with unshed tears. What had he been dreaming about to cause this level of terror in a man I’d otherwise thought to be fearless?
“It’s me. I’m right here. It’s just us, Arch. It wasn’t real,” I whispered against his skin, my hands still stroking soothing touches over his hair.
“It used to be.” His voice cracked, and his body continued to shake underneath mine.
I pulled away as much as his grip around my ribcage would allow and placed a hand over his pounding heart. “It’s not anymore. I am.” I reached behind me, grabbing his hand and placing it over my own frantic heart. “I’m real. I’m real, and I’m right here. Focus on that.”
He nodded and closed his eyes, still taking deep lungfuls of air, all while his hand pressed firmly against my chest. I didn’t dare move.
A knock at my door made us both startle. “Darcy? Archer? Are you guys okay?” my father called from the other side.
Archer released me and I hurried to the door before he barged in. I cracked it open, only to find my dad, mom, and brother on the other side, all with frantically alert, yet sleepy eyes.
“Yeah, we’re okay. Sorry to wake you all,” I offered, smiling reassuringly.
Garrett’s eyes homed in on me like a human lie detector, scanning for any trace of insincerity. “We heard screaming.”
I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “I accidentally kicked Archer in my sleep—pretty hard. In the . . . you know. So, yeah. Screaming. He’s okay though. Sorry again.”
That was enough explanation for my dad, who nodded and retreated down the hall, a snickering Shelby on his heels.
Garrett, on the other hand, lingered another moment, as if our parents leaving would get the truth out of me.
When I didn’t offer anything more, he grumbled something about being quiet, then headed back to his own room.