21. That Time with the Traffic Cone
Chapter 21
That Time with the Traffic Cone
Archer
I watched from the host stand as Declan pushed the remainder of his dessert around his plate, his eyes scanning the dining room like a hawk searching for its prey. I knew exactly who he was waiting for, and it made my blood boil. He’d given up any right to Tessa’s time or attention when he’d called off their wedding; yet here he was, acting like he had a claim on her.
I couldn’t reconcile the fact that Tessa had been engaged to Declan. Not because he was a monster—although his constant complaining was certainly pushing him into that territory—but because he was so... bland. The man had the personality of a beige wall and the conversational skills of a dull tax seminar. How could someone as vibrant and full of life as Tessa have ever considered spending the rest of her life with someone like him?
Evan sidled up next to me, following my gaze. “He’s still here.” His voice was laced with the same annoyance I felt. “He’s like a persistent rash.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “He probably wants to try and talk things out with Tessa again.”
Evan rolled his eyes. “Well, we can’t have that. She’s finally starting to relax and enjoy herself. We can’t let the human equivalent of unseasoned chicken ruin it.”
I couldn’t help but smirk as Evan and I exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between us. We couldn’t physically remove Declan, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t make him uncomfortable enough to leave on his own accord. It was childish, sure, but there was a certain thrill in petty revenge. It reminded me of the pranks we used to pull in college before life got complicated.
“What’s the plan?” Liam joined us, his eyes landing on Declan. “Are we going to jump him or what?”
I glanced around the dining room, an idea forming in my mind. “We make him uncomfortable, but subtly. We don’t want to disturb the other guests.”
Evan grinned, rubbing his hands together like a villain plotting world domination. “I’m in. What do you have in mind?”
I nodded towards the thermostat on the wall, fighting back my own smirk. “Phase one: Operation Freeze Out.” It wasn’t my most creative plan, but sometimes the classics worked best. Besides, Declan had shown up in a thin designer sweater that looked expensive but provided about as much warmth as tissue paper.
“I’ll go turn the thermostat down.” Liam was already moving toward the thermostat with the stealth of someone who’d had plenty of practice at subtle sabotage. He paused, throwing a conspiratorial look over his shoulder. “You know, for energy efficiency purposes. We’re being environmentally conscious here.”
Sure enough, within minutes, Declan started shifting uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing his arms. He looked around, confused, gathered his unfinished glass of wine, and relocated to the bar area where several other guests were enjoying after-dinner drinks.
“Well, that backfired spectacularly.” I watched Declan settle into his new spot like an unwanted houseguest who wouldn’t take the hint. “Now he’s even closer to the kitchen.” In trying to protect Tessa, we’d managed to position him exactly where she’d be most likely to run into him. Some master strategist I was turning out to be.
“We need something more... targeted.” Evan stroked his chin in an exaggerated way.
Liam’s face lit up with unholy glee. “I have an idea. Phase two: Operation Peggy. Archer, you’re the only one who can pull this off with a straight face.”
“Peggy?” I was confused at first, and then my face might as well have erupted in flames. “No.”
“Yes,” both Evan and Liam said in unison.
“Absolutely not.” I hadn’t thought about Peggy in years and didn’t know if I had the chops to still do it without laughing.
“Come on.” Liam nudged me with his elbow. “Remember all the fun we used to have doing it?”
“I remember having dignity.” Memories of our college shenanigans flashed through my mind. “Though dignity is overrated, and technically, this is a business strategy.” My smirk widened as I justified it to myself. “We’re protecting our chef from harassment. Very professional.” The words ‘our chef’ came out more possessively than I’d intended.
Evan clapped me on the back with enough force to make me stumble forward half a step, his grin so wide it practically split his face. “This is going to be epic. Go get him, tiger.” He wiggled his eyebrows in that insufferable way that made him look like a cartoon character, and I fought the urge to smack him.
Ten minutes later, I sat next to Declan at the bar, nursing a whiskey and holding my phone to my ear. The things I did for... well, I wasn’t quite ready to define what this thing with Tessa was yet.
He glanced at me, then did a double take, his eyes narrowing in recognition. I gave him a polite nod.
“No, Peggy.” I kept my voice loud enough for only Declan to hear and leaned back in my seat, getting into character. “The cucumber was too small… Yes, I tried the zucchini too.” I paused, noting how Declan’s shoulders stiffened. “The eggplant? No, that’s for Tuesday’s dinner.”
Declan’s hand tightened on his wineglass, and from across the bar, Evan was practically stuffing his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing, and Liam was grinning.
“Mm... I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Do you want to watch me take it like a good little boy?” I lowered my voice suggestively. “Yes, ma’am.”
Declan shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on his drink. I bit back a laugh, keeping my expression neutral. This was harder than expected, but I was soldiering on.
“What about a butternut squash?” I rubbed my chin in consideration, and Declan’s face turned an interesting shade of pink. “It might hit the spot if you know what I mean… What?… No, I already tried the rolling pin. The wood is a little too rough, and you know how sensitive I am back there.”
Declan choked on his drink, sputtering and coughing as red liquid dribbled down his chin and onto his sweater. It gave me a vindictive sort of satisfaction I hadn’t felt in a long time, even with all my wins in court.
“Maybe I should special order something?” I sighed dramatically and traced my fingertip around the rim of my glass as I stared off with what I hoped was a wistful expression. “I don’t know if anything will compare to that time with the traffic cone.” I let my voice drop to a husky whisper on the last two words. “Although I think your fist would be satisfying enough. It would really stretch me out.”
Declan stood up so quickly his barstool wobbled. “I think I’ll turn in for the night,” he announced to no one in particular, his voice slightly higher than usual. He gulped down the rest of his wine and practically ran from the bar.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Evan and Liam materialized beside me, both of them shaking with laughter.
“A traffic cone?” Liam wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes as he braced himself against the bar. “That was inspired. Absolutely inspired.” His shoulders shook, and I had to admit, seeing him laugh was worth it.
I set down my phone and grabbed my drink. “I was going to mention a garden gnome next.”
“The Archer we know and love is still in there somewhere.” Evan threw his arms around me in an exuberant bear hug, nearly knocking me off my barstool.
I gave him two pats on the back before extracting myself from his octopus-like grip. “Don’t get used to it,” I warned, straightening my tie. Though, I had to admit it had been more satisfying than I’d expected.
Our old dynamic had been resurfacing all day like there hadn’t been a decade of silence. But more than that, it was a reminder of who I used to be. The Archer who laughed easily and who didn’t take life so seriously. That part of me had been buried for so long, I’d almost forgotten it existed.
Tessa emerged from the kitchen, arms laden with what appeared to be enough food to feed a small army. Her cheeks were flushed from the kitchen heat, and her hair had escaped from her messy bun in wispy tendrils that made my fingers itch to tuck them back into place.
“Am I interrupting something?” She glanced between the three of us, taking in our barely contained amusement.
“Archer needed a hug after being pegged,” Liam managed with a straight face that deserved an Oscar nomination.
I choked on air while Evan dissolved into another fit of laughter.
Tessa’s eyes widened comically. “I... what... you know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
She looked at us like we’d all lost our minds. Maybe we had. It felt good though, like slipping into an old, comfortable sweater I’d forgotten I owned.
“Let’s get out of here. The snow’s really coming down now.” I took some of the bags from her, our fingers brushing. Even that brief contact sent a jolt through my system.
After grabbing our coats, we went outside where the snow was falling, creating a dreamlike quality to the world.
I helped Tessa onto the back of my snowmobile, trying not to focus on how she pressed against me as her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. The quarter-mile ride to the cabin was both too long and not long enough. Tessa’s warmth against my back was a stark contrast to the biting cold of the wind, and I found myself wanting to take longer but also not wanting her to freeze.
When we pulled up to the cabin, I heard her soft gasp of appreciation. The snow made it look like something out of a Christmas movie.
Once inside, she spun slowly, taking in the open floor plan and the single bedroom visible through the door. “Wow. I’m surprised you three haven’t killed each other yet.”
“The jury’s still out on that one.” I arranged the contents of the food bags in the refrigerator.
“There have been some close calls.” Evan kicked off his boots with his usual disregard, leaving them directly in front of the door where someone would inevitably trip over them. “We put your bags in the bedroom and put some fresh towels on the counter in the bathroom if you want to take a shower.”
Tessa wandered to the bedroom door, her fingers trailing along the wooden doorframe as she peeked inside. The casual intimacy of her exploring our space made something shift in my chest. “One bed and two bunks? Who gets the bed?”
“We rotate monthly.” Liam busied himself starting a fire in the wood-burning stove. “This cabin used to be for Gavin’s family and friends or for VIPs. It wasn’t really meant to be stayed in long term.”
“Interesting.” Tessa’s lips curved into a smile. “What if this would have happened and all three of you were married with kids?” I could practically see her imagining the chaos of three families crammed into this space.
I’d questioned it about a million times myself. Gavin hadn’t been sick as far as we knew, but it was possible he didn’t want anyone to know. It was the only explanation I could come up with for why he would include something with a timing sensitivity unless he had planned on updating his documents every year.
“Maybe he decided it would be a good prank.” Evan didn’t sound like he believed that, and his usual playful demeanor faltered as he stared into the flames. Gavin had had some elaborate schemes, but this felt different. More purposeful.
It was quiet for a few moments, the kind of heavy silence that settles when everyone’s lost in their own thoughts. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft whisper of snow against the windows. I watched Tessa, noting how she seemed to be processing everything we’d said, that sharp mind of hers probably piecing together parts of the puzzle we couldn’t see.
Finally, she sighed, pulling the hair tie out of her hair. “I’m going to take a shower.” There was something endearing about how she announced it, like she was giving us fair warning that she was about to stake her claim on our shared bathroom.
She disappeared, and I waited until I heard the shower running before turning to face Evan and Liam. The elephant in the room had grown too large to ignore, and someone needed to address it. Naturally, that someone would be me.
“We need to talk about this situation.” I took off my tie, draping it on the back of the couch. “Whatever this is between us and Tessa.”
“You mean how we’re all sleeping with her?” Evan was sprawled across the couch now, his casual demeanor at odds with the tension in his voice. “Or how we’re all falling for her?”
“Both.” I ran a hand through my hair, pacing in front of the TV. “This isn’t sustainable. Eventually, she’s going to have to choose.”
Liam snorted from his position by the fire. “Like you’d be okay with that if she chose one of us over you.”
“I didn’t say I’d like it.” The admission cost me more than I cared to admit. “But we can’t share her forever. That’s not how relationships work in the real world.”
“Says who?” Evan sat up, his normally relaxed posture now alert and challenging as he fixed me with an unusually intense stare. “We’re already breaking every conventional relationship rule in the book. Why stop now?” The way he said it made it sound so simple, like we were discussing what to have for dinner instead of upending societal norms.
“Because—” I started, then stopped, the words dying in my throat as I realized I didn’t have a good answer beyond ‘that’s how things are done.’ And wasn’t that perfect? Me, who always had a response ready, who prided myself on having sound reasoning. Of course, Evan, of all people, was making the most logical argument.
“Because you’re scared.” Liam’s voice was gentler than I expected. “We all are. This thing with Tessa... it’s different from anything I’ve experienced.”
Evan stood up, crossing to the kitchen to grab beers for all of us. “We’re actually talking again. Like really talking, not just about business.”
I accepted the beer, taking a long pull while I considered his words. He had a point. In the past few days, we’d remembered how to be friends again, not just business partners who barely tolerated each other on a good day.
“But what happens when she does choose?” I voiced the fear that had been gnawing at me. It was maddening how someone could slip past decades of carefully constructed walls in only a few days.
“What if she doesn’t want to choose?” Liam challenged, his eyes intense in the firelight, reflecting the same uncertainty I felt. He shifted his weight, running his thumb along the label of his beer bottle. “What if we’re the ones making this complicated by assuming she has to?”
I sat down in a chair, lost in thought. Could I handle all the uncertainty that came with this? It was risky not only for my heart but for the business we were supposed to be running together. Things had already been tense between us, and this would completely destroy everything if we let it.
But somewhere in the back of my head, I knew that wasn’t the case. We were talking about our feelings instead of ignoring them or fighting over Tessa. And Tessa?
The mere thought of her made me smile.
The shower shut off, and I could hear Tessa humming some pop song through the bathroom door. The sound made something in my chest ache in a way I wasn’t ready to examine too closely.
“Look…” Evan leaned forward, his voice low but urgent. “We’ve spent over ten years letting one woman destroy our friendship, and maybe this is our chance to let another one fix it.”
“That’s a lot of pressure to put on her.” My resolve was weakening… if it had even really been there at all.
“Then let’s not put it on her.” Liam stood, adding another log to the stove. “Let’s figure it out ourselves. We’re not college kids anymore. We can handle this like adults.”
The bathroom door opened, and all coherent thought fled my mind. Tessa stood in the doorway, wrapped in nothing but a towel, her wet hair falling in dark waves around her shoulders. Steam billowed out behind her like she was making a grand entrance in a music video. “I can hear you all having an existential crisis out here.”
“We were just discussing...” I trailed off as she walked toward us, water droplets trailing down her collarbones in a way that made my mouth go dry.
“Logistics.” Evan’s eyes were fixed on Tessa with the same intensity as mine.
“Your right to choose.” Liam took a long pull of his beer and perched on the arm of the couch.
Tessa made a humming noise in her throat, stopping in the middle of the living room. “Well, let me make this simple for you. I’m not choosing.”
Before any of us could process that statement, she dropped her towel.
I forgot how to breathe. Forgot my own name. Forgot everything except the sight of her standing there, completely bare and completely confident in front of the three of us.
“Now,” she said, her voice both sultry and amused, “are we done overthinking this?”
The sound of three men simultaneously trying to form coherent responses while also standing up too quickly was probably comical, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
She smiled, and I knew we were all completely, utterly done for.