Tessa always felt revived after a couple of hours spent painting. Even better, she’d stopped in at a thrift store on her way back to Arch’s home and found a retro crochet dress in cream that fit perfectly and cost next to nothing. So, she arrived feeling utterly content. Lately, she’d taken to painting outdoors whenever she had time off, and she’d been working on a beach landscape that was going particularly well.
Flushed and, if she were truthful, excited to see Arch again after some time apart, she called hello, and then went straight upstairs to drop off her backpack, her easel, and her new dress, and freshen up.
It wasn’t until she’d splashed some cold water on her face that she realized she hadn’t heard Arch reply.
Surely he couldn’t have gone out alone? Maybe one of the Davenports had dropped by. But when that was the case, he usually left a note by the door.
She raced downstairs and into the living room.
To her relief, she found him sitting in his usual spot in the reclining chair. His laptop was open in front of him, and she frowned. He was supposed to be taking an afternoon nap while she was gone, not working.
She was about to give him a talking-to when she noticed the expression on his face. His usually sparkling eyes were full of anguish. Immediately, her heart pounded with worry. He was so stoic, but by now she knew when he was hurting. It broke her heart to see it. But this was something more than just his aching leg.
She rushed over and asked, “What is it, Arch? Something seems really wrong.”
After what seemed like forever, Arch looked away from the screen and up at Tessa. He swallowed hard. “The director sent me a video of the stunt from the buddy movie. The one that landed me in this.” He gestured to the cast on his leg.
She walked around behind him, and he tapped Play. A golden desert scene appeared before her, the dust in the air dancing in the sun’s rays. The camera panned across the impressive landscape, over a glistening river, and then in the distance, she saw Arch on the back of a horse in full Western cowboy gear.
He looked so handsome and strong up there, she almost gasped. This was the Archer Davenport, gorgeous and magnetic, she had swooned over as a younger woman. The man she still swooned over.
Then, with a speed that wowed her, the chestnut-colored horse took off at full speed, and she watched, riveted and horrified in equal measure, as the huge, powerful animal galloped across the screen toward the river. Arch rode well, his body in rhythm with the animal’s, but then—
A terrible explosion sounded. Even though she’d known from his description of the accident that it was coming, her body still jerked. The horse spooked just as it was about to jump over the river.
And then the fall.
Oh God… the fall.
Arch’s body tumbling in slow motion, down, down. And then a closeup of the horrific pain on Arch’s face as the horse rolled over his leg.
Tessa cried out.
She couldn’t help it.
The camera moved to the hat lying on the gravel.
Arch’s fall had been terrible, and before she knew what she was doing, she put her hand on his shoulder and heard her own voice tremble as she said, “I’ll never be able to unsee that in my head.” She looked at her hand. She was actually shaking. “You could have been killed.”
He put his hand over hers as if to give her comfort. “You’re not the first person who’s told me that.”
She pulled away and came around to sit opposite him. All of a sudden, she was furious.
Angry because Arch had misled her about the accident and downplayed the whole thing.
Upset because the idea that he could have been killed turned her world upside down.
The two emotions battled for precedence, and to her dismay, she found tears pricking her eyes. She cared about him so much already, despite the lies that she’d been telling herself.
The awful truth was, he wasn’t just another client.
“Tessa,” Arch said softly.
He had noticed her tears, and she lowered her eyes, embarrassed. “Why? Why would you do a stunt that’s so dangerous?”
She wasn’t judging him. She just couldn’t understand why he would put himself in so much danger. Too many people loved him for him to be so reckless.
If she had that many people who loved her—or even one man who truly adored her, heart and soul—she would never have taken such a risk.
* * *
Arch gazed deeply into Tessa’s eyes. He couldn’t believe how much worry he saw there, and he felt terrible about showing her the clip. He’d upset her, and that was the last thing he’d intended. He swallowed and decided to tell her the truth.
“I love my family so much,” he began, “so don’t get me wrong when I say this. Nick is three years older than me. Finn is two years older. They were bigger, tougher, and could do the things I couldn’t. I wasn’t the tallest or the toughest, but whenever I heard ‘it’s too hard for you’ from one of them, or my parents, it was like something inside me went crazy. I’d have to prove to everybody that I was big enough, tough enough. It got so ingrained in me that I still react that way.”
Tessa looked to be deep in thought. “Mila says everyone in your family is stubborn and determined.”
“She’s right,” he conceded. “Although Mila’s even worse than my brothers. She’s only a year younger than me, and when we were kids, she was tougher than any of the boys. She still is. So, if I wasn’t trying to keep up with my big brothers, I was trying to keep up with one of my little sisters. And even Erin, in her quiet way… sometimes I wonder if she’s the toughest of all of us.”
Tessa turned her gaze away from him and back to the screen. For a moment, they both stared at the frozen shot of the flattened hat on the ground.
In a gentle tone, she said, “You don’t have to prove anything anymore.”
Arch let out a small laugh. “You sound like my mom. And Mila. And, frankly, everyone else who’s talked with me about the accident.”
But Tessa didn’t crack a smile. She still looked deeply worried, and it hurt him to see the pain etched across her forehead.
“I know I have no right to tell you this,” she said, “but I can’t keep it in. Please don’t do another stunt like this one.” There was a painful pause. In a husky tone, she said, “Your mom’s not the only one who cares about you. I do too.”
He searched her face, her eyes. She was sincere, as always. Tessa was the most down-to-earth person he’d ever met.
Instinctively, he leaned toward her. She was so close that he could catch the scent of her. His stomach somersaulted.
She wanted him to kiss her. He could feel it. And, man alive, he had thought about this moment enough. He turned his head and was about to press his lips to hers when she pulled away.
He stared at her, shocked. Had he read the signs all wrong again? But no. There was desire in her eyes. She couldn’t hide it.
She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
But clearly, she wasn’t ready, and he respected that. Instead, he would store away the information she’d let slip.
She cared about him. I do too. Never had three words meant so much.
He cared about her too. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to admit to her that he’d seen her painting—and that she no longer had to hide any part of herself from him. Earlier, he’d decided to wait until she felt comfortable enough with him and trusted him enough to tell him that she was an artist. But though that did make sense, when he did finally tell her he knew, would she be stunned and hurt by the fact that he hadn’t come clean right away?
So instead of mentioning her painting, he wanted to give her what she’d just said she wanted from him. “I won’t do another stunt like that.” And he meant it.
It was a promise he hadn’t even been able to make for his mom. But he couldn’t stop himself from making it for Tessa.
At this, she gave him the most beautifully radiant smile he’d ever seen. “Good.”
And for a moment, every single thing in the world felt just right.
“I’d better start dinner,” she said, and he felt a jolt of happiness when she walked into the kitchen and exclaimed, “Oh, how beautiful,” when she saw the flowers.
He’d bought a crazy-huge bouquet that included everything from sunflowers to daisies to roses and had Mila place it in a large vase on the kitchen table. He’d taken his time choosing the perfect thank-you card and could tell from the heavy silence that Tessa was reading it.
“Oh, Arch,” she said, coming back toward him, the card in her hand. “You don’t have to thank me for doing my job.” But he could see how pleased she was.
“As I said in there,” he reminded her, “you make my life better in every way. Flowers are the least I can do to say thank you.”
Oh yes, there were so many ways he wanted to thank her… but he’d vowed that she had to make the next move. So until then, he’d wait and dream of this woman.
The one he was falling more head over heels for every second of every day.