| |
Archer shuffled down the street, head down, and hands shoved in his pockets. He’d gone for a walk, hoping to clear his head. He couldn’t make his mind focus on any one topic long enough for him to figure out a solution, so his thoughts swirled with concerns he didn’t have answers for.
He’d have to rearrange some of his orders for the month, to pay his power bill. There was no way around it. But what about next month? Or the month after?
And then, there was Tori. Who, given everything else, should be at the bottom of his worry list. She was at the forefront of his mind—the incredible night with her, her voice, her pleas, and the fact that with one little verbal slip she’d been gone. He hadn’t seen her for over a week, and she ignored his texts.
He could stop by her house, but if she was working—and there was a ninety-nine percent chance of that—it would be easy for her to tell him she didn’t have time. He shouldn’t have pushed her the other day, but she said she was okay with the no-strings sex. A bitter laugh rolled through him. He should’ve known better. She was so closed off. Why would this be any different?
Is it possible this doesn’t all fall on her? The question nagged him. All right, so maybe mentioning Riley hadn’t been the best idea. It wasn’t as if he compared the two, though. And Riley had been the furthest thought from his mind when Tori sat naked in his lap.
The memory played through his head, temporarily distracting him. Middle of the street—not the best place for a hard-on. He needed to figure out how to get Tori to talk to him again. Maybe start with an apology? And he needed to stop talking to himself.
A familiar voice caught his attention. Great. Now he was hearing Tori. He looked anyway, and there she was, a little ways down the street, outside her future sister-in-law’s diner. On the phone. Go figure.
Whoever she was talking to—guessing wasn’t difficult; it would be someone from work—had her pacing, gaze on the ground and upper lip pulled in a sneer.
Even engulfed in a heavy cloud of irritation, she looked incredible. She’d tied her long hair back into a bun and held it in place with a pen. The squares on her Tetris T-shirt seemed strategically placed, to draw the eye to her chest.
She hung up, a scowl marring her face, and then headed inside without seeing him.
This was an opportunity to clear the air. And next month’s power bill hadn’t come yet, so he had a little more time to find a solution to that particular problem. He pushed into Gwen’s diner. Even in a crowded dining room, it only took a second to spot Tori at a table in a back corner, checking her phone every few seconds.
He dropped onto the bench across from her. “Come here often?”
She let out a tiny squeak and looked up. “Holy shit. You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He tried to mean it. He hadn’t wanted to startle her, and he had to force his hand to stay by his side instead of brushing over her red cheeks. “We haven’t talked in a while, so I wanted to say hi.”
“I know. I’ve been—”
“Busy. Right.” He’d expected that. “But you’ve got a few minutes now?”
“I had to drop off fabric samples for Gwen’s dress, and she’s making me sit and eat, but I have to get back to work soon.”
Of course she did. He didn’t want to push her into an uncomfortable situation, but they had to have this conversation.
“She’s doing me a favor, so lunch is on me,” Gwen said from behind him. “You want to toss anything on her ticket?”
He wasn’t so broke he couldn’t afford to feed himself. He didn’t need charity. It’s a genuine offer. It didn’t matter. The logic couldn’t squash the whisper of envy that Gwen could afford to do things like give away free meals, while he struggled to pay utilities. “Water. I don’t know if I’m staying.”
“One cheeseburger, extra cheddar.” Gwen spun away.
Apparently, he was predictable. Another day he might put up a valiant front and argue, but right now, he’d rather be talking to Tori. Who continued to glance at her phone every few seconds.
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “Be honest with me?” It was the only thing he could think of to say.
“Of course.”
That had been too quick. Too easy. But he’d take it for now. “Either we move past this, or we stop speaking for good.” He winced at the bitter taste of the ultimatum, but he wasn’t going to play a game of nothing’s wrong, when something obviously was.
“It’s nothing.” Again her answer came too fast. “I’ve been busy.”
“Right. I’m sorry about what I said. I wasn’t trying to compare—” He cut himself off. No reason to make the same mistake. “I wanted you to know the other night was incredible, and I kind of screwed it up.”
“Kind of?”
“You know I enjoy your company, right?”
“I... Yes? I assume, since you haven’t ever told me to fuck off.”
Some of his tension evaporated. The joke, though it bordered on self-effacing, meant she was listening.
“Speaking of fucking, we’re not going to let this hang over us, are we?” he asked.
She ducked her head and fiddled with her phone, but instead of checking it, she spun it on the table with her finger.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. I know you can. You didn’t have a problem saying what you wanted the other night,” he said.
Her face went as red as the vinyl benches they sat on. “That was different.”
“Order up.” Gwen slid their plates onto the table. She glanced between the two of them, and then clucked. “And, I’ll leave you two alone.”
Archer might have thanked her, but she was already gone. He gave his attention back to Tori. “It’s not different. If you didn’t enjoy the sex, then it is what it is.”
Her head shot up. “No, that’s definitely not an issue. It was... wow.”
“So do you accept my apology?”
“I don’t know how to act around you now.”
He pushed his food aside and leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearms. “Avoiding me probably isn’t the way to go. Act however you’re comfortable, but I was hoping nothing else would change.”
Maybe a couple of things would change. For instance, he’d spend most of his free time, and some of his not-so-free time, fantasizing about the husky voice she used when turned on. About how she let loose. How she felt, wrapped around him. Saying so probably wouldn’t help the situation.
“So we act like nothing happened?” she asked.
“Definitely not. It happened, and I’m not forgetting it anytime soon. But nothing else has changed.”
“Once again, you make it sound so easy.”
He nudged her shoe with his. “And you’re making me think I’m wrong. Tell me we’re good, but only if you mean it.”
“We’re good. I mean it.”
A tension he hadn’t realized was there drained from his neck. “When can we do it again?”
“You’re horrible. I’ll check my calendar.”
That was natural. The kind of joking he could handle. “I’m glad you broke away from work for a little bit today. I didn’t think you ever left your cave between five and five on a weekday.”
“I had to get out for some fresh air. But I was actually serious when I said I didn’t have long.” As if to emphasize her point, she checked her phone again.
This needed to stop. He grabbed it and tucked it into his pocket. “They have to let you eat.” He pushed her food toward her. “Keep me company, in the process.”
She opened her mouth but shook her head without saying anything. She took a bite of her sandwich, chewed, and washed it down with tea, before responding. “I probably shouldn’t ask this, since it tends to be a mood killer, so tell me if it’s an off-limits topic.”
“Nothing’s off limits with me.” He hid a cringe the moment the words were past his lips. She wanted to ask something about Riley. Maybe one thing was. Too late to take it back, and he’d pushed her. He couldn’t justify holding anything back at the moment.
“Why did she turn you down? When you proposed?”
The question tugged at an avalanche of unpleasant memories he tried to repress on a regular basis. He wanted to spit out the easy answer. Maybe a defensive, Like I know, or, Because of reasons. Instead, he found himself spilling the truth. “She and I didn’t want the same things for our futures.” And apparently, she’d always been in love with someone else.
“Like what?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I want kids. I want a wife to help me raise them, and a woman who wants to be taken care of—who takes care of me in return.”
“I think that sounds sweet.”
“But it obviously isn’t for her.”
“She figured out what was. I envy that.” The longing in her voice dug deeper than Archer expected.
An awkward silence descended over them. This wasn’t what he had in mind, when he said he wanted things back to normal.
“I should get back. Phone, please.” Tori held out her hand.
Back to exhaustion. Back to the people who demanded too much of her. Back to burying herself in stress. He held the phone up between his thumb and forefinger, dangling it over her palm. “Take the afternoon off.”
“Uh, no?”
He dropped the phone in her waiting hand. “Why not?”
“Because if I walk away and things break, I have to clean them up when I get back. And answer the e-mails that go along with them. And do damage control. And figure out who gets yelled at. I don’t like yelling at people.”
“If you’re there, you’ll do all of that anyway. You’ll answer the same question fifty times and get the same one hundred e-mails. How much will change if you get their messages now or in eighteen hours? Send them a note. Tell them you have an emergency and you’ll be out the rest of the afternoon.”
“I can’t.” But she stayed in her seat.
“If you’re looking for me to talk you into it, let’s assume I already have. You pretend you argued valiantly, and let’s declare me the winner of this debate.”
Despite her heavy sigh, she didn’t look upset. “All right. Just this once.” She tapped something out on her phone and looked at him again. “Done. E-mail says I had an emergency and I’ll be back later.”
He couldn’t hide his grin. He grabbed the device, turned it off, and dropped it into his pocket. “Perfect.”
“But”—she reached for him and then dropped her hand—“I need that.”
“I’ll give it back later. You’re taking the afternoon off; you don’t need it until tomorrow morning.” He stood and grasped her fingers between his.
“What if they try to get a hold of me?”
“Blame me. Tell them I wouldn’t let you talk to them.”
“That might not go over well.”
He tugged her to her feet and her soft scent filled his nostrils. He closed his eyes and dipped his head to whisper, “They’ll live without you until tomorrow morning.”