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How does a gentle peck on the cheek somehow feel more intimate than sucking his dick?
But if Archer notices, he doesn’t comment. He just flips another pancake.
Once, twice, three times in the air before he catches it again.
“Show-off.” I laugh, but Rina flashes in my mind, and my smile dies.
We haven’t known each other long. I still haven’t asked him much about his ex-wife. Every time I’ve touched it with the longest pole, he’s dodged the subject.
I get it.
She was a mistake.
She hasn’t been around a lot.
She isn’t important to him anymore but he lets her see Colt because that’s what divorced parents do.
It’s kinda endearing.
Really, everything about this man is, from knowing he used to be an army medic to the way he makes pizza and pancakes to die for like it’s a daily occurrence.
But the fact that Rina washere, and my first instinct was to claim Archer right in front of her, to make it clear he’smine, feels worrying. Especially considering I don’t know anything about their relationship or why it didn’t work.
I don’t even know why they fell in love in the first place.
At a glance, they couldn’t be more different. Maybe that’s part of it.
The whole opposites attract thing isn’t always as glamorous in real life as it is in romance novels.
…but aren’t we basically the same? Opposites?
He’s a certified grump, older and wiser than I’ll ever be, and a no-nonsense money-driven suit by day.
I’m just—Winnie.
And Just Winnie doesn’t seem destined to be more than a fleeting love interest in the long, winding line of women falling at his feet. I’m sure they exist.
But as he piles pancakes on a plate and drizzles maple syrup over them, I wonder.
I need to keep my craziest thoughts to myself.
For now, brunch is enough.
It has to be when the rest of this situationship is too precious, far too fragile to be mowed down by hard truths.
We’re not in a relationship—notexplicitly—but if we were, it couldn’t be going more smoothly.
I’ve semi moved in, although we’ve both stressed it’s a temporary thing. A quick fix to keep unwanted company at bay.
What we’re not saying is how good it feels.
Spending time with Archer feels natural. Too easy.
It’s the same for his son. Colt might be one of the easiest kids ever to get along with.
And the sex—oh my flipping God.
We take advantage of every second Colt leaves to defile new surfaces of his spectacular house.