Page 11 of Gideon’s Gratitude (Love in Mission City #5)

I cut a glance from Lucky, to Archer, and back to Lucky.

“That’s debatable. I could crate him, but I’d pay for that later.

Hopefully he won’t get into trouble while we’re gone.

” I followed Archer outside and locked the door behind him.

I’d flipped the front porch lights on, but we still had enough light to lead us through the property line.

All the other vehicles were gone, and Riley leaned against her truck, phone in hand.

She looked up and offered a wide grin. “Hey, guys, perfect timing.” She opened the back door and I moved in that direction.

Archer placed a restraining hand on my arm.

“I’ll sit in the back. I asked you, and it’s a full-size, so I’ll fit. ”

That was debatable, but getting into the front would be easier for me, so I simply nodded and rounded the front. I opened the door and hefted myself inside. As I was securing my seat belt, Riley got in as well. “Where are we headed to?”

“Fifties.” Archer’s response was quick and easy.

She grinned. “Oh, that sounds lovely. I think I’ll grab something to go.”

“You could join us.” Yes, that would work. If she joined us, it’d be less like a date. More like just a group hanging out.

Another affable grin. “Lovely idea, Gideon, but I have my own beast to get home to. I didn’t arrange for a dog sitter today, so my little mutt will be bouncing off the walls by the time I get home.”

Ah well, I tried.

She licked her lips. “I’m thinking of getting a shake. Either Espresso or Cappuccino. And an order of breaded shrimp. And a chicken dinner. Oh, and pie. They make the best pie.”

My stomach rumbled. I hadn’t had lunch, and I doubted Archer had either. We’d both be hungry. Or at least we should be. My stomach was still in knots over this evening.

“What other flavors of milkshakes are there?”

I glimpsed Archer in the back seat looking comfortable.

Riley met his gaze briefly in the rearview mirror.

“Cotton candy, amaretto, banana cream pie, apple pie, blueberry, blackberry, blue raspberry, pineapple, coconut cream pie, and about a dozen more. Probably strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla as well. And I think marshmallow. I think there’s also one that has like three flavors combined. That was too sweet for me.”

All those flavors made my teeth ache, but I’d have one all the same. My one treat. My way to stay connected to my grandparents.

And what would they think of the mess I’m in? Divorced, unemployed, never seeing my kids…not a pretty sight .

I gazed out the window at the passing trees, as well as the occasional houses, as we sped into Mission City proper.

The sun was below the tree lines, and the gloaming had set in. Night would soon be upon us.

The fluorescents would hurt my eyes, but I wasn’t driving. And if it meant more time spent with Archer, the discomfort would be worth it.

Snippets of the conversation drifted over me.

Surrounded me. Comforted me. The discussion appeared centered on food.

With Fifties’ menu being so expansive, this conversation could go on for a while.

Neither of my companions appeared bothered by my silence, so I let nature work her stillness into my soul.

As we hit Cedar Street, the houses became more frequent. Eventually we passed the townhomes that’d been put up in the past ten years.

I’d bought a townhome with Leo when he finished his residency and the prospect of a substantial salary became a reality. We left behind the one-bedroom condo we’d lived in during our entire married life and moved into a three-bedroom home with space for the kids. Kids who followed quickly.

We’d waited patiently for almost fourteen years to start our family, wanting Leo secure in his job first. Parenthood had come easy for us. Siblings whose single mother could no longer care for them.

After a mental collapse, she realized she was harming her kids. Unable to care for them, she turned them over to Child Protective Services. She picked us to raise her children. Heartened by our fourteen-year relationship. Awed by Leo’s profession.

We offered to keep her in the kids’ lives, but she declined.

I hadn’t understood the decision at the time. Wanting what was best for them? Sure. Walking away forever? Couldn’t fathom it .

Now, as I video chatted with the children for half an hour twice a month, I understood.

Every time I did it, a small part of me died.

I was being ripped into pieces. Shredded.

Gutted. How much less painful would it be if I stopped?

Didn’t put them or myself through the charade? Walked out of their lives forever?

I still harbored the dream I could be part of their lives again. A dream, sure, but a small burning flame in my gut.

Riley turned the truck left onto the main drag through town.

“My hotel is one block back that way, right?” Archer indicated behind him, clearly trying to get his bearings.

“That’s right.” She injected enthusiasm into the words. “You’ll be a local in no time.”

She pulled into Fifties’s parking lot.

Archer was the first to get out.

Riley was slower.

Was she doing that to cover for me since I couldn’t leap gracefully? I eased myself out of the seat and my feet touched the ground lightly. No jarring meant less pain.

“Can’t wait to grab a shake.” Riley grinned. Again, more enthusiasm. Even at the end of the day, she was unflaggingly upbeat. Or she was putting on a show for us. For Archer in particular. Hard to say.

Sarabeth, the server, greeted us at the door with a huge smile. “Riley, great to see you. For three?”

Riley shook her head. “Nah, for two. I’m grabbing something to go. Gotta get home to Samson.”

The other woman nodded, her blonde ponytail swinging.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be a patient one.” She pivoted to the Archer and me.

“Grab a booth where you can. We’re pretty busy tonight.

A few people don’t have power yet. Quite a storm last night.

” She returned her attention to Riley. “What can I get you? ”

The two women huddled over a menu, so I turned my attention back to Archer, who was eying the booths in the front with the neon lighting. I grasped the lawyer’s elbow and gestured toward the back.

Archer nodded, and we headed that way.

The noise receded a bit as we grabbed the last booth in the back corner.

Hope this won’t trigger sensory overload.

It’d been a risk to come into town, but one I was willing to take. I removed my coat.

Archer eyed his own suit, shrugged, and opted to keep the jacket on.

The restaurant was warm, but not overly so.

Sarabeth reappeared with menus and handed them over. “What can I get you gents to drink?”

While Archer perused, I offered a smile. “May I have a black licorice milkshake?”

Archer’s head shot up. The look of disgust was unmistakable.

I just smiled. I’d known it’d likely get a rise. I enjoyed poking the bear.

“I’ll have an amaretto milkshake, thank you.”

Sarabeth grinned. “Great. By the time those are ready, you can give me your orders.” She sashayed away in the way only a confident woman could do. She carried a few extra pounds, but those curves made her more beautiful.

Archer wasn’t watching her. His eyes rested unnervingly on me.

What does he see?

I had no idea. Wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I wasn’t attractive. Not in the classical sense. I had a decent face, a dented nose, a high forehead, and thick lips. Leo was beautiful. Archer was stunning. I was comely.

“They have hot dogs.” His dark-gray eyes sparkled .

They appeared almost black in the low light. Earlier today they’d been lighter.

Like you should be noticing such things.

I’m not blind.

No, I wasn’t.

“What are you thinking?” He arched that left eyebrow again.

Since blurting out the truth was unlikely to be taken well, I fingered the menu. “Deciding between a burger and a chicken dinner.”

“Have the steak, if you like. This is on me.”

The steely gaze dared me to argue. Well, my wallet appreciated the gesture. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re prideful. I get that. I am as well. Knocking on your door last night was difficult because I wanted to handle the situation myself. I recognized, though, that I needed help. Assistance only you could render.”

Well, I couldn’t argue with that logic. “I was happy to help.” And I was. Would’ve done it for anyone. Even serial killers.

“And I thought we were getting along until I mentioned I’m a divorce attorney.

” Archer held up his hand to prevent any argument.

“I understand. People have a perception of lawyers—and of divorce lawyers in particular. I’m hoping you’ll provide me with the opportunity to show you I’m not like others in my profession.

Or maybe that I am, but that our reputation is undeserved. ”

“Oh, it’s deserved all right.” I muttered the words under my breath, but suspected I could be heard, even over the din in the restaurant.

“One licorice shake and one amaretto. You gentlemen know what you want to order?”

Archer indicated I should go first.

“I’ll go for the classic burger. No tomato, but with bacon and fried onions.” See? If I was on a date, I wouldn’t have picked onions .

“You want fries or coleslaw?”

“Fries.” A few extra calories wouldn’t hurt.

“And you?”

“The foot-long hot dog with chili and melted cheese. Oh, and French fries as well.”

“You want bacon bits or sour cream?”

The man’s eyes lit. “Both.” As if he’d never been offered such a plain meal before.

Probably hasn’t.

Be nice.

Sarabeth snagged the menus. “Back in a flash.”

“Take your time.” Archer met my gaze. “We’re not in a rush.”

From anyone else, that might’ve been considered a flirtatious thought, but clearly he didn’t mean it that way. The guy’s new SUV wasn’t due for another couple of hours, so we had time. I sipped the shake and let the tartness of the black licorice settle on my tongue.