Page 3 of Gideon’s Gratitude (Love in Mission City #5)

Ah, well. Crap. “Sorry, no alcohol in the place. I have water, milk, or apple juice.”

An odd expression. “Water is perfect. Thank you.”

Thank you. That’s not a phrase he says very often . I couldn’t put into words how I knew…but I just did. I made my way back to the kitchen. I poured two glasses of water from the jug in the fridge, shut everything off, and headed back yet again to the dining table.

Archer eyed his soup .

Cutlery.

How is this so complicated?

I moved to the china cabinet where my grandmother kept her silver cutlery. And…tarnished. Polishing had been on the long list of things I planned to do but never got around to.

I pivoted yet again and headed back to the kitchen. At least I’d run the dishwasher earlier, so the cutlery drawer was full of clean implements.

Am I even capable of hosting? Of being a normal human being?

I had my doubts.

After handing a spoon to my guest, I slipped into my chair, mindful of my back. Long experience had me suppressing the wince. The aroma of cream of mushroom soup mingled with the toasted bread. My saliva glands kicked into overdrive as I finally admitted how hungry I was.

Why is he not eating? Is there something wrong with the soup? “I can make something else.” Soup was something I was well-stocked in. Damn, I should’ve offered a choice.

“This is fine.” He took a tentative sip. “It’s, well, good.”

Not effusive praise, but as the man took another sip, I decided that was about as good as it was going to get.

Lucky had taken up position to my left, waiting patiently for anything to be dropped.

I tried not to spoil the dog, but if the occasional food item landed on the floor, I didn’t stress about it.

Lucky would’ve loved to be around the kids when they were younger—they often made messes that included food on the floor.

I’d encouraged their playful natures, even though Leo hadn’t always been on board for the antics.

Had those rascal tendencies been erased now I was gone?

“What flavor of soup is this?” Archer was eyeing the bowl, but I read curiosity, not disdain .

“Cream of mushroom.” I almost added the soup was my favorite, but that was probably self-evident since I’d made it.

“Cream of mushroom.” My guest repeated the words slowly. “I’m not certain I’ve ever tasted this before.”

“I hope you enjoy it. If you’re still here for breakfast, I can make oatmeal, pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon, French toast or—”

“Toast will be sufficient.”

“Can I tempt you with eggs?” I picked up my bread. “I promise I won’t burn them.”

Our gazes met. What is he thinking? What’s going on in the mind behind that beautiful face? He wore a mask of implacability. And carried an air of authority. Reminded me of Leo. And not in a good way.

“We’ll see how I feel. I might be gone by the time you rise.”

“I’m an early riser.” I didn’t used to be, but my physiotherapist, Marcus, discouraged me from spending too much time in bed.

And Lucky made routine demands in the morning.

Helped to have a dog when finding a reason to move forward proved virtually impossible.

“I’ll make sure you at least have toast before you go.

I can drive during the daylight, so I can run you down to Mission City.

Unless you want to supervise the removal of your vehicle. ”

Archer waved his hand. “The SUV is a write-off. I’ll contact my insurance in the morning as well. They’ll arrange for another vehicle.” He took a tentative bite of the bread, appeared vaguely impressed, and continued to eat it.

Don’t stare.

Just because I had an attractive man in my house didn’t give me permission to ogle.

Just because it’d been a long time since I’d seen any man—except the clerk at the gas station, who was way too young anyway—didn’t give me the right to fantasize.

I didn’t count my physiotherapist as a potential mate in the sense he was a professional and I’d always see him as just that.

Gorgeous and also the person who inflicted pain.

Supposedly for my benefit, but I did question that.

“Well, thank you for the satisfying meal.” Archer gestured to the empty dishes.

“I’ll take care of them.” I rose. “And I’ll go see how your clothes are doing. If they’re only damp, I’ll pull them out of the machine and hang them up. That might lessen the damage.”

He arched his eyebrow. “I’ll only need them so I can leave tomorrow. Then they’ll be relegated to the rubbish heap.” He rose. “May I use your facilities?”

“The bathroom? Uh, of course. It’s up the stairs and straight at the end of the hall. There’s a spare toothbrush still in the package under the sink.” I shifted uncomfortably. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll change the sheets and you can rest or whatever. Oh, your phone.” I held out my hand.

Archer appeared surprised but moved to the living room where he retrieved it.

When he handed it to over, though, my heart sank. This is a premium phone. Super fancy and super expensive. Leo had the same one, only one or two models older. They required a special cable, and of course, I didn’t have one. “I’m sorry.” I returned the phone. “I don’t have that cable.”

My guest’s brow furrowed. “I thought all phones used the same cables.”

“For that company, sure. But most of the other companies use a universal. Mine won’t work with that.” I retrieved my phone from the counter, unplugging it.

Everything stayed plugged in because power might go out .

Like tonight. I should unplug everything that wasn’t necessary, though, so I’d put less pressure on the generator.

I’d gassed it up last week, but I didn’t like using any more fossil fuel than necessary.

A solar machine was far beyond my price range.

“I’ll just grab your clothes. Maybe you want to brush your teeth? ”

He shifted. “Yes, using the facilities would be appreciated, thank you.” He headed up the stairs.

I snagged the dishes. I put everything in the dishwasher and shoved the pot with the little bit of leftover soup in the fridge.

I’ll eat it tomorrow . I headed to the laundry room.

As I suspected, the suit was still damp, even after a round in the old machine.

I couldn’t afford to use more electricity tonight and tax the generator.

I removed the pants and folded them to hang them on a plastic hanger.

Then I added the suit jacket to a second hanger.

Hopefully by morning they’d be dry. I fingered the fabric. Might even be salvageable.

I hotfooted it upstairs as the sound of the water pump activating reached me. I hadn’t specifically offered the shower, but Archer was free to use it.

Such a formal name.

I grabbed the fresh sheets from the linen cupboard.

And the man’s tone was formal as well. Big words.

Fewer contractions. Way above my position in life, that was for sure.

And given the mansion Archer was building, clearly he had the scratch to go with the expensive suit and fancy SUV.

I issued up a small prayer for the vehicle.

It hadn’t deserved such a horrible ending.

Stripping the bed took little time, although my back protested every movement.

Usually I allotted myself a half hour for the chore, but tonight I was under a time crunch.

The shower was running, and that gave me a bit of extra time.

Stretching to fit the under sheet was a pain in the ass, but I managed.

Laying the top sheet wasn’t so bad, but tucking it in ate up precious time.

I didn’t bother when it was just me. I used to take pride in keeping a meticulous house.

These days, good enough was the motto. Oh, the place was clean, but not pristine.

A place I could take pride in, but not tended to with the obsession I’d demonstrated with Leo and the kids.

Crap. Again, with the kids.

I glanced at the picture frame on the nightstand. Flipped it facedown.

“Thank you for the use of your shower.”

Holy crap. I spun to find Archer at the entrance to the room. I shoved the pillow into the pillowcase. “Uh, no problem. And everything here is fresh for you.” I gestured around the small space.

My guest’s left brow arched again.

Impressive how he managed. Anytime I tried, my face just looked pained.

“This appears to be the primary bedroom.”

“It is.”

“Well, I certainly cannot take the primary suite. Perhaps you have a spare room?”

“Not with adult-sized beds.”

I uttered the words under my breath, but apparently he caught the words as that lovely eyebrow shot up yet again.

“I was planning to sleep on the couch. It’s quite comfortable.” Would wreak havoc on my back, but it’d be a small price to pay. I had company. If only for the night. I’d take whatever I could get—I was just that lonely. And desperate for company .

“Well, I certainly cannot displace you. If you could point me in the direction of said couch—”

“You’re too big.”

“I beg your pardon?” He sputtered .

Heat crept into my cheeks. “I mean you’re too tall.” I stooped over to pick up the dirty sheets. “Please take this room and leave it for now. We can talk in the morning.” After bending over, I had a headache to match the backache.

Lovely.

I stepped to Archer. “Please let me pass.”

Our gazes held. The overhead lamp in my bedroom emitted little light, but I could make out his beautiful eyes. Eyes narrowed in distaste.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded. “As you wish.” He stepped aside.

I scurried past. I tossed the linens into the basket for dirty laundry and was about to hide in the bathroom. Shit . “I just need to grab my pajamas.”

He again stood to the side.

My cheeks remained hot as I pulled out the flannel Superman set.

The kids had picked it out for me for Christmas two years ago, and I wore it to stay close to them.

I probably had a staid pair of plaid here somewhere, but time was passing, and with each additional second, my nerves ratcheted up further.

Archer said nothing as I slid past him. Probably not worth commenting on. I went into the bathroom, shut the door, and let out the breath I’d been pretty much holding since my guest startled me.

Phew.

I changed into my pajamas and did everything else necessary for my evening routine. The battery-operated clock read barely eight, but with the power out, I didn’t want to use any more electronics, such as my television and, frankly, exhaustion had set in.

I flipped off the lights and opened the bathroom door.

The door to the primary bedroom was closed and, after a pause, I moved on.

I crept down the stairs to the family room.

Sure, I might’ve been able to sleep on one of the kids’ beds, but I didn’t have the emotional strength to do that tonight.

Those rooms remained closed off. I couldn’t face the acute loss that overwhelmed me each time I stepped in.

The optimism that’d carried me through the decorating and preparation had long turned to despair as reality set in.

You’re probably never going to see them again.

Never was a strong word, but given Leo’s fierce protection of our children, and my lack of a legal leg to stand on, it truly looked like my children were beyond my reach.

When I entered the room, Lucky lifted his head.

“Right.” I rubbed my hands. “Quick pee, my friend, and then we’re hunkering down for the night.” Often I read before bed, but tonight I’d forgo even that. Something told me that I’d be out quickly once I actually laid my head down.

Lucky chuffed as he rose. He strolled over to the front door.

I shook my head and pointed to the back of the house.

My dog sighed and headed in that direction. At the laundry room, I snagged the extendable leash. He glared.

“I didn’t put a leash on you earlier, and I chased you through half the forest and onto the neighbor’s property.” The very cute neighbor, but that was beside the point. I held up the leash.

The glare morphed into an apathetic shrug. He sat and raised his chin so I could snap on the leash.

Within moments, I opened the door.

Bad move.

The wind whipped against me and blew through my pajamas.

Should’ve grabbed a coat.

That would’ve been too much effort .

Lucky looked displeased, but I pointed to the corner of the deck. He sniffed indignantly before heading out into the winds. Good thing the lab was sturdy, because the winds howled.

Huh. I was surprised none of this had registered after the power went out, but my focus had definitely been on a certain gentleman.

After he pushed back into the house, Lucky shook himself vigorously.

I snagged a towel and the dog again sat, waiting for the rubdown. A minute or so later, the pooch was less wet, so I let him saunter back into the family room.

The oomph resounded through the house as he settled in front of the fire.

I again fingered the fabric of the suit. Success. The suit was drying nicely. Good thing, because Archer appeared to have no outerwear.

Why had the man come up here without a proper coat?

The temperature hadn’t been much above freezing all day.

Certainly, too cold for just a suit jacket.

And why had he stayed once the rains had started?

Why not head back down the mountain before the worst of the storm hit?

Maybe he didn’t understand how storms worked.

Nah, he seems pretty smart.

Although that was an assumption I was making based mostly on the expensive suit. Stupid people could wear expensive suits.

Sharks wore suits.

Don’t use the word stupid.

I’d taught my kids better, and so I should do the same.

I shut off the lights in the laundry room and did a circuit around the house, unplugging anything that didn’t need to be plugged in.

I grabbed a sleeping bag and a spare duvet from the linen closet.

Damn, Archer would need to leave his door open so some of the heat could sneak in, or the room would be frozen come morning .

I listened quietly at the door but heard only heavy steady breathing.

Without invading my guest’s privacy, I opened the door a few inches.

Finally, I tiptoed downstairs, mindful of the creaky floorboard on the third step.

Soon enough, I plopped onto the battered old couch—a relic from my grandparents’ time.

I wrapped myself into the covers, gave Lucky one final look, and turned off the light.

I’d worried that sleep would be slow in coming, but it proved me wrong, and I drifted off quickly.