Page 8 of Gideon’s Gratitude (Love in Mission City #5)

Chapter Four

Archer

M ore than two hours passed before I completed my inspection, made changes to some of the ordered finishings, and met everyone on the site. I’d sorely neglected coming out here, but I’d make up for it in the next day or so.

And, finally, my phone was charged.

Twenty-three missed calls and eighteen missed texts.

Most were from either my personal assistant or my family.

As I dismissed each one, unease set in. I should respond, but the thought wearied me.

I belonged to a group chat with my sisters and brothers—Cherish’s idea, not mine.

One message would reach all of them. Wouldn’t silence the chatter, but it’d kill seven birds with one stone.

Ouch, bad expression.

I shot off a response to Jean-Michel with a request the man hold down the fort.

I made no promises of when I’d return. A few cases simmered, but nothing was urgent.

In fact, I should probably make referrals for most of my clients.

I had no idea if the situation that had driven me out here would be easily resolved or if more time was needed.

People smarter than me needed to figure that out.

And speaking of smarter. A text from my doctor. Unwelcome, but not unexpected. My finger hovered and the urge to swipe to dismiss overwhelmed me. So easy. One flick of the finger.

Nope. I opened the text, scanned it, cursed, and responded tersely. No way was I opening this can of worms. It could wait. Everything could wait. Everyone could wait. I had problems to sort out, and getting everyone’s input would create noise and distraction. Distraction I could ill-afford.

I stomped. I wasn’t dressed for this weather.

Riley had offered to send someone into town to buy what I needed, but I turned her down.

Which meant I’d be going to dinner in this suit.

Should’ve taken her up on her offer. Choices, at the moment, overwhelmed me.

So many. I could pull off decisions about the house because, although they affected me, the results were in the far-distant future.

Anything that required attention right now was too much to deal with.

I glanced over at the property line, and a warmth enveloped me.

The invitation had been clear. Leaving the door unlocked was as blatant as it came.

Platonic, of course. But long-repressed feelings were emerging.

Awakening after a very long slumber. I loved women.

Well, my wife at least. We’d had a decent sex life.

With hindsight, I recognized there’d never been fire.

Desire. We’d clicked because we had the same ambition.

She’d gone elsewhere for those needs to be met, and I’d been okay with that.

Now, though, at thirty-nine years old, I mourned what I’d never had.

Well, not never. There’d been a guy in undergrad at university.

We’d both been interested in experimentation, and when graduation came, we’d gone our separate ways.

I rarely allowed myself to think about that time in my life.

When I’d been a different person. I certainly wouldn’t label myself bisexual, because one same-sex relationship didn’t define me, certainly.

Well, then there was Chevy.

I sighed. My aborted attempt at a hookup. With a guy who’d been so much of a asshole that I’d seriously considered deleting the app entirely. He’d come across as caring and considerate. As a great doggie dad.

All manipulation. Turned out he left his dogs—and his kids—home with his wife who likely had no idea the jackass was cheating on her with other men.

Gross.

Just gross.

As I’d booted him out of my hotel room—buck naked—I’d offered to represent his wife for free in any divorce proceedings. Hell, I’d seriously considered finding her and warning her about the man she was married to.

But I hadn’t. Instead I’d had two medical issues that led to me worrying about other things and not, until this moment, circling back.

I should find her and send an anonymous letter.

None of my business and that might endanger her.

Sometimes I hated not being able to step in and fix things. Hell, for all I knew, she might know about his dalliances and have no issues with being married to a douchebag.

So I’d tried to be with a man again. Had thought maybe that might obliterate the memory of my cheating wife.

Hadn’t worked. Hell, I hadn’t even gotten hard. So maybe I wasn’t really bisexual. Or maybe your cock knew how much of a jackass Chevy really was .

Entirely possible.

Plus, I’d gotten into the shower and had jerked off with a large dildo in my ass. So yeah, bisexual was entirely possible.

Now? I was attracted to Gideon. No two ways about it. Not just his clearly broken spirit. No, to him as a man. All angles and fresh mountain scent. When my nose had been against his ear, I’d considered placing a kiss just below his earlobe on his neck.

Had stopped myself because, as one knew, consent was a thing.

This pull toward him was something unexpected.

And maybe last night’s forced proximity had brought on these feelings.

My neighbor was definitely unlike Nolan, with whom I’d shared a bed with in university.

I rarely gave in to the memories of that idyllic time.

Yes, our affair had been illicit. But it’d also been intense. Adolescent love. Passionate.

What I found with Thea had been comfortable. Two people working in tandem to build something. A monument to wealth.

What a load of crap.

All that money hadn’t brought happiness. Hadn’t given me a stable marriage. Hadn’t given me the good health and long life I expected.

And Gideon definitely didn’t resemble Chevy in any possible way—from the physical to the emotional. Polar opposites. Thank God.

I nodded to Riley as she entered the kitchen. “I’m going to head over to Gideon’s place.”

If she was surprised, she hid it well. “Of course. Come back when you’re ready to go into town. We usually quit about four-thirty this time of year. When we lose the light.”

Not far off from the longest night of the year. I didn’t get out enough during the day. Always another meeting to get to. Always another client needing to be tended to. Jean-Michel chastised me and encouraged me to take my lunch outside, but I rarely did. Always chained to my desk.

Something’s going to have to give.

“Thank you, Riley. And thank you for the work you’ve accomplished thus far. Quite impressive.”

A casual shrug. “My crew is the best.”

A crew that almost had gender parity. Women who worked as hard as their male counterparts. “We’ll return at quitting time. Thank you kindly.”

She smiled.

I departed.

As I crossed the property line, a sense of calm enveloped me. I hoped it always would when I came up here. About as far from the rat race as I could get, but still within a short distance of the city.

Underbrush disappeared as I neared Gideon’s home.

My phone vibrated.

Bloody hell.

I checked.

Cherish.

Oh, good Lord.

Again, the temptation to swipe overwhelmed.

Except in one phone call, I could silence the chatter. Or at least escape from the wrath.

I swiped Accept.

“Hello, Cherish.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Nice to hear from you. Been a while. How are Maris and the kids?” I scratched my nose.

“My wife is fine. Clarence and Carmen are fine. Which you’d know if you answered your goddamn phone.” Her words bit .

“My phone battery died.”

“You couldn’t find a charger for three days?”

I tried to calculate back when her first message had arrived. Nope, couldn’t come up with it. I’d been ignoring her for days. Not good. “Well, it’s charged now. Everyone okay?”

Of course they were. The group chat would’ve shared any bad news.

“I can see you’re getting our messages. Just not responding. What the hell, Arch?”

“Sometimes the chats become tedious.” I winced. Probably not the best thing to say to the leader of the pack.

“Too much parenting chat?” Her tone softened. “If you and Thea’d had children—”

“Do not start with me, Cherish. You so do not want to go there today.” For years I’d felt obliged to explain why I chose not to be a father. Now, with Thea gone, those jibes and sly comments had ceased. Well, my other siblings had given up. Cherish? Never. “Look, this is a bad time.”

“Arch, it’s always a bad time. Did you know Mom and Dad’s anniversary is coming up in two weeks? You’re going to be there, right?” Her impatience could not be overstated.

“Naturally. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Except you did last year because one of your clients had a meltdown.”

“An attempted suicide is not a meltdown.”

“You were her lawyer, not her doctor.”

Another argument we continued to have. “I didn’t bill her.” Annoyance bit through my tone.

An exasperated sigh. “I’m just saying that family needs to be a priority. You need to be around people who love you. You need support.”

Something in her tone caught my attention. “What do you know? ”

Medical appointments were supposed to be confidential, but my doctor was also our brother Chuck’s physician. The woman didn’t seem likely to have let anything slip, but one couldn’t be too careful.

“I don’t know anything because you never share anything.” A long pause. “But something’s up. You’re never this quiet. This withdrawn.”

“Maybe I need quiet. Maybe I’m tired of all the chatter. All the drama.”

An indignant gasp. “There is no drama.”

“Oh please, Cherish, pull the other one. You and Cherry got into an argument last week.”

A huff. “Well, she was wrong.”

I rolled my eyes. “About helicopter parenting? Your kids are eight and eleven. Hers are three and one. Naturally she’s protective. You were the same when Rogan and Richelle were that age. You might’ve been out of line.”

Yet another huff. “Well, she was wrong too. Accusing me of neglect.”

Cherry had done no such thing, but explaining that to Cherish would only land me in a heap of hurt.

“I’m cold. I’m about to go inside, and I don’t want to be talking when I do.”