Page 16 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)
She just acted like she was … familiar.
She is.
Y’all have a thing before?
No. The bitch raped me.
Spencer tucked his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”
“And because of that, you think I’m obligated ?”
“I think you feel obligated,” Spencer corrected. “It’s cool, though. I don’t need your pity.”
Archer frowned, his eyebrows lowering. “Pity?”
“Yeah.”
“You said it happened ten years ago.”
“It did.”
Archer peered around briefly, then met Spencer’s gaze. “I don’t think what I’m feelin’ is pity.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m impressed, for starters.” Archer pushed away from the door, taking one step forward. “You’ve built somethin’ for yourself, which tells me you’re solid and smart. You’ve got a good reputation in town when it comes to buying houses, so that tells me you’re dependable. Probably honest.”
Spencer stood tall, eyes peeled wide. “The entire town thinks I’m a wife-stealin’ himbo. And I made them think that. I don’t think that qualifies me as honest.”
Archer chuckled. “Self-preservation makes us do strange things sometimes.” He closed the gap between them, lowering his voice. “I also think you’re hot as fuck.”
Spencer gasped.
Archer lifted his hand slowly, ensuring he wasn’t reading more into this than he should. He cupped Spencer’s jaw, placing his thumb just beneath his chin, tipping his head up. He skimmed the man’s face, looking for a clue that he should retreat.
When he found none, he said, “Would I do this if I pitied you?”
He held Spencer’s gaze as he lowered his head until their lips touched.
When Spencer didn’t pull away, Archer tilted his head to the side and covered Spencer’s mouth, licking his way past those smooth, warm lips.
Spencer’s tongue met his, gentle at first, then more demanding.
Archer’s body hardened when Spencer’s arms circled him, his hands fisting into his shirt, holding on as the kiss went nuclear.
Archer had wanted to do that since the night Spencer ended up in his room at the B&B. But that night, Archer was on his best behavior because Spencer was too drunk to make any logical choices about what he wanted.
It took effort, but Archer pulled back first, swiping his thumb over Spencer’s lips before leaning back so he could meet his gaze.
“Jesus Christ,” Spencer muttered, eyes glazed.
Archer grinned, not moving away. He wasn’t sure he could. He had a steel bat in his pants and the damn thing was throbbing.
“Now that that’s outta the way, what do you say we start over?”
Spencer chuckled. “Start over? As in, repeat that … kiss?”
“If you’d like, sure. I’m game.” Archer chuckled. “But I was thinkin’ maybe we could grab dinner, get to know each other a little.”
Spencer nodded. “Tonight?”
“Tonight works.”
“Okay.”
“The diner good for you?”
Another nod from Spencer.
“All right then. Six o’clock?”
“I can do six.”
“Spencer?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you want me to kiss you again? Because if you don’t, you’re gonna need to let go of my shirt.”
Spencer tipped his head down, his hands falling to his sides.
He took a step back as though surprised he’d been holding on, but then took a step forward and grabbed Archer, surprising him.
Their lips crashed together, and this time, Archer didn’t hold back.
He turned, pinning Spencer against the wall.
He paused, pulling back enough to look at Spencer.
“I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. Cool?”
Spencer smiled. “I’m not fragile.”
“Good to know.” Archer kissed him again, pressing in close, enjoying the way Spencer leaned into him. He wasn’t a small man, but Archer definitely had some inches and pounds on him.
By the time he had the presence of mind to slow down, Archer was panting, his heart racing. He released Spencer as he took a step back, missing the warmth of his body instantly.
“I’m lookin’ forward to dinner,” Archer told him, walking backward toward the door.
“Me, too.”
Archer smiled, memorizing that handsome face for a little longer before he turned and walked out of the small office.
He was still smiling when he strolled into the apartment to find Simon standing near the windows overlooking Walker Park.
As soon as he heard him, Simon turned. “Where’d you go?”
“I had a chat with Spencer.”
Simon frowned. “I thought Violet said he was with clients.”
“Yeah, well. He wasn’t.”
“Okay, then.”
“So, what do you want me to get done here?” Archer asked, glancing around.
Simon gestured toward the bedroom, which was being used as a writing and research space. “I’d like to walk them through the details Holt acquired.”
“Man, you should see the equipment they’ve got in that barn,” Archer told him as they headed for the bedroom. “It’s state of the art. And from what I can tell, mostly digital.”
“Holt’s old school.”
Yes, it would appear he was. There were pictures and newspaper articles wallpapering the room. All of them printed somewhere, using paper, killing trees. Archer didn’t mention that because Simon already knew how he felt about that shit.
“If they agree to take on this case, I think we should relocate this stuff,” he suggested. “Or digitize it.”
“I’m good with that.”
“Maybe then it’ll make some sorta sense.
” Archer’s gaze snapped from one photo to the next, one article after another.
There was so much information lining these walls, yet it didn’t appear to be in any semblance of order.
If he hadn’t heard Holt talk about it, he wouldn’t have even known it all revolved around one woman.
“It makes sense,” Simon countered.
“If you know what you’re lookin’ for, yeah. But it doesn’t tell a story.”
Simon sighed. “That’s the problem.”
That was the first time Simon admitted that he wasn’t quite sure what angle his friend was aiming for with this information.
Simon had arrived in Coyote Ridge almost a month ago, yet they were no closer to determining how to approach it.
Hell, Simon hadn’t even laid out an action plan for him.
And his friend was well aware that Archer planned his life around those things.
So, was it the hearts and unicorns swimming in Simon’s brain that made the story blurry, or was there really nothing there worth looking into?
Whatever it was, Archer hoped they could figure it out soon.