Page 22 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)

Archer was straddling his Harley, about to start the engine, when his cell phone buzzed, vibrating in his back pocket. He pulled it free and glanced at the screen.

“Hey,” he said, forcing more cheer into his tone than he felt. A call right before a date was never a good thing. Especially when it was a call from your date.

“I was thinkin’…” Spencer said.

“Were you now? I was, too. About how much I’m lookin’ forward to dinner with you tonight.”

There was silence for a moment, followed by, “Me, too.”

“Yeah? So you’re not callin’ to cancel.”

“Actually, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind,” Archer told him, hoping he would continue to veer in the direction of keeping the date.

He waited for Spencer to say something.

He didn’t.

“We don’t have to meet at the diner. If you’re not comfortable with it. We could head into Pflugerville or Round Rock. Find a restaurant there.”

“How about my place?”

That was a surprise. One Archer was usually quick to accept, but he wasn’t sure that was a good idea where Spencer was concerned.

“I’ll cook,” Spencer added. “I’m not that bad in a kitchen.”

Archer laughed at the man’s tone. His not that bad, sounded like it was said with a scrunch of the nose.

“Why don’t I grab somethin’ to go from the diner,” Archer suggested, because deep down, he knew he would be having dinner with Spencer, no matter the place. He’d been looking forward to this ever since Spencer agreed. No way was he going to miss the opportunity.

“Okay.”

“Text me what you want, and I’ll swing by there real quick. Then text me your address. You live in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ you, Spencer.”

There was a slight pause, followed by, “Me, too.”

Archer ended the call, tucked his phone in his pocket, and started the engine.

He pulled on the half-shell helmet he wore when he was going short distances and buckled the chin strap.

Had it not been for his grandmother’s insistence that he always wear a helmet, Archer would’ve gone without one for this short of a distance simply to feel the wind in his hair.

However, a deal was a deal. Even though his grandmother would likely never find out, it would weigh on his conscience.

He released the jiffy stand and started the engine, relishing the throaty rumble as he did every time he started the bike.

Less than two minutes later, with traffic—which equated to passing three different cars—Archer was parking the bike in the diner’s lot.

He pulled off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars before heading into the restaurant.

Armed with the text from Spencer, he placed a to-go order and waited patiently for them to prepare the food.

As he stood there, he could feel eyes on him. Some were curious who he was because they hadn’t seen him yet. Others were likely wondering why he was still there.

The bells over the door jingled, and he stepped back to keep from blocking the path.

“Evenin’, Sheriff,” Archer greeted when Jeff Endsley walked in, an older, bearded man beside him.

“Archer,” Jeff said, shaking his hand before glancing at the man beside him. “Have you met my husband?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure,” Archer responded.

“Mack, meet Archer Halligan. Archer, this is Mack Schwartz.”

Archer shook Mack’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. You’re new in town?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered easily. “Came to check somethin’ out for a story. My buddy fell in love, so it looks like we’re here to stay.”

Mack’s bushy eyebrows lowered as he peered over at Jeff. “That make any damn sense to you?”

Jeff laughed. “We’re glad you’re stayin’. I heard Simon and Violet are buyin’ the Raikkonnen house.”

“You heard correctly. They close on it on Halloween.”

“Glad to hear it.”

The hostess appeared, greeting both men by name.

“Good to see you again,” the sheriff said.

“Nice to meet you,” Mack said.

Archer stepped back, giving them room to pass. “Likewise. Enjoy your dinner.”

Several minutes later, his food was brought out, packaged in a brown sack. Armed with dinner, Archer carried the food to his motorcycle, secured it, pulled on his helmet, then straddled the seat. He clicked to pull up Spencer’s address on the map and put the phone in the mount on the handlebars.

It was about that time that he felt a trickle of first-date jitters.

He intended to enjoy that feeling.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling down a long, narrow dirt driveway lined with large trees on both sides. It wasn’t until he reached concrete that a house came into view. A sprawling ranch-style with a metal roof and a wraparound porch secured by wrought iron fencing around the perimeter.

Archer followed the driveway around to the side-facing garage and stopped. He took it all in as he secured his helmet and pocketed his phone. He noticed the landscaping, which consisted of a variety of rocks and stones and a plethora of heat-resistant plants—cacti, sage trees, and yucca.

If he was being honest, it wasn’t what he was expecting.

Then again, he hadn’t been sure what to expect.

With food in hand, Archer headed for the gate that opened to the front of the house. His boots thudded on the wooden porch as he walked down the length of the house, passing clusters of windows on his way to the front door.

He was about to knock when the door opened and Spencer appeared.

Damn, he looked good.

Not to mention nervous.

“Hey.”

“Hey back.” Archer smiled. He couldn’t help himself. Seeing Spencer did that. It made him feel weird things churning inside, and it just made him fucking happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even been on a date, much less the last time a man had lit him up without doing a thing.

“Let me help with that,” Spencer offered, reaching for the food.

While he didn’t need help, Archer passed it over and then strolled inside as Spencer headed in the direction of the kitchen.

He closed the door behind him, taking in the open space. He could see clean through to the swimming pool and outdoor kitchen in the backyard.

“This is beautiful,” he told Spencer, and he meant it.

The walls were painted off-white, the floor was dark-stained concrete with several rugs tossed about.

The vaulted ceilings were white with dark wood beams. There was a stone fireplace on the right.

It stretched to the ceiling, accentuating the height.

A set of glass doors beside it led to another part of the house.

On the left was the kitchen, lined with white cabinets and stainless steel appliances.

It was separated from the living space by a large white-quartz-topped island complete with several stools.

Three pendant lights hung above it. The ceiling was lower in the kitchen, allowing for a handful of recessed lights to brighten the space.

At the back of the kitchen was a breakfast nook. The table had been set, and a bottle of wine was chilling in an ice bucket.

“You need help with that?” Archer asked when he noticed Spencer was staring at him.

Spencer shook his head.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked, moving toward him.

Again, Spencer shook his head.

Archer closed the gap between them, walking around the island and stopping when he was mere inches away.

“Spencer?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you nervous?”

Spencer nodded his head as he said, “No.”

Archer grinned. “Me neither.”

Those pretty brown eyes glittered.

To his surprise, Spencer moved closer, eliminating every inch between them. They were chest to chest when Spencer tilted his head, their breaths mingling.

“I’ve spent the entire day thinkin’ about that kiss,” Spencer whispered.

“Yeah?”

“It’s all I can do.” Spencer’s gaze shifted to Archer’s mouth. “I think you broke me.”

Archer chuckled. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Spencer said, his voice low.

Archer studied his face, admiring the gold in his eyes.

“But not for food.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What’re you hungry for?”

Spencer swallowed hard. “Somethin’ I’ve never had before.”

As soon as those words registered, Archer’s smile faded, and his chest clenched painfully tight.

Never?

As in never ever ?

“Are you sayin’…?”

“That I’ve never had sex?”

It was Archer’s turn to be speechless, but he managed a nod.

“I haven’t.” Spencer pulled back enough to meet his gaze. “Not willingly. And not with a man.”

Archer wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“I know. You probably think I’m lyin’. I’m thirty-one years old and I’ve never had sex with anyone I wanted to have sex with.”

“I don’t think you’re lying, Spencer.”

“It’s weird. I get it.” Spencer took a step back. “It’s the very reason I’m practically a virgin. Because even the mention of it freaks people out.”

“I’m not freaked.” He took a step closer, but Spencer merely moved back again.

“I can see it on your face. You’ve never had sex with a virgin, and you’re worried you’ll break me.”

“Actually…” Archer grabbed Spencer’s arm before he could back up again. He pulled him close. “I’m tryin’ to figure out how to stop my body’s reaction to this conversation.”

Spencer looked down, then back up quickly. “Seriously?”

“Oh, yeah. Hard as steel.”

Spencer swallowed hard.

Had he been with any other man, Archer might’ve acted on the chemistry between them. However, he wasn’t sure he was capable of taking what he wanted, knowing he would be Spencer’s first in all the ways that mattered.

“Did I just scare you off?” There was a hint of frustration and embarrassment in Spencer’s tone as he started to move back.

Archer stopped him with a hand on his back, holding him there, chest to chest, thigh to thigh.

“You didn’t scare me,” he told Spencer. He wasn’t lying. He had some concerns, sure, but he wasn’t scared.

“Then what is it?”

“Well, for starters, I’d like to get to know you a little before I take your virginity.”

Spencer gasped.

“Not what you expected me to say?” Archer grinned when Spencer remained silent. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s first but I’m damn sure not opposed to the idea.”

“No?”

“Not at all.”

“So what’re you waitin’ for?”

“I enjoy sex. A lot. My desires run the gamut from sweet to rough and dirty and everywhere in between. I’m lookin’ forward to exploring the spectrum with you. In time.”

As soon as the last two words were out, Spencer attempted to back away again. Archer banded his arms tighter.

When Spencer stopped pulling away, Archer cupped his face with both hands. “Are you in a rush for a reason?”

Spencer held his stare. “Aside from the fact I’ve never been quite this turned on before?”

That made him smile. “Yeah. Aside from that.”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Why’s that good?”

“Because I’m gonna slow you down.”

Spencer frowned.

Archer firmed his grip on Spencer’s face, not allowing him to back up. “Baby, I’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment I saw you.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, the amber gold darkening with arousal.

“And God willing, that’ll happen. But not until the time’s right.”

“What’s wrong with right now?”

“I want to know you before I lose myself in you, Spencer.” He skimmed Spencer’s eyes for a reaction. “Because I get the feelin’ I’m gonna get lost fast.”

Spencer’s sigh settled the all-too-familiar churning in his gut. The one that urged him to jump in with both feet. That was his MO, the very thing that ruined every potential relationship he’d ever had.

Yeah, Archer wanted to feel this man. Inside, outside. Every delectable inch.

But he wanted more than that.

Until he could give Spencer a reason to want the same, Archer intended to refrain. Even if it killed him.