Page 10

Archie Griffith, one of the biggest fuckboys of Walker, who only found out hours ago that he’s gonna be a father—and has yet to freak out, by the way—wants to show me what kind of man he is by dating me.

A guy who could have questioned my motives, asked for a paternity test, and ignored me for eight months while we awaited results is being the most chivalrous man by not only supporting me, but doubling down on this notion that he wants to—and I quote—"date the shit” out of me.

It’s crazy and absurd. And yet it’s so damn sweet that I’d be a fool to not give this man a try.

My stomach flutters, and yet I try to maintain an almost businesslike approach, keeping my emotions in check.

“All right, if we’re gonna try the dating thing, tell me more about your family. You have brothers? Five? You’re from Texas, right?” I ask, sitting back in my seat.

He nods. “I do. I have five brothers, and I am from Texas. My dad is a cattle rancher. We live on the same ranch where my dad was raised. He took over before I was born, but my grandparents still live on the land. They live in a smaller house about two miles from the main house. Gramps still tries to help out, but my dad won’t let him do too much.

He has ranch hands to help him with most of it. ”

“You and your brothers ever work the ranch too?” I take another drink of my club soda, then put it down. Crossing my arms, I rest on my forearms and lean in.

“Yeah, growing up, we all had chores. Four of my younger brothers still live at home, so they help out a lot when they aren’t playing sports.

My brother Aiden is away, playing hockey right now.

He lives up in New England and plays for a league there.

But he’s entering the draft in the spring after he turns eighteen. ” He mirrors me and also leans in.

“Oh, wow, that’s cool. He doesn’t want to play in college then?” I ask, not familiar with how the hockey draft process works.

Archie shakes his head. “No, he’s in the major junior league, so he does have the choice to play in college, but he’s good enough to get drafted and go straight to the pros. It’s a different process from football—that’s for sure.”

The waiter brings our food out, so we sit in silence for a few minutes and start eating. My stomach isn’t rolling right now, so I’m taking advantage of that and trying to get some of the soup in. I just hope I don’t throw it up later.

Thankfully, he chews with his mouth closed. I couldn’t deal with it otherwise. I think if I had to hear him chew, it might make me gag. Pregnant or not.

“Tell me about you, Emma. Are you from here?” he asks.

I grab a pack of crackers from the bowl they gave me with my soup, scrunch it up, then open it, and scatter it in the bowl.

“Well, let’s see. I’m from this area. I grew up in Midwest City.

I started playing golf when I was twelve, and I really liked it.

I was good enough to get a scholarship here.

I’m close to my parents, and they come to my tournaments that they can drive to.

My dad is in insurance, and my mom is a freelance writer. And that’s about it. Fairly normal.”

I am not ready to talk about my sister with him yet, so I leave her out. Even all these years later, it still hurts to think about what happened, and I know it’s not particularly good that I don’t talk about her, but it’s my way of coping with it.

Well, and becoming a doctor. I hope I can someday help kids who have the same defect my sister did. Although technology has come a long way in the last thirteen years, there’s still a lot of research to be done.

My sister’s death rocked my family for a long time.

I felt like I tried my hardest to fill that void.

I’ve been a good student, and I’ve stayed focused, never getting in trouble for anything.

Doesn’t mean we don’t talk about her at all, just not a lot.

Which makes me sad. She was such a bright light in our family in the short time she was with us.

“How do you think your parents will feel about your pregnancy? Will they freak out?” he asks.

I nod. “Pretty much. I think they’ll be shocked. I’ve been on the doctor path for so long, and they know how important it is for me, so they’ll worry for sure.”

“What kind of doctor do you want to be?” He takes another bite of his burger, nearly done with his meal, while I’ve only taken a few of mine.

“I’ll get my degree in chemistry and biology, and then I’ll need to apply to med schools, where my specialty will be pediatric cardiology.” I take a sip of the broth in my soup, still testing my stomach strength.

“Wow, that’s amazing. You must be smart then, huh?” He smirks.

“I mean, yeah.” I laugh. “My grades are good, and my mock exam scores for the MCAT have been high, so I should be able to get into my pick of med schools.”

Archie wipes his hands on his napkin. “Well, I’m guessing the baby will change a lot of that, right?”

I look down and swallow. “For sure. I think we just need to see what the doctor says. I feel like there is a lot we still need to know and talk about. I mean, you’re going into the draft this year, right?”

“Emma”—he smiles widely—“have you looked me up?”

Listen, I’m not shy, and I’m a confident gal, so I have no problem admitting I have, in fact, looked him up. But also, his face is everywhere on this campus. And I’ve seen him on SportsCenter more than once.

“Yeah, I have. But don’t act like you aren’t basically a celebrity on campus.” I roll my eyes, smiling.

“You looked me up.” His grin is so wide that I can’t help but laugh.

The waiter comes back over and places the check on the table, then takes Archie’s plate. Archie reaches for it and pulls out his wallet.

“I can pay for my half,” I offer.

“Darlin’, don’t insult me. I would never in a million years let you pay. Call me old-fashioned, but not happening.” He hands the waiter his card and nods to him.

“You can take your time eating. I’m in no rush.” He nods to my bowl.

“No, I’m good. I wasn’t really hungry, but while I wasn’t nauseous, I wanted to try to eat something.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin and set it back in my lap.

“Is that all you wanted to know about me? About my family?”

I cross my arms and look at him with an arched brow. There are so many things I want to know about him, yet there are only so many hours in the day. “Okay, Archie. I need to ask you three very important questions that could make or break this relationship.”

He leans forward, as if ready for the challenge. “Fire away.”

“One, when you travel, do you need a packed itinerary for max efficiency, or are you a go where the wind takes you kinda guy?”

He purses his mouth in contemplation. “I like a loose itinerary. The main hits of the trip are planned, like dinner or a tour, with some wiggle room on what we do in between.”

I nod in appreciation. I am a consummate planner who even schedules my time to relax, which is probably not the best.

Liking his answer, I continue, “Two, what is a movie you’ve seen a million times and would watch again if it came on TV?”

“ The Parent Trap ,” he answers easily. “The Lindsay Lohan version. Don’t look at me like that.

It’s a great movie, and when I’m home, it always happens to be playing on cable.

My mom loves those sappy channels. No lie—I’ve seen that movie so many times, and I’d totally watch it again if it were on right now.

That, and Crazy, Stupid, Love . So cool how all the stories just wind into each other. You’ve seen that?”

I grin. “I have. Why did I expect you to say a football movie or a Marvel film?”

“Because that’s what all guys like, but I’m not your typical guy.”

“That you’re not.”

“Okay, what’s your last question?”

I smash my lips together for a moment before asking, “What is the one thing you’re most passionate about?”

His eyes zero in on mine and widen slightly.

The dark orbs hold my gaze and pierce me with a searing heat that warms me more than the soup.

It feels like I’m the one thing he is most passionate about, which is ridiculous because we’ve known each other for a combination of hours—yet it already feels like one of the most important relationships I’ve ever had in my life.

I suppose it is.

I sit back and wait for him to answer. When he does, it’s with sheer conviction.

“Being a man.”

I blink at him and then scowl slightly, wondering where he’s going with that comment.

“Faith, family, and hard work. That’s what it takes to be a man, and I work damn hard every day to be a good one. ”

Well, color me taken aback, but that was perhaps the best answer to a question I’ve ever heard.

I like this man. I like him so much. My chest feels like it’s tightening, which could be good or bad. I’m either smitten or having a heart attack. Verdict’s currently out.

He has a smug smile. “Are these the questions you ask all your dates?”

I lift a shoulder. “No. I just made them up.”

He laughs out loud. “So, they were just special for me?”

“I wanted to learn more about you, and those are what came to mind.”

“You’re an interesting one. I have to keep my eye on you.”

When Archie gets his card back from the waiter, he puts it back into his wallet. “You ready to go then?”

I nod and place my napkin on the table next to the bowl. I start to get up, but Archie comes around the table before I do and holds out his hand to help me up. Not that I need help, but it’s kinda cute.

He keeps my hand in his as we walk out. I look around the restaurant and notice people watching us leave. This must happen to him a lot.

When we walk out of the restaurant, I move next to him, and we walk toward my car. “This is me.”

I turn to face him and rest my back against the driver’s door. We’re still holding hands, and I haven’t let go yet.

He comes in closer and brings his other arm to rest against the top of the car over my shoulder. Our faces are a breath apart.

“Emma, I gotta tell you. That little skirt thing you’re wearing is fucking hot.” The heat in his eyes makes me believe him.

“Oh, yeah?” I say breathily.

There’s something so sexy about the way Archie says exactly what he’s thinking, when he’s thinking it.

No games.

Just pure honesty.

He leans in closer. “Definitely. Are you gonna let me give you a kiss good night? You know, since this was our first date and all.”

I pull my head back and look at him. “Is that what this was? Our first date? Hmm … not sure I’d count this as a date, but I’ll let you kiss me.”

With no hesitation, he releases my hand and cups my face with both of his hands. When his lips cover mine, I can’t keep my moan from slipping out. He was the last person I kissed, and I gotta say, my memory was accurate.

The kiss starts slow. He’s teasing the seam of my lips with his tongue, and I gladly open for him. I meet his tongue stroke for stroke. My hands move to his waist, and I grab on to the bottom of his shirt. When our mouths open just a bit more, he deepens the kiss. This time, he groans.

Needing to feel his body, I pull him in closer to me. I let my hands drift up his chest, then around his neck, and slide my hands into his hair. With his body against mine, I can feel his erection poking into my belly. The burst of heat that rips through me makes me hold him tighter.

He pulls back, breathing heavy. “Darlin’, I’m about two seconds away from picking you up and fucking you against this car.

Not that I don’t want that—because believe me, I do—but we’re in a parking lot at a restaurant.

I want to ask you to come home with me, but I really don’t think that’s what you need right now.

You should probably get home and get some rest. Do you want me to follow you home? ”

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. “Yeah, I should probably get home. I need to do some reading and get to bed early. I have an eight thirty a.m. class.”

“Why on earth would you pick a class that early in the mornin’?” He chuckles.

I look up at him and shrug. “I’m an early riser, and it just fit with my course schedule and golf.”

His hands are still holding my face, and his thumb swipes my cheek softly. “You’re so pretty. I can’t wait to spend more time with you, Emma Tucker.” He leans in and kisses me gently on the lips.

When he pulls back, he releases me and steps back. He reaches down and adjusts his erection. “Hate wearing boxers. So restrictive.”

I shake my head and smile. “Night, Archie. Thanks for dinner.”

I turn and open my door. He grabs of the top of the door, holding it open while I get in.

Once I’m buckled, he bends down slightly. “Text me when you get home?”

“Will do.” I nod.

He stands and closes the door, taps the hood twice, then backs up.

I pull out of the spot and start driving. I can’t help but look in my rearview mirror and see him standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching me drive away.