wanted you to touch me. I thought that a whole helluva lot. But right now I’m just scared.” He turned to face her. “I shouldn’t have said that about your job. It was thoughtless.”

  “You said it because you thought I knew,” she said, capable of placing blame where it was due, and that wasn’t on him. “Not your fault, Caleb.”

  Not looking like he felt any better about it, he nodded. And then his phone went off with a text.

  “Shit,” he said, reading it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen but I’ve got some work stuff going on with Spence and he needs me.”

  “It’s okay,” Elle said, sensing a rat. A very cute, sexy geeky rat in glasses named Spence.

  “I’m sorry,” Caleb said with genuine regret. “Let me drive you home.”

  She glanced over his shoulder and felt her back teeth grind together. “No, it’s okay. I’m going to stay. Don’t worry about me, Caleb. I have a feeling something’s going to come up for me too.”

  Like committing murder . . .

  Caleb pulled her in for a quick hug and a kiss on her cheek. “Rain check,” he said.

  She smiled and watched him walk away before turning to Archer, standing on the other side of the pier.

  He pushed off the beam he’d been lazily leaning against and walked toward her.

  “Two for two,” she said. “You know, if you’re not careful, I’m going to think you’re into me.”

  “I am into you,” he said.

  “Because I’m suddenly unavailable to you and dating others?”

  “I told you,” he said. “Mike’s a player. I did you a favor.”

  “And Caleb?”

  “A good guy,” he allowed. “But you’re off-limits to him.”

  She crossed her arms. “And why is that? And it better not be because seeing others date me suddenly made you want to do the same.”

  His gaze never left her. “I don’t want to do the same as Mike or Caleb.”

  “No?” she asked.

  He gave a slow head shake. “No. Because dating isn’t all I want to do to you.”

  Not amused, she crossed her arms and glared at him. “Correct me if I’m wrong but you’ve had an entire year to act like a jealous idiot, Archer.”

  “Well, I’m dyslexic, so . . .”

  She was so mad that she actually couldn’t access most of her vocabulary. “You’re insane” was the best she could do.

  “In a good way, right?”

  “Oh my God.” Tossing up her hands, she turned to go anywhere but here.

  “You wanted a date tonight,” he said to her back. “Go out with me.”

  She faced him again. “Tell me one good reason why I would do that.”

  “Because we’ve never gone out on a date and that’s on me. I should have taken you out.”

  “You don’t date,” she reminded him. “You charm—when you’re in the mood. You play.” And ooze sex appeal . . . “But you don’t date, at least not like normal men.”

  “I do tonight,” he said. “Dinner, Elle. Or whatever you want.”

  She didn’t believe him, but she had questions, and she wanted answers. Here was an opportunity to grill him, and she did love a good opportunity. “Fine,” she said. “A hot dog.”

  “What?”

  She pointed to the hot dog stand.

  “That’s what you want for dinner on our first date,” he said. “A hot dog from a street vendor.”

  “Yep. Problem?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “But you’re letting me off easy and you don’t do easy. What’s the catch?”

  “No catch.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. She walked to the hot dog stand. She ordered two for herself and then piled them high with ketchup, mustard, and pickles. And then, just to be mean, she added onions.

  Archer watched her in silence, although she was pretty sure he shuddered at her plate. He also ordered two hot dogs, mustard only.

  “Boring,” she said.

  He looked surprised. Probably a woman had never called him boring before in his life.

  They found a bench facing the water where Archer proceeded to watch as she demolished her hot dogs. She might have bothered with a smidgeon of embarrassment but, one, it turned out being mad made her hungry, and two, his eyes were lit with genuine amusement.

  “What?” she asked testily.

  “I’m just impressed. I like a woman who can enjoy her food.”

  “Hmm,” she said, waiting until he took a big bite. “So. You got me my job?”

  He choked on the hot dog. It was greatly satisfying. She slapped him on the back a few times, probably harder than necessary. “You can use sign language if you need to but I want an answer.”

  “You got yourself the job,” he managed. “On your own merits. I just recommended you for it. That’s all.”

  So it was true. He’d interfered. The implications boggled her brain. “Wow,” she finally said. “Just wow.”

  “You can’t be mad,” he said. “It was all you.”

  “You know,” she said with a quiet she absolutely did not feel. The calm before the storm that was brewing inside her. A category five storm at that . . . “I’m not even sure where to start.”

  “Maybe you want to sleep on it,” he suggested.

  She opened her mouth and then closed it, sincerely having trouble finding the right words for the first time in her life. “I need . . . I don’t know.” She stood up, shaking her head when he tried to follow.

  “You need a minute,” he said. “I get that.”

  “Oh, I’m going to need more than a minute.” She drew a deep breath. “You know what, Archer? My needs are simple. All I’ve ever wanted was to be independent and strong. I thought I was doing both of those things but you just pulled the rug out from underneath me.”

  He grimaced. “Elle, listen to me. You are independent and strong. Christ, you’re the most independent, strong woman I know. You’re incredible. I hope you know that. I didn’t tell you because there was no reason to. You got the job because of you. Not me.”

  Fed up with him, she shook her head. “Don’t follow me.” And then she walked away, getting into the first cab she came to.

  Chapter 11

  #ThatsWhatSheSaid

  By some miracle, Archer managed to get into his truck and follow Elle’s cab back to the Pacific Pier Building. When she got out, so did he, and while she was looking in her purse for her wallet, he paid her driver.

  She chewed on her back teeth over that but didn’t argue. Mostly, he knew, because she was being polite in front of the cab driver. “Thanks,” she said begrudgingly. “But to be clear, I’m fine. You don’t need to watch out for me. You’ve done your time, a whole year apparently. I already owe you more than I can repay so please stop. I’m moving on and so should you.”

  He watched her walk off but she didn’t enter the pub as he’d expected. Instead she slowed at the fountain and stared pensively into the water, arms wrapped around herself as if cold. He waited, not wanting to intrude but also not wanting to walk away in case she needed him—a thought that was laughable because she’d made herself clear. She didn’t need anyone, and most certainly not him.

  She thought she still owed him. His worst nightmare, because as long as she truly believed that, he couldn’t even fantasize about having her as his someday. Because every time they were together, he’d worry it was in repayment.

  Which reminded him of something he was ashamed to realize he’d forgotten until right this very moment.

  Tonight was his dad’s retirement party and he hadn’t even RSVP’d. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t anything. With guilt and self-loathing rolling over him in waves, he pulled out his phone and accessed his contacts. He scrolled to his dad and stared at the number.

  Call or text? No, texting would be the chicken-shit route. He shoved the phone back into his pocket. Then he swore and tugged it out again, called, and . . . got his dad’s voice mail. “Dad,” he said at the beep. “Hey. Look, I k
now it’s last minute and I should’ve called you long before now and at least RSVP’d to your party tonight.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry but I’d like to still come by, if that’s okay with you. You can text if you’d rather just . . . Let me know.” Shit. He disconnected and stood there for a long beat, not sure what to do with himself. Finally he swore some more and then looked up at the odd prickling at the base of his neck.

  Elle was no longer by the fountain. She’d moved closer and stood right there, watching him.

  “Hey,” she said quietly, her expression softer than he was used to seeing when she looked at him. She felt sorry for him.

  And if that didn’t suck big-time. “Don’t,” he said.

  “Don’t what?”

  Pity me. But he couldn’t even say it. “I’ve gotta go,” he said instead and headed to the stairs. He had a damn suit in his damn office closet for the very occasional meetings that required it. He needed to change into it and get to his dad’s retirement party, hoping that late was better than never.

  “So we’re back to you being silent and brooding because I overheard your message to your dad?” she asked, hugging herself in the cold night air. “Kinda rude, don’t you think?”

  “Go to the pub, Elle.” But he should’ve known better. Telling her what to do never worked out for him but he just shook his head. “It’s warmer in there.” Then he jogged up the stairs and let himself into his office. Five minutes later he’d changed and was back outside.

  Elle stood there waiting for him. And something deep inside him tightened. In spite of his being a dick, she cared about him. He’d been doing his damnedest since that insane kiss they’d shared to not give out the wrong signals, but that was hard when he no longer knew wrong from right when it came to her. He was completely upside down. He shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped her up in it. “I told you to go inside, it’s too cold out here for that dress.” Which, just a side note, was hot as hell on her.

  “You’re not going to your dad’s retirement party alone,” she said.

  “Yes, I am.” It was his penance, and besides that, he didn’t want anyone witnessing what promised to be an incredibly awkward reunion. Archer hated awkward. Hated an audience to it even more.

  “I’ve texted Spence,” she said. “He’s on his way.”

  Shit. “I’m not bringing Spence. He’ll talk too much.”

  “You need to bring someone,” she insisted. “Finn’s working. How about Willa?”

  “She talks more than Spence.”

  Elle didn’t look particularly moved. “Okay then, one of your guys. Joe or Trev—”

  “Read my lips, Elle. No.”

  She crossed her arms, the stubborn look on her face said that she wasn’t going to let this go. He blew out a breath. “Fine. If you want someone to come with me so badly, then I vote for you. Get in the damn truck.”

  She arched a brow. “Out of all the people you know, you want to take the one person who drives you the most nuts? The one who’s mad at you? Really mad?”

  “I want the one person I trust to have my back for this.”

  That seemed to shock her. It certainly shut her up. And it had the added benefit of dissolving a whole lot of her resentment and anger too.

  But not all. Of course not. It was Elle, after all.

  “Fine,” she said, heading to his truck, heels clicking, hips moving in that innately sexy graceful way she had. “But don’t forget—this isn’t a date or a booty call.”

  He laughed. Laughed. Only she could do that to him, bring him out of a mood. Make his day. And maybe sometime he’d sit down and analyze that but it wouldn’t be today. “Can we just go?”

  “Oh by all means,” she said, “let’s get this over with.”

  He shook his head but had to admit that he loved her smartass mouth. In truth, he was crazy to bring her with him. Being around people right now was a bad idea. But being around Elle, the one person on the planet who knew the road map to getting beneath his skin? Insanity. There was a storm brewing big-time, which actually suited his mood. A big gust nearly knocked him on his ass as he opened the passenger door for her and she slid her warm, curvy body in past him, giving him a zing of awareness that rocked him from head to toe. Letting out a long, slow breath, he walked around and slid in behind the wheel. “You ready?”

  “I was born ready.”

  Yeah. That’s what he was afraid of.

  Elle watched Archer drive, his face as dark as the thunderclouds churning overhead. She knew the feeling of having so much going on inside that you felt like the storm was also raging inside your gut.

  “I can’t believe I almost forgot,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

  This shouldn’t have pierced her Archer-proof shield but it did. Archer spent a lot of his life being as tough and badass as possible. He had to be that way. But it was in moments like these that she realized he was human, just a flesh-and-blood man who made mistakes like everyone else. “Everyone forgets stuff,” she said. “Even important stuff. Like ‘oh, hey, I got you your job, no big.’”

  He slid her a look. “I should’ve gone this alone.”

  She sighed. “Could have, yes. Should have, no. Trust me, you need backup to deal with family.”

  This had his mouth quirking a little at the corners. “You going to keep me safe, Elle?”

  “Hey, I’ve got a knife.”

  “Yeah, you do.” He paused. “You ever going to tell me why you still have it?”

  Well she’d walked right into that one. “Sure. When you tell me why you got me the job.”

  “We’re still on that?”

  She sent him her best PMS look.

  “I didn’t get you the damn job,” he said. “I recommended you for it. And I did that because I could. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  She looked at him, watching as he drove the incredibly busy streets with an ease she never could have managed. “I carry the knife because it’s handy.”

  He shook his head. “It’s more than that.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Such a pretty liar.” He stopped for a red light and looked at her. “You want me to guess why you’re still carrying it after all these years?”

  Hell no.

  “Maybe you wanted to keep a piece of me,” he said.

  He was teasing her. Of course since it was also the truth, she got annoyed all over again. “Or,” she said, “I want to be able to take a piece out of anyone I need to. Including you, if you get too close. Don’t think I won’t.”

  This won her a small smile, like he understood her reasoning perfectly and he’d expected no less. “So you’re my body guard for the evening?” he asked.

  “Just for the evening, and then we go back to World War III. But yeah, for tonight, I’ve got your back, whatever you need.” She realized her mistake the minute the words left her mouth.

  And so did Archer as he sent her a gaze so sizzling she had to look down to make sure her clothes hadn’t melted off. Holy. Cow. Where had all that heat come from? “Well,” she finally managed. “Within reason, of course.”

  “Look at you,” he murmured. “Always a ready answer for everything.”

  Is that what he thought? “Have I ever gone back on my word with you?” she asked.

  Another considering look. “No. Never. Are you trying to tell me something?”