CHAPTER 17
Bree
I left the diner later that afternoon and noticed that it felt markedly cooler–still warm and mostly summer-like, even thought it was the beginning of September, but I thought the feel of fall was in the air. The leaves were just beginning to change color here and there and I saw jeans and sweaters in my near future. I paused at my car. Did that mean I was going to stay here? I'd been in Pelion less than a month, but already I was starting to think of it as home. I'd have to think about it all. For right now, I didn't feel any rush.
I opened the door to my car and suddenly felt a light tap on my shoulder. I startled, inhaling a sharp breath and whirling around. A pair of golden brown eyes met me. For the briefest portion of a second, I was confused, as my eyes scanned the beautiful face under a head of short, dark, cropped hair. Archer. I breathed out, laughing and putting my hand to my chest.
He smiled. Sorry.
I laughed again. It's okay. I just didn't hear you approach. I furrowed my brow. What are you doing here?
I'm here for you, he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes for a second before bringing his hands out of his pockets and back up. Is that okay? He kept his head bowed, but looked up at me, squinting slightly. My stomach flipped.
Yeah, that's okay, I said, smiling at him. I got the bouquet you left for me. I loved it.
He nodded, smiling a small smile, but then his face took on a worried expression. I'm sorry about yesterday, he said, raking his hand through his short hair. I should explain, I–
Archer, I said, grabbing his hand to stop him from speaking, how about that cooking lesson tonight and we can talk then? Would that be okay?
He studied me for a second and then nodded, yes, sticking his hands back in his pockets and glancing around nervously.
I smiled. Okay, great… good. I'll go home and get cleaned up and bike over.
He nodded again, yes.
Get in, I said, pointing to my car. I'll drive you home.
He looked at my car like it was a flying saucer. No, I'll walk.
I frowned at him. Archer, honestly. Why walk when I can drive you?
He started to back away. I'll see you in a little while.
I just looked at him until he turned and started walking away. Well, suit yourself then, I thought. It was then that I noticed all the people looking my way curiously, walking by slowly, not even trying to hide their nosiness. Geez, small towns could be seriously annoying. Was there any privacy here at all?
I got in my car and drove home.
**********
Once I got to my cottage, I took a quick shower and pulled on my pale yellow linen shorts and my favorite, white tank top. I dried my hair partway and tied it back loosely, leaving a few strands out to frame my face. I took a few extra minutes in front of the mirror, wanting to look nice for Archer, and feeling excited flutters in my tummy at the thought of spending time with him.
Twenty minutes later, Phoebe and I pulled up to Archer's open gate, wheeled inside, and I closed it behind us.
As usual, Phoebe took off across the yard, in search of Kitty and the puppies that were now following after their mama as she went on covert missions all over the property. I smiled to myself. I think I would have liked to meet Uncle Nate.
Archer came out of his house and smiled at me, and I grinned back, walking toward him. It was going to take me some time to get used to his new look. God, he was gorgeous. Granted, his clothes were still a little odd for a twenty-something guy who… wait, how old was Archer anyway?
About twenty feet from him, I signed, How old are you?
He looked confused for a second, and then looked off in the distance as if he was calculating and said, Twenty-three.
I stopped, frowning. Why do you look confused?
He shook his head slightly. Uncle Nate didn't exactly celebrate birthdays so I forget the year sometimes. My birthday is December second.
I didn't know what to say to that. No one had celebrated his birthday? All these years? It seemed like a relatively simple thing and yet for some reason, it made my heart squeeze painfully.
I'm sorry, Archer, I said when I got right up to him.
He shrugged as if it was neither here nor there. Come inside?
I nodded.
"By the way," I said, following behind him into his house, "you don't know anything about my loose front stair do you?" I had noticed that it wasn't loose anymore when I had gotten home from work earlier. There was no way George Connick would know about that. I hadn't called him. The last person who'd been up my stairs was Archer.
He looked back at me and turned his body slightly. It was dangerous, he said. I went over and fixed it earlier today. It only took a few minutes.
I breathed out. "Thank you. That was really thoughtful." God, this man. He was going to kill me with sweetness overload.