Archer's Voice(28)

I nodded. Before I had moved to Pelion, I hadn't even realized that people owned whole towns. "I see. Well, that's great, Travis. And the fact that you also followed in your dad's footsteps and became a cop– I admire that a lot."

Travis looked pleased. He wined and dined me, keeping the conversation light and fun. I was having a good time. When we were in the middle of our meal, and he asked me what I had been doing for fun in town other than my night out with Melanie and Liza, I paused, and then said, "Actually, I've been spending some time with Archer."

He choked on his sip of water, bringing his napkin up to his mouth. "Archer? You're joking, right?"

I shook my head, frowning. "No. Did you know he signed?"

"Uh, no," he said. "He wouldn't even look at me the last time I acknowledged him in town."

I studied him. "Hmm, well, he's not the most trusting person. But I think he has really good reason for that. Maybe you should try a little harder."

He looked at me over the rim of his wine glass before taking a sip. "Maybe. Okay." He paused. "So what do you two do together exactly?"

"Well," I said, "talk mostly. I sign too–my dad was deaf."

He looked surprised for a second. "Well, that's a coincidence. What does Archer have to say exactly?"

I shrugged. "We talk about a lot of stuff. He's nice, and smart, and… interesting. I like him."

Travis furrowed his brow. "Okay, well hey, Bree, be careful of him, okay? He's not exactly… stable. I know that for a fact. Trust me." He looked up at me with concern. "I wouldn't want him to do anything to hurt you."

I nodded at him. "I'm not worried about that," I said softly.

I didn't ask about his dad and Archer's dad, even though I knew a little bit about the supposed rivalry between them. For some strange reason, I wanted to hear about it from Archer, not Travis. I wasn't sure exactly why–perhaps it was the fact that Archer and I had formed more of a friendship than Travis and I had as of yet.

In any case, Travis changed the subject after that and moved us back onto lighter ground. After he had paid the bill and we got in his truck, he took my hand across the seats and held it all the way back to my cottage.

He walked me to the door, those butterflies swarming in my belly again. When we got to my porch and I turned to him, he took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth and I froze up slightly, but he pressed forward, and after a couple seconds, I relaxed. He kissed me with skill, his hands moving down to my shoulders and then down over my back without me even realizing it until he was cupping my ass and bringing me up against him. I felt his arousal through his pants and broke the kiss, both of us breathing hard as I looked up into his lust-filled eyes. Something felt… off. It must just be me. I needed to take things slowly. The last time a man had looked at me with lust in his eyes had been the most traumatic moment of my life. I needed to take baby steps here.

I smiled at Travis. "Thank you for a really nice night," I said. He smiled back and kissed my forehead gently.

"I'll call you. Goodnight, Bree."

He turned and walked down my steps and when his truck started up, I went inside and closed my door behind me.

**********

The next day, I woke up early, had a doozy of a flashback–apparently, date nights out with cute guys wasn't the cure there either–and then dragged myself to the kitchen for a cup of hot tea.

When I remembered that today was my cooking lesson with Archer, happiness fluttered gently in my belly, replacing the feeling of dread from the flashback. I needed to figure out what I should show him how to make. A nervous thud pounded in my chest when I considered cooking again. Was this a good idea? I had said baby steps last night when it came to intimacy, and baby steps with cooking felt right too. I wasn't actually going to be immersing myself in a complicated meal creation. I was going to be showing Archer how to prepare something simple. It was perfect. I felt good about it. And I was looking forward to spending time with him.

I stood at the sink, steeping my tea bag and sipping carefully at the hot liquid, considering all of that and feeling better. The flashback had been a bad one, but once again, I was going to be okay. Until tomorrow, when it would happen again. I leaned heavily against my counter, trying not to let the depression of that thought take over.

Thankfully work was busy at the diner and the day flew by. I headed home and showered and pulled on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top and sat down at my kitchen table and made a list of ingredients. When I was done with that, I grabbed my purse and keys and slipped on my flip flops.

Ten minutes later, I was pulling into the parking lot of the downtown grocery store. I smiled to myself as I walked toward the font door recalling the last time I'd been here and how I'd felt when Archer had turned around and said goodnight to me. I'd felt like that person who opens her door and a sweepstakes team is waiting outside. Two words from a silent boy–my unexpected windfall. It had thrilled me.

I checked out with enough money this time thank you very much, and drove the short distance back to my cottage.

Men like steak and potatoes. And Archer lived by himself. I thought I'd show him how to cook a steak perfectly, make a simple potatoes au gratin and a side of roasted parmesan green beans.