Archer's Voice(62)

Archer had this way of doing things that was so sexy and supremely male, it made my heart skip a beat at how naturally and unknowingly he did them. He would lean a hip against the counter in a certain way, or stand in a doorway holding on to the moulding above him as he watched me–things he had no idea affected me the way they did. It was just him being him, and somehow that made it even more appealing. There was no way I would tell him. I loved having that secret–I loved that those things were all mine, and I didn't want to affect his actions by making him aware of them. As for me, well, I was a total lost cause when it came to Archer Hale.

It made me wonder at the man he would have been if he hadn't been in that terrible accident, hadn't lost his voice… would he have been the quarterback of the football team? Gone to college? Run his own business? I had teased him once about being good at everything he did… and truly, he was. He just didn't see that. He didn't believe he had much of anything to offer.

He still hadn't opened up to me about the day that he lost his parents, and I hadn't asked him again. I wanted to know desperately what had happened to him, but I wanted to wait until he felt safe enough to tell me.

What are you thinking about? he asked, cocking one eyebrow up.

I smiled. You, I said. I was thinking about how I thank my lucky stars every day that I ended up here… right here, with you.

He smiled that sweet smile that made my stomach quiver and said, Me too. Then he frowned and looked away.

What? I asked, taking his chin and turning his face back to me.

Will you stay, Bree? He asked. Will you stay here with me? He looked like a little boy in that moment, and I realized how much he needed me to tell him that I wouldn't go away like everyone else in his life had.

I nodded my head. Yes, I said. Yes. I meant it with my whole heart. My life was here now–my life was this man. Whatever that meant–I wasn't going anywhere.

He looked in my eyes as if trying to decide if I was being completely honest and seemed to be satisfied with what he saw. He nodded and pulled me to him, holding me tight.

He hadn't told me he loved me, and I hadn't said it to him either. But in that moment, I realized I was in love with him. So deeply in love that it almost bubbled to the surface of my lips, and I had to physically clamp my mouth shut not to shout it. But somehow, I thought I needed to wait for him to say it. If he was falling in love with me, too, I wanted him to come to that realization on his own. Archer had lived a life so devoid of human kindness, of touch and attention. It had to be overwhelming for him. We hadn't discussed it, but I had watched his eyes as we did simple things over the past week, like lay on the couch and read, or eat a meal together, or walk on the shore of the lake, and it was as if he was trying to organize all the thoughts and feelings in his head–playing sixteen years of emotional catch up. Perhaps we should have talked about it, perhaps that would have helped him, but for some reason, we never did. Inside, it was my deepest hope that my love would be enough to heal his wounded heart.

After a minute he let go of me, and I sat up and looked at him. He had a small smile on his face. I have a favor to ask you, he said.

I furrowed my brows. Okay, I said, giving him a suspicious look.

Will you teach me how to drive?

How to… yes! Of course! You want to drive?

He nodded his head. My uncle had a pick-up truck. I keep it in a garage in town. They start it up every once in a while and drive it around. I always meant to sell it, but I just never got around to it, never really… knew exactly how I'd do that. But now maybe that's a good thing.

I was excited and I practically bounced up and down on the couch. This was the first real time that Archer had indicated on his own that he wanted to do something that would take him away from his own property–other than grocery shop.

Okay! When? I asked. I don't have to work tomorrow.

Okay then, tomorrow, he said, smiling and gathering me to him.

And so it came to be that Archer was behind the wheel of a big, piece of junk-looking pick-up truck, while I sat in the passenger seat, trying to teach him the rules of the road and how to operate a stick shift. We had chosen a large open space a couple miles down the highway, just off the lake.

"Smell that?" I asked. "That's the smell of burning clutch. Eeeeease off of it."

After about an hour of practice, Archer pretty much had it, with the exception of a few lurches, which had me stomping on my imaginary brake and laughing out loud.

He grinned over at me, his eyes roaming down to my bare legs. I followed his gaze and crossed my legs, hiking my skirt up just a little bit in the process and then glancing back up at him. His eyes were already dilating, making them dark and droop very slightly. Oh God, I loved that look. That look meant very, very good things for me.

"Driving is serious business, Archer," I said teasingly. "Letting your attention roam from the task at hand could be dangerous for everyone involved." I smiled prettily, tucking my hair behind my ear.

He raised his eyebrows, amusement filling his expression, and turned back to the front window. The truck moved forward, Archer speeding up and shifting into second gear easily. The dirt area we were in wasn't so large that Archer could practice fourth gear yet, but he moved to third gear and steered us in wide circles.

I crossed my legs in the other direction and ran a finger up my thigh, just stopping at the hem of my skirt. I glanced at Archer and his eyes were riveted on my finger. He glanced out the front window briefly and kept driving in wide circles.