When Fall Fades (The Girl Next Door Series Book 1)

by Simpson, Amy Leigh

  If he were smart he would start distancing himself—had to happen at some point. Though, at the moment, as he walked away from her each step seemed to hack out another hunk of his limited supply of hope for the future. Leaving him feeling hollow. And he realized, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn’t like the feeling. Not one bit.

  Archer changed into the spare suit he kept in his office. He hated being at work in casual clothes—his suit was his shield, and he needed the sense of normalcy to focus.

  As much as he tried to work, distractions crowded his mind. Funeral arrangements he promised to help his mom with midweek. Scheduling time off to go back to Kansas, without Sadie, for the funeral next weekend. Not to mention finding some way to exorcize her from his mind—or more critically, his heart.

  Out of nowhere he had the strangest urge to pray. He smiled, knowing it was exactly what Sadie would suggest he do. In all honesty, it was the last thing he felt like doing.

  Feeling oddly self-conscious about the notion, he brushed it off and continued going through case files and messages. Unproductive and scattered minutes turned into an hour of battling with his own stubbornness. He finally relented. “Fine, but you asked for it.”

  He bowed his head and closed his eyes, the words strained and sour on his tongue. “God, what am I supposed to do here? Maybe if you’re not too busy you cou—“

  The door handle rattled, and Archer jerked his head up. Sal strolled into his office. “Hayes? What are you doing here? I thought I heard you went out of town for some family thing.”

  “Yeah, I just got back. My car was ready, so I came here. My, uh, my dad died.”

  “Aw man, I’m sorry … Wait, if your dad just died why do you look so …” He tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Hopeful?”

  “I do?” Huh? What was I thinking about before Sal burst in—Oh.

  “Maybe you should call it a day, Ace? Couldn’t have been an easy weekend.”

  “I’m fine,” Archer ground out, “and we’re here to work.”

  “All right, all right.” Though Sal often appeared aloof, he was actually incredibly perceptive. Helpful on a case, annoying in conversation.

  “Anything new pop up on the Westwick case?”

  “I just got the results back from the lab on John Westwick’s supply. It doesn’t mean that he’s not our guy, but the anesthetic used to kill Charles Westwick didn’t come from his son’s immediate stash. Records don’t indicate his practice carrying anything similar, ever.”

  “Shoot. I had a feeling that would’ve been too easy. Where does that leave us?” The case had been the furthest thing from Archer’s mind. He needed to regroup. Reprioritize. Something he’d never had to do before.

  “Well, while you were gone this morning I heard from Candice Stevens, the new ME. She said she wants us to come down to the morgue first thing Monday morning. I think she found something good, but she said she needed a few more days to confirm.”

  “And Stink Eye?”

  “Still in the hospital. Surgery went okay, but he hasn’t woken up from the anesthesia, which apparently isn’t a real good sign.”

  “Great.” Archer huffed. He couldn’t wait to put this case behind him. No more reminders of the ghosts of war. No more guilt about Charlie. And no more Sadie. “I just noticed this update on Reamus—the captain of Charlie’s battalion. It’s like the guy disappeared. We need to get to the bottom of this, soon.”

  “I’ll do some more digging. See what I can come up with.”

  Archer nodded and Sal started to leave, but he doubled back at the door. “Whatever is responsible for this change, don’t let it go. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you. That’s gotta mean something.” Then he left, having deposited that puzzling little tidbit to throw Archer off track all over again.

  Letting his head fall into his hands, he dug his fingers into his scalp, let out a growl of frustration. He wasn’t sure if it was the praying or Sadie that had short-circuited his brain, but he knew that neither would be the most optimal answer. He said I looked hopeful?

  Do I feel hopeful?

  Well, with Sadie that made sense. She was about as close to perfect as they came and seemed to bring out a side of him he hadn’t known existed. But he’d just started praying when Sal burst in, hadn’t he? Fine, so not a very powerful, heartfelt communication, but the pieces of his broken faith were still shifting beneath his feet.

  Why was it so hard to get back on solid ground?

  It’s not.

  Archer shook away the voice in his head. He’d just gone down this painful road with that stupid box from his closet, and then again with his dad. He was overloaded, emotionally unsteady, and as a result, not thinking clearly.

  Once this case was over everything would go back to normal. A thought he refused to acknowledge depressed the heck out of him.

  Where had he put it this time?

  Archer was losing it—the sharp edge of his highly trained mind dulling to the consistency of that spongy shag carpet. Rearranging and lifting the papers, he tried to remember if he’d set his phone down on the cluttered disaster of his desk. He’d already checked his pockets and his overnight bag. Then he called the stupid thing from his office phone. All of which led to a resounding nothing.

  Last time he’d used it he was in Sadie’s Jeep. He swore under his breath and picked up his office line. His fingers hovered over the numbers he’d already committed to memory. “Just get it over with.” How was he supposed to go about forgetting this girl when he kept conveniently leaving things behind?

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Sadie, its Archer.” The idiot from a few hours ago.

  “Hey, are you doing okay?” The tender concern in her voice made him feel like a colossal jerk.

  “Yeah. I’m hangin’ in. I was wondering if I left my phone in your car?” Smooth move, Arch. Skip the pleasantries and get right to business.

  “Oh. Umm, let me run out and check.”

  A silent minute ticked by. Archer knew he should say something but for some heinous reason, he was at a loss. The yips were upon him.

  Maybe his feelings had gotten a bit tangled from their overnight getaway and the pressure was getting to him. Whatever it was, he needed to pull it together before he made a complete ass of himself.

  “Yeah, it’s here. It slipped between the seat and the console.”

  Perfect. Just freaking perfect.

  It wasn’t a good time to see Sadie again, everything was too fresh. His defenses were at a critical low, but it would seem he had no choice.

  “Archer, are you there?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. Would it be all right if I came by to get it?” His throat was as barren as the Iraqi desert, but he managed to get the words out.

  “I won’t be here. I have this benefit dinner my mom organized tonight at the City Museum. And I’d drop it by before, but I’m already running behind.”

  “The City Museum is pretty close to here. I could meet you there?”

  Silence. She was stalling. “Uh … yeah, that’s fine. Just meet me outside the front entrance around seven fifteen.”

  “Okay … good … thanks.” Every stupid word out of his mouth was as painful as a root canal—and they were only talking on the phone. In fifteen minutes they’d be face-to-face.

  Time to focus. Game face. Archer snapped into the old familiar mold, deciding it was as good a time as any to remind himself who he was. He stood from his desk, straightened his tie, cracked his neck, letting the machine take over. It was a matter of discipline.

  No more romantic thoughts about the girl next door. No more distractions. Period.

  He pulled up to the City Museum—an eclectic playground of unique and recycled art—got out and started pacing around the front entran
ce walkway. A hum of voices chattered from inside the museum doors, the glass revealing men in suits and women in long, drab evening gowns rubbing elbows.

  Sadie was late. As the minutes ticked by he grew more apprehensive about his decision. He should’ve had her leave his phone on her porch. Then he could have avoided this confrontation. Though, the brewing mass of gray shifting overhead meant rain and that wouldn’t have been good. Maybe her mailbox? A Ziploc bag? It didn’t matter now. He was here. He was in control.

  He hadn’t decided what he would say. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. Maybe he could just grab his phone and—

  “Hey Archer, I’m over here.”

  Archer turned and was paralyzed by the sight of Sadie gliding toward him in a flowing peach-colored evening gown. Her hair illuminated under the streetlights, slightly curled and silky, spilling like liquid sunshine over her bare shoulders. “I …” He stammered. “You look …” No amount of eloquent words could do her justice.

  A playful smile etched tiny dimples in her cheeks, her skin shimmering and golden. She was, in a word, radiant. “What’s the matter, cat gotcha tongue?”

  He nodded, his eyes never leaving her. “Apparently.”

  “I’ve got to get in there. Here …” She held out her hand to him, and he reached for her.

  When he gripped the phone his fingers brushed the smooth skin of her wrist. An electrical current jolted him out of his stupor, a tingling aftereffect lingered like static on his skin.

  He had the strangest sense of déjà vu. As if the moment, and the vision of Sadie, reminded him of a dream he’d had. Thankfully he found his voice. “Before you go, I wanted to say I’m—”

  “Sadie! There you are. You’re late!” A woman who looked remarkably like Sadie with a shorter haircut and fine lines around her eyes hustled over to where they stood. “Oh my … but you brought a man. All is forgiven.”

  “Mom, no I—”

  In a swift movement the woman linked arms with Archer and ushered him through the doors, filling every millisecond with talk to stifle any objections. “I’m Sadie’s mother, Lorelei Carson. You can call me Lorelei if you like or Mrs. Carson if you’re more formal. I’m so glad that you came. Sadie always tells me she’s not going to bring anyone to my fund-raisers, but I always save an extra seat at our table just in case. And now, look how lucky we are that you’re here. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

  “Uh, Archer Hayes, ma’am.” He shot a pleading look to Sadie for help, the cautions she had taken to avoid her mother suddenly making sense.

  Sadie shrugged and rolled her eyes—mournfully following them in.

  “… and there’s a steak dinner. I hope you aren’t one of those vegetarians. Then again, you don’t feel like one,” Lorelei paused and gave his bicep a squeeze, testing her theory. “Oh! And there’s dancing, you do dance don’t you, Archer?”

  “I … uh … I do, yes …” His panicked gaze found Sadie, who looked like she was starting to enjoy his discomfort, “… when forced.” He granted Lorelei a tight smile. She then indiscreetly glanced at Sadie and mouthed “wow.”

  Sadie collapsed her head in her hands in an exaggerated gesture. Archer chuckled as Lorelei practically strong-armed them into their seats. Her mom continued to flit around the table, socializing without pause.

  Archer leaned over and whispered in Sadie’s ear. “So, that’s your mom. I see the freeze out didn’t accomplish much.” He lingered a moment, catching the faintest trace of a sweet honeydew scent lifting from her skin.

  “Never does. She’s a real piece of work, isn’t she?”

  He nodded comically.

  “Feel free to create an excuse if you need to leave. I’ll cover for you. I’m really sorry about this.” Her hushed tone made him want to edge closer than necessary. But she didn’t seem to welcome the closeness. Preoccupied with her fidgeting fingers in her lap, she seemed … self-conscious, embarrassed. Not quite herself.

  Had he hurt her with his not-so-subtle nervous brush-off this afternoon?

  What was his problem? She was an innocent who had opened herself up to some emotionally unavailable workaholic. It wasn’t her fault, it was his. More than anything he wanted to protect her heart, her pride, the fragile trust she’d placed in his hands just last night. And then this morning, when his restraint almost snapped under the tender assault of her lips against his skin and her soft curves in his hungry hands. He tightened his fists. Even though he couldn’t have her, he couldn’t let her think he didn’t want her—nothing could be further from the truth.

  He leaned in again just because he could, his lips a breath from her ear. “Don’t be sorry. I get to enjoy a steak dinner and be the envy of every guy in the room.” That was more like it.

  Archer was rewarded with a shy smile, a pink glow filling her cheeks.

  “Well, well, Agent Hayes right?” Archer managed to tear his eyes from Sadie. Her brother, Finn, approached the table and extended his hand. He whispered to Sadie through a tight smile as Archer returned the shake. “Who’s the traitor now, lil sis?”

  To which Sadie mimicked a smiling reply. “All the winners on your speed dial turn you down, big brother?”

  Archer sneaked a curious glance between the siblings before he spoke. “Nice to see you again, Finn.”

  Sadie’s mom must have overheard the “agent” part of Finn’s greeting because she starting gushing to a woman at their table about Sadie’s FBI boyfriend.

  Sadie tipped her head back, exposing the long, elegant curve of her neck and groaned her mortification. When she came back from indulging her embarrassment, she leaned in and winced, her eyes breathtakingly vulnerable. “Did I mention how sorry I am?”

  He leaned in more, this time brushing his lips against her ear. “Did I mention how incredibly beautiful you look tonight?” He was toeing the line, failing this exercise of control but he didn’t care. He should care, wanted to care. But he didn’t.

  When she pulled back the smoldering look in her eyes was his undoing. That was it. The end of his solo mission. Emboldened by that steady, wanting gaze, he slipped his hand under the table and found her delicate fingers. The conversations around them continued as she traced circles in his palm, then she turned his hand over, placed it on her silky gown-covered thigh, and stroked her hand over his. Oh man, he wanted her. He saw her longing reflected back like the bluest sky on a clear, placid lake. His world was already upside down, so before he could think better of the repercussions, he withdrew his hand, stood, and pulled out her chair. When they drew a few curious glances he stated simply, “Excuse us for a minute.”

  His heart boxed his ribs as he took her hand again, wove like a running back toward the end zone, and led her out of the room. Neither of them shattered the moment with words, there was no need for them. And he didn’t dare steal a glance at her for fear he would lose his nerve, but he wondered if she knew what was coming. He led her through a roped off area and found a dark corner in the closed exhibit.

  She took charge, pressing him against the wall. His chest heaved against her palm. There was only a moment, one breath between them, and then they were locked together in a kiss.

  Have. Mercy.

  This was no sampling. It was an all-out feast.

  His mind unhinged, and there were no consequences, no dangers. Nothing else but this. Nothing but Sadie. The woman who was single-handedly dismantling his carefully crafted existence.

  It had nearly killed him not to kiss her last night when she’d spent hours in his arms. Now it felt like he’d die if he stopped. She was waking him up, and drawing him out of the dark shadows and into the sun where everything was impossible to trust because it was quite simply too bright and beautiful to last.

  He’d never been indulgent in anything. Sadie was the exception. And while he could admit to himsel
f that his intentions were careening down an overindulgent path, there was also something so tangibly honest and full of promise contained in the kiss that both thrilled and terrified him.

  Chapter 27

  Sadie Carson

  Was this really happening? One minute she thought he was blowing her off, the next the gloves had been thrown down and they were charging full speed ahead. She’d wondered if their first kiss had been an anomaly—wondered if anything would ever compare. But somehow this one—which was definitely more than one—was in a league of its own.

  And though it was only a kiss, it was so much more. It was a force so strong it swept her away. It was hurricane Archer, its power unparalleled.

  But this thing, this perfect storm, was destined for calamity. Their story didn’t get a happy ending. She wasn’t even sure she believed in them anymore. And that meant this was a moment to be savored because nothing could possibly measure up to the kind of fierce and unquenchable passion they created together. She might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

  One kiss blurred into the next. Thorough, hungry kisses that grew more and more desperate. Straining closer, devouring with everything they had until they couldn’t breathe.

  He broke away, letting his lips roam her face—her eyelids, her cheekbones, her jaw …

  Her breath caught on a gasp, shivers shifting through her when he found a spot to claim on her neck behind her ear. The devastating combination of his tenderness and desperation literally loosed her knees. His arms wrapped tighter, and he lifted her before she buckled, capturing her lips again and swallowing her moans as her legs encircled his waist.

  She didn’t remember making a conscious decision but suddenly his tie hung loose, and she was working the top buttons of his shirt open until her hands touched the hot skin of his chest. “Archer …”