I walked out of the bathroom and pulled on my shirt, trying not to think about the way she’d looked at me before she got out of the car, like I’d just slapped her in the face. I seduced her and used her, then threw her away like she was nothing. Now I had to live with that.
There was a knock on my door. I climbed into my pants and hopped over to answer it. It was Mona.
“Good morning.” She strode inside my bedroom and took a look around like she was expecting the room to be destroyed from a night of animalistic sex. Disappointed, she took a seat at the desk chair in the corner.
I grabbed my shoes out of the closet, my back turned, and sat on the bed. I couldn’t look at her. The woman was far too perceptive. She’d see the shame in my eyes the second I lifted my head. “How’s your morning going?” I asked to ease some of the tension.
“What did you do?”
“What are you talking about?” I slipped into my shoes.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t hurt that girl.”
“Better to do it now before she gets hurt even worse.”
“But you feel bad, don’t you?”
“Dammit, I do.” I threw my other shoe against the wall.
“Does she hate you now?”
“Probably.” I grabbed my shoe and started putting it on.
“What happened?”
“I took her home that night. Then when I dropped her off, I gave her the cold shoulder.”
“But you want to hear from her again, don’t you?”
“Nothing can come of it.” I got up and grabbed my laptop.
“Then forget about it.” She followed me out into the hall. “If nothing could come of it, then it shouldn’t matter, right? She’s just another hole.”
“A hole?” I turned around to face Mona at the top of the stairs. “No, she’s…”
Mona smiled. “See, you don’t like me saying that, do you? You’re defensive because you know I’m right.”
“Don’t do this to me. It won’t work.”
“Call her, Archer.” She disappeared into the nursery.
I took out my phone when I got outside, hoping to distract myself with work, but the screen was blank. I kept expecting it to go off on my way to work, but things were slow. The Navy had already taken over the testing of the Hawkeye, and I was still waiting on Rick to build his sensor. The other projects we had were long term, so I didn’t have to worry about them. I had briefings sent directly to my mailbox at the office.
Normally, I would’ve welcomed a quiet morning, but I didn’t feel comfortable in my skin. I felt dirty, like I’d done something wrong, and in a way, I had. Zoe and I had clicked, but instead of taking advantage of that, I screwed her and dropped her back at home.
We were so much alike. All she cared about were her ambitions and making something of herself. She was nothing like the freeloading gold-diggers I’d dated in the past. She didn’t care about what I could buy her or how much was in my bank account. For a rich man like me, a girl like that is a once in a lifetime opportunity, not somebody I could throw away like a dirty rag.
Halfway to the base, I pulled out my phone again. I could call her, but what would I say? She didn’t want to hear from me after the way that I acted. Still, there was a chance she’d listen, and that was worth the risk.
When the car dropped me back at the office, I snuck in and locked the door so I could get a moment of peace. I had to be realistic about this. Nothing was going to happen. If I called her, I’d be leading her on. But I couldn’t just walk away after Saturday night. Zoe was my heroin. The second I got a taste, I had to have more. One night wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t sure how she’d react to me calling her. If she had any sense at all, she’d hang up and never talk to me again. She probably would. The woman wasn’t stupid. But there was still a possibility that she’d answer and give me another chance. I felt terrible, like I was planning somebody’s murder. It wasn’t worth taking the risk and hurting her, but how could I possibly resist?
There was a knock at my door. “Come in.”
Rick strode in. “Tell me you had a good weekend.” He took a seat at my desk.
“I don’t know.” I looked down at my phone.
“What do you mean you don’t know? You either did, or you didn’t.”
“It’s more complicated than that. It was an amazing night. She’s a great lay, but in the end, I just had to drop her off like she was a hooker or something. I think it got to her.”
“Don’t get sentimental about this kind of thing. It’s just one woman.”
“I mean it, Rick. I really feel terrible about it. I think I’m gonna give her a call and apologize.”
“No, man. That’s the last thing you wanna do. Before you know it, she’ll be hitting you up for cash. What you need is another good night to get your mind off her. You don’t want to get caught up with the first girl you see.”
“I want her.”
“You’re gonna have to find a way to forget about it.” He got up to leave. “The Navy’s launching the Hawkeye later on. Thought I’d check to see if you wanted to come down.”
“No, I’ve got work to do here.”
“All right. Next time you wanna head out, just let me know.”
“Thanks.” He made it sound easy, like I could just dip my cock into somebody else and forget that Zoe ever existed. But I’d been with plenty of women. Half the time I was just going through the motions out of boredom. There was no thrill there, no magic, not like with Zoe. I couldn’t forget a night like that, and I couldn’t let things be after the way I acted. That wouldn’t be right. I had to talk to her. Maybe, if I did this right, she’d understand that I wasn’t just some prick looking for a hole to put my dick into.
Chapter Twelve
Zoe
Work was the only thing that mattered. The bakery needed to be swept and mopped. Chloe ate the last croissants the day before, which meant I’d have to go through the painstaking process of making the dough and molding it just right. It was better that way. I didn’t have time to think of anything else, so I started the mixer and got things going while I rushed around the kitchen, wiping down the counter, cleaning out the sink, and ultimately mopping the floor. It didn’t really need mopping, but I couldn’t stand around.
The second I stopped, I’d see Archer, leaning over me, his cock surging through me. It was too dangerous to swoon over a pig like him. He made sure that I knew exactly how he felt. He didn’t want me, and I was going to have to accept that.
I started a batch of blueberry syrup on the stove and walked out into the lobby. It was still early. The sun was up, but there was nobody out. There wouldn’t be any customers for at least another hour, and it was going to take some time for the dough to be ready.
I hated myself for letting Archer get to me. I couldn’t let it continue, but standing alone in the lobby with nothing to do wasn’t going to make things any better. I must’ve been the stupidest woman on the entire planet. The man was a pig. He didn’t even want me. He just wanted to screw me, and he was taken. There was no chance we could be together, so why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?
I walked back into the kitchen to start working on the croissants. I’d put so much time and energy into working that I’d suppressed everything else. Now I was rebelling, acting out, making reckless decisions—thinking about a man I couldn’t have.
I had to stop this. No man was worth the kind of trouble I’d have to face if I got distracted from work. I pulled out a bag of yeast, some flour, and water and mixed it into the mixing bowl. Then, I left it to rise while I stirred the blueberry syrup. It was watery, so I turned on the heat a little higher.
The doorbell rang, and Chloe walked in. “Hey,” she called out from the lobby.
“You’re on time.” I came out to give her a quick hug.
“Don’t remind me.” She started clocking in at the register while I walked back into the kitche
n so I could taste the blueberry syrup. It was rich but a little too tart. I reached up into the cupboard above the stove to grab a jug of sugar then turned around to set it down on the counter.
Chloe was staring at me with a big grin. “How was your weekend?”
“I’m tired. I just want to get things done and have an easy day.” I opened the sugar jug and measured out two cups.
“What’d he do?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about it, and I don’t have time for distractions. I have to make these croissants and the syrup. Archer doesn’t matter.” I poured the sugar into the syrup pot.
“Something’s up.” She walked into the walk-in and helped herself to a glazed donut.
“No.” I stomped inside. “There is nothing ‘up.’ He’s a complete jackass, and I want nothing to do with him.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
“Oh, no. You don’t get to come at me like that, trying to say I’m all defensive.”
“Are you defensive?”
“I’m pissed is what I am.” I grabbed a nectarine off the shelf and took a bite. “He was too good to be true.”
“Well, what was so good about him?”
“He’s rich. He’s a hard worker. He cares about nothing but business, and he’s easy to talk to.”
“But…”
“All right.” I walked back out into the kitchen. “You really wanna know what happened?”
“Yes.”
“He screwed me sideways and dropped me right back at home without so much as a single word.” I took a bite of my fruit. “Which I wouldn’t have freaked out about, honestly. It’s not like I need a man to complicate things, but he wanted me out as soon as we were finished, like he didn’t want somebody to know that I was there.”
“You think he’s taken?”
“I think he’s married.” I checked the syrup again and turned down the heat, then walked back out into the lobby. The morning rush would be coming soon.
“Are you sure?” she asked from the kitchen.
“I think so.”
A man walked in wearing a black, pinstriped suit and a baby blue shirt. His blond hair was combed to a point in the front. “Hello.” He stopped in front of the counter to look at the menu.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“Not sure yet.”
“Just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be here.” When I turned around, I caught him looking at me out of the corner of my eye.
“Are you the owner?” he asked.
I turned back to him. “Yes.”
“And everything you make is from scratch?” He took a look around.
“That’s right.”
“Looks amazing.” He wasn’t looking at the food.
“Thanks.” I blushed.
“I think I’ll get a chocolate muffin and some coffee.”
“Comin’ right up.” He had the most adorable dimples when he smiled.
“I’ve got two tickets to the game tonight if you wanna come along.”
“I don’t even know your name.” I grabbed his muffin out of the case.
“Taylor.” He outstretched his hand and shook mine. When he pulled it away, something golden caught the light. It was a ring. He was married.
“I’m sorry.” I drew back. “I can’t.” I turned away to pour his coffee and brought it back to him.
“That’s okay.” He paid and left.
“What was that?” Chloe was leaning against the kitchen door behind me.
“A man with a ring on his finger who wanted to take me on a date.”
“Want me to run out and bludgeon him with a rolling pin?”
“No, we should let his wife get the first shot in.”
“Good point.”
“Come on. I’ve gotta get things going.” I pulled her in back so we could start making the rest of the croissant dough.
Chloe had her job for one very good reason. She knew what she was doing, and she was quick. She worked that dough like a professional, pounding it into the counter, kneading it, and spreading it around.
I watched, too upset with myself to do anything but mope around. She pretended like she didn’t notice, but I could tell by the way she kept looking up at me that she did. Fortunately, the customers were starting to come in, so I didn’t have to sit around for long.
Once the rush was over, I walked in the back. Chloe was setting the dough on cookie sheets to bake. “What if he isn’t married?” she asked.
“If he wanted me, he would’ve called me by now, but he didn’t. I’m going to walk away and get back to the things that really matter.”
“Did he have a ring?” Chloe pulled the cookie sheet off the counter and put it in the oven.
“No.”
“Did he have family pictures in his house?”
“No.” I sighed.
“Did you see any of her things?”
“No, but Chloe, you should’ve seen his house. It was immaculate, like something out of a fairy tale with marble floors and flowers. This wasn’t a man’s house.”
“Was it just the overall ambiance, or were there little things, like a personal touch? He might just have a good decorator.”
“Honestly, the only thing I’m certain of is that he didn’t want somebody to know that I was there. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have run me out so fast.” The bell rang, and I walked out.
“Yeah,” Chloe called out. “He’s probably married.”
I went pale. Archer was standing in front of the register, leaning in and smiling. “Married?”
“Wha—oh, no.”
“It’s okay. After the way I acted the other night, I can’t blame you for thinking so.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m the one who owes you an apology. I was a complete dick.”
“You’re single?” I asked.
“Yup, and I’m bored. When are we going out again?”
“I don’t know.” I wasn’t expecting that. “I’m off Friday.”
“That works for me. I don’t usually work on the weekends. You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“I was just confused is all. I don’t wanna be anyone’s mistress.”
“That’s not going to happen.” He reached out, grabbed me by the collar and kissed me. I had to brace myself against the counter. The room was spinning. He pulled back and caught my eye. “So sexy.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Hmm.” He stroked his chin, staring up at the menu. “What’s your favorite thing to make?” he asked.
“Cookies.”
“Why?”
“They’re like little flavor drops. You can experiment with them as much as you want, and they’re easy to make, so you can focus on the spices.”
“That’s why you have six different kinds,” he said.
“Yeah, probably.” I could feel the blood rushing into my face.
“Give me six dozen of each. We’ll share at the office, and put some of those business cards in each box. Let’s see if we can’t get you some customers.”
My mouth fell open. “Really?”
“Yup.”
“Oh my God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I pulled out cardboard carriers and filled them with cookies, distinctly aware of the fact that Chloe was peeking out every chance she got. “Here you go.” I handed him the boxes.
Mr. Beetle was standing outside leaning against the front door smoking a cigarette. Archer must’ve noticed me looking because he turned back to see him. “Is that the guy from the club?”
“Yeah, he’s a regular.”
“You want me to get rid of him or…”
“No, it’s okay. He’s harmless.”
“If you’re sure. I’ll give you a call soon.” Archer walked out. Mr. Beetle spat in his direction when he walked past.
“Don’t let him in here,” Chloe said.
“Chloe
Ferguson.” I whipped around to confront her. “You are by far the worst friend imaginable. What is wrong with you?”
“What?”
“He heard you say that I thought he was married.”
“But at least that’s cleared up, right? You don’t have to worry about whether or not you’re sneaking around behind his wife’s back.”
“You embarrassed the crap out of me.”
“All right, all right. I’m sorry.” She strode around the counter and walked up to the front door.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We’re closed until Mr. Beetle leaves.” She flipped the sign around and locked the door.
I sighed. “Chloe…”
“Look.” She pointed. He glared at Chloe and started walking away. “So easy.”
“I just lost money.”
Chloe shrugged. “I don’t want to deal with it.”
We went back to baking, mixing up scone batter, chocolate cookies, and cream cheese for pastry filling. Work went easier now that I had something to look forward to that didn’t involve baking or dishes. I started to think that maybe this was a good thing. It was too early to know how things would go, but I had hope and a lot of time to spend dreaming.
Chapter Thirteen
Archer
I woke up smiling and rested. The house was silent. When I got up to make my bed, I could see the boys on the TV screen, sleeping soundly. Abel had his face scrunched tight, and he was sucking on his little thumb. Andrew lay splayed out, over half my TV, taking deep breaths. I wanted to run in and grab them from the crib and show them the world, but I had to go to work. We were going to start testing Rick’s sensor prototype this morning, and I wanted to get there early so I could see how things panned out.
Mona was already in the nursery with the boys when I walked downstairs. I peeked my head in. “Good morning,” I whispered.
She walked out silently into the hall. “Did you drug them?” she asked.
“What are you talking about? No.”
“How come they’re not screaming their heads off?”
“Check them for track marks. I gotta go.”
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