Page 63 of Mad Love

I nod to the girl at the front desk. “I’m checking in.”

She gives a forced smile as I slide my credit card across the counter. Her eyes twitch at me several times, looking me up and down, but I don’t have time to care about whatever the hell her problem is right now.

“All right,” she mutters. “You’re all set. Room 526. Would you like one key or two?”

“Two, please.”

Her brows bounce as she lays two keycards on the counter with my credit card. “Enjoy your stay.”

I swipe them up and escape from the front desk to cross the lobby.

It’s a busy night tonight. The lobby is packed with groups of people lingering around, dressed for a good time. I probably would have done the same if circumstances were different but it’s difficult to hide a decent pistol in a mini skirt.

Not impossible, though.

I pause by a stack of magazines, quickly glancing around for prying eyes before sliding one of my keycards inside and leaving it behind on the table for Elijah.

My hand drifts behind me, instinctively searching for the gun stashed in my belt, as I walk into the hotel bar. I tap a toe to my other heel, feeling the knife stashed in my ankle holster, hidden from sight. I haven’t spoken to Archer since I agreed to meet him here at the hotel, but if my instincts are correct, then I’m sure I’ll find him exactly where he found me.

I look at the table in the corner and butterflies attack my gut.

Archer sits at the same booth with a bottle of the same crap beer he ordered before. His hair is clean and combed back but a few yellow strands tickle his forehead. He’s shaved, too. And that darned leather jacket is as sexy as ever over a freshly ironed dress shirt.

I take a moment, feeling the weight of the job on my shoulders and the eyes of my brothers on my back, before slowly stepping through the crowded bar.

Archer glances up, his eyes as drawn to me as mine are to his, and he smiles.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

My feet move on their own, taking trained and purposeful steps in his direction. Before I reach the table, his gaze falls to my toes and back up, lingering on my tight jeans and the deep V-neck of my red blouse.

“Hello, Lilah,” he says. The second syllable rolls off his tongue and tingles my spinal cord.

“Sorry if you’ve been waiting long.”

He shakes his head. “Just in time for happy hour.”

A waitress appears at my side with a glass of red wine on a tray. She sets the glass down with a smile and Archer gives her a wink.

“Have a drink with me,” he says, gesturing to the seat across from him.

I hesitate. The faster I get this over with, the better off we’ll all be. Frankly, I’m scared of what I’ll do if I stare too long into his wild, blue eyes.

I cave and sit down, sliding toward the center of the booth. It’s not my preferred place to be. I’d much rather sit with my back to the wall and my eyes on the entrance—

“You seem quiet,” he says.

“No, just…” I settle in and smile. “Just a long ride back here.”

“For a few minutes there, I thought you wouldn’t show.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“I imagine your brothers spent a good bit of time indoctrinating you against me.”

I chuckle. “They certainly did.”

“What made you come anyway?”

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