Page 20 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

Floor to ceiling windows span the entire back wall, offering the most breathtaking view of the small backyard and the walkway that leads straight out to the beach.

I continue down the stairs, padding barefoot straight to the sliding doors that open out onto a low wood deck. Expecting them to be locked, I am surprised when the doors open easily.

Hand poised on the handle, I look behind me, as if expecting someone to jump out and drag me back to my room.

Archer told me I wasn’t a prisoner here and for me tomake myself at home, but that eerie statement he made in the car still lingers in the back of my mind.

What exactly did he mean? And why did the thought of being chased by Archer…turn me on?No, definitely not. That was probably just the adrenaline wearing off.

When nothing happens and no one comes to stop me, I take a deep breath and step outside, inhaling the fresh salty air, my nose wrinkling when I catch the underlying hint of sulfur from the nearby marsh.

Off to the left, there is a large oak, branches laden with Spanish moss that drapes so low, it almost reaches the ground. I can’t help but think how it would be the perfect shade tree to sit under and read.

I stroll across the dew-covered grass, over the wooden boardwalk, until I finally sink my toes into the sun-warmed sand. Gentle waves crash against the shore as the ocean stretches as far as the eye can see.

The beach is deserted, and I remember him saying something about this land being secluded. A short walk confirms there are no other people or houses close by, the only signs of life are the gulls that bob on top of the water.

I plop my butt down in the sand, suddenly hit with a pang in my chest at the memory from the one and only time Jane ever took me to the beach.

It was right before her diagnosis. I must have been around seven or eight. She woke me up early one morning, and we drove out to the coast to watch the sunrise. It was still relatively dark out when we arrived, and we watched as the sky changed from deep denim blueand violet to bright pink and sun kissed orange. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

Those few quiet moments we shared by the ocean, just us two, is one of my most cherished memories. Never in my short life, had I felt such happiness before.

Today, however, as I sit alone on the shoreline, staring out into the large expanse of murky water, I feel small and lonely.

A cold breeze blows in off the water and I wrap my arms around myself to block out the chill as the sun disappears behind a cloud.

I don’t know how long I continue to sit there on the beach before I feel his presence. Looking over my shoulder, I see Archer walking towards me, and the air catches in my lungs. If I thought he looked good last night in that black suit, it was nothing compared to seeing him now in a pair of gray sweatpants and a fitted white t-shirt that clings to his muscular arms and chest.

Through the thin cotton, I can see the faintest hints of black ink that appear to cover his entire upper body, extending down both of his arms. I’ve never been a huge fan of tattoos, but on Archer, it works. He could definitely give one of my book boyfriends a run for their money.

He treks across the sand on his bare feet, and there is something about seeing a man with no shoes that feels wildly intimate. I imagine it’s how those men in my regency novels felt when the heroine bared her ankles for the first time.So scandalous.

He holds two mugs of what I pray is coffee. I desperately could use a caffeine fix right about now.

“I hoped I’d find you here,” he says, handing me one of the mugs. I take a tentative sip and am unable to hold back the little moan of pleasure as the taste of rich dark roast and caramel dance across my tongue.

I open my eyes to find Archer watching me. My ears grow hot as his dark, hooded eyes bore into mine over the rim of his own mug. I squirm under the intensity of his gaze before looking away. A bead of sweat rolls down my spine and suddenly, I wish I wasn’t wearing this thick sweatshirt anymore.

He clears his throat and takes a seat in the sand beside me.

“When I couldn’t find you in the house, I was hoping you hadn’t decided to run off and take your chances with the gators after all.”

“Oh…no.” I say, with a shake of my head. “I saw the view through the windows and thought it would be a quiet place to think.”

Honestly, I’m a little ashamed to admit that the idea of running didn’t even cross my mind. It probablyshouldhave been my first thought this morning.

I know I’m probably being stupid, but for some reason, I’m not scared of Archer. Does he unnerve me at times with his mercurial mood swings? Yes…but I’m not afraid of him.

“So, what were you thinking about?” he asks, and damn, if that isn’t a loaded question.

“Everything,” I say, unsure where to even begin. “I guess I’m trying to make sense of it all. I mean, not to make myself sound incredibly dull, but I don’t have anoverly exciting life. I work at a bookstore most days and then go home alone and read or I occasionally might watch TV. That’s about it. I can’t imagine anything I could have done to warrant someone wanting to hurt me.”

“What about friends, family?” he asks, and I wrack my brain, trying to think of anything significant, but I come up empty handed.

“Friends, no. I only have a few, and I can’t see them being involved in any way. Plus, I was out with them right before I was attacked.”

“They let you leave alone?” he asks, voice low and growly.

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