Page 54 of A Little Broken

“Apparently,” I scoff. “Since your first husband was named Archer, right?”

With a glare cutting straight to my fucking bones, she warns, “Don’t say that name.”

I pull back, surprised by the animosity when she has no right to be pissed. Not at me. And not for this. Even so, I’m not completely heartless and with the look in those pretty hazel eyes? I’d have to be to not back off.

Lifting my hands in surrender, I mutter, “All right. Archer equals touchy subject. Noted.” I lower my hands, scrutinizing her. Maybe she is telling the truth because it’s clear this guy isn’t made up like I initially assumed. Or maybe I’m wrong. Again. Why is this girl so damn hard to read? She lied to me. Multiple fucking times, and I’m tired of letting her get away with it all because she has a pretty face. I crowd her even more, commanding her full attention. “Doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to fall for the same lie twice.”

She gives up on her little sand project and folds her arms. “You know, you almost had me fooled.”

“How so?”

“I told you not to chase me.”

I step toward her. She retreats, mirroring my movements as we slowly move away from the bonfire toward the base of the rocky cliffs not too far away. “This was an innocent run-in. Though, I’m pretty sure the last time you looked at me, the daggers were missing.”

“Last time, I’d just had a couple solid orgasms.”

“I’m happy to give you a few more, if you’re interested.”

“Aaaand, there he is.” She scowls up at me. “As selfless as the last time we talked.”

“Always.” We move past a few more stragglers, but I doubt she notices. She’s too focused on me. This conversation. And whether or not I’ll let it go. Her lies. Her body. The mind-fuck she’s put me through foryears.

Not a chance.

“Why’d you lie to me, Tatum?”

Eyes round and innocent, she murmurs, “Who said I lied?”

“You really gonna play this game?” I grab her wrist and she screeches to a halt. Ignoring the heat licking at my palm from a simple touch, I bring her left hand between us, demanding, “Where’s the ring?”

Not even bothering to look at her naked ring finger, she answers, “In my hotel room.”

Bullshit.

I tug her into me, my need to be right battling with my need to kiss her just to see if she tastes as sweet as I remember. As sweet as I’ve reimagined more times than I can count, though I’d never admit it aloud. Moving even closer, I growl, “Not ready to surrender, Birthday Girl?”

“There’s nothing to surrender to.” Her hand presses against my chest, stopping my pursuit. “And even if there was, I’m not interested.”

“Again with the lies,” I tsk. “If you weren’t interested, you would’ve left with yourhusband,” I seethe through gritted teeth.“Funny how you’ve never talked about him on your social media.”

Her gaze narrows. “Have you been keeping tabs on me?”

Yes.

This is also something that happens more than I’d like to admit, if I’m being honest with myself, let alone to the girl in front of me. But if I let her in on my little secret, she’ll probably slap me before running in the opposite direction. Finally standing in front of her after all these years, the idea of her slipping away a second time is more than I can stomach. It’s not like I love her or some shit, but it’s clear we aren’t through. Not yet. Not when she’s been fucking with my mind for so long, only to confirm what a small part of me always knew. She’s not married. She was never married.

“Seems I’m not the only liar,” she seethes.

The fire in her gaze damn near burns me up on the spot, and I fight my smile. “You can put the claws away, Birthday Girl.” I let her arm go. “I didn’t go back on my promise.”

“Yet, here you are.”

“Here I am.” I spread my arms wide.

She takes another step back before realizing the black rock wall is behind her and she has nowhere to run. Not anymore.

With a smirk, I add, “Now, what am I going to do with you?”

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