Page 17 of Gideon's Gratitude

She stepped away, and just as I began to speak, the chainsaw started up again.

Can I get no peace?

To my surprise, Archer stepped close. Really close. Too close.

He angled his head and leaned over until his mouth was mere inches away from my ear. “I owe you a lot more than a few dollars. I’m certain you can find a use for the money. Think of what you saved me from last night.” He pointed to the SUV.

My stomach dropped. Of course, the tree had fallen before he arrived on my doorstep, but the sentiment ricocheted through me.Just the implication was almost too much to bear. “I don’t need your money.” Said through gritted teeth.

“Perhaps. Keep it, give it away, do whatever you like. Whatever would make you happy.”

“What would make me happy is if you’d take it back.”

We were so close our faces almost brushed. Another inch and I’d be able to rub my cheek against his. Skin to skin with plenty of stubble since neither of us had shaved this morning. The man’s breath also smelled minty. As if he’d located a toothbrush or popped a mint. Fresh. Tempting. So damn tempting.

“I’m not taking it back. Find a good charity. This time of year, there are plenty to choose from. Or I’m sure you have a family member in need. We always have one of those.”

I did, of course. But Archer’s words implied he did as well. Before I could inquire further, the chainsaw stopped. I pulled back so abruptly my heel caught and I almost went down.

A strong hand to my elbow held me steady.

Oh my God, I can’t even stand upright.

I wanted to beg the universe to take pity on me, but that wasn’t likely. I was never that lucky.

Although I clearly had my legs beneath me, he maintained his grip. Our gazes met and held. Stunning dark-gray eyes mesmerized with their intensity. How easy would it be to give in to temptation?

Snap out of it.

Archer isn’t gay. Archer isn’t interested. Archer should run the other way so fast he’ll leave tread marks.

And yet, as our gazes held for another few heartbeats, my faith in those suppositions wavered.

“Let me take you to dinner. As a way of showing my appreciation.”

Words spoken loudly enough that anyone nearby could hear them. No one was within earshot, however, so the intimacy of our bubble remained intact.

I held up the cash. “I think this is enough appreciation.”

He shrugged. “So let me take you out to dinner so I’m not lonely tonight while I wait for my new SUV to arrive.”

“To arrive?”

“My dealership located one over on Vancouver Island. They’ve hired a driver to deliver it, but they’re not expected here until around nine this evening.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to meet them in Vancouver?”

Another careless shrug. “Perhaps, but then I’d have to acquire a ride to Vancouver, and it just seemed easiest to have the driver bring it here. I’ve secured a room at the local hotel for the evening.”

The very nice hotel, undoubtedly. Still affordable, but definitely catering to higher-end clientele.

What harm could come from this? One dinner. One meal out. One chance to feel like a normal human being instead of a hermit who barely leaves his house?

I considered.

He’s a divorce lawyer.

Right.

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