Page 14 of More Than an Ex-Girlfriend

Regretful-Raccoon: Toffee. Someone I know really likes them. And I like them too, of course. But he’s the reason I’m making them.

It’s an hour before he responds.

Crocheting-Cowboy: I hope your cookies turn out great.

I continue baking for the rest of the night.

Fifteen minutes before people are set to arrive to help me, I pack the cookies into containers. I have several dozen for the guys helping and another container set aside for Archer. Hopefully six dozen cookies are enough of a peace offering.

I look like I’ve been dragged by a truck over a dirt road. Except the dust is flour. I wash my face and tie my hair into a messy bun. Some women have a knack for twisting their hair into a perfectly tousled knot. Sadly, I lack that talent. My messy bun looks like rats moved in and created a nest atop my head. But that’s not fixable right now.

My only goal for the next few hours is to get everything loaded and unloaded. I just need to stay upright until all my stuff is moved. Then I can collapse.

Wait. That’s not true. After the move, I need to come back here and clean, which will take even longer than I anticipated because I made a complete mess of the kitchen. Dang it. Why do I make life harder on myself?

I take a deep breath when someone knocks. There is zero chance it’s Archer, but I’m still nervous.

Dag grins when I open the door. “The muscle is here. And Goldie too.” He leans in and pretends to whisper, but he’s looking over his shoulder at her the whole time. “She’s stronger than she looks.”

Layla updated me on Dag’s relationship with Goldie, and they’re just as cute in person as they are in the stories I’ve heard.

I tuck a few stray hairs behind my ear. “I appreciate the help. So much.”

“Of course. Tyler and Dallas will be here soon. I think we can handle it. The other guys were... busy.”

Goldie, who I am just meeting for the first time, walks up and extends her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Goldie.”

I’ve heard all about her. And she’s just as nice as people described.

Dag bumps her shoulder. “This may surprise you, but I think I made things awkward. I said the other guys were busy, but she totally knows they’re helping you-know-who.” He looks from Goldie to me. “Sorry.”

Goldie shakes her head, an amused smile on her lips. “Dag—”

I wave off his apology. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad people are helping Archer move. Really.”

“Oh, good.” He grins. “And just so you know. He acts like he hates you, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. But that’s just me spouting off.”

Goldie jabs him in the ribs.

“What? I’m just making conversation.” He shrugs. “Plus, she needs to know. Because I didn’t. Until I did. And I’m not talking about Archer.”

Goldie loops her arms around his. “I know what you mean, sweetheart.”

Nico and Layla pull up, and I wave. Now we can get started actually moving. Right now, standing still is a dangerous idea. If I fall asleep while upright, I’ll definitely break some part of me when I fall over. And a broken heart is bad enough.

Thanks to all the alone time I’ve had, all my boxes are labeled. The first few are labeled with what’s inside. But after that, I just wrote the room where the box should go.

Goldie nods to the three kitchen boxes I tore open last night. “Want me to repack those?”

“I have to clean the pans and dishes first. It was dumb, but last night I decided to bake cookies.”

Dag shakes his head. “Cookies aren’t dumb. Ever.”

Layla laughs and beelines to the kitchen. “I’ll clean everything, and Goldie can help me pack it all back up.”

Soon, they’re all busy cleaning and moving boxes, and I’m trying my best to be helpful and not be in the way.

By the time the trucks are loaded and we’re headed to the new place, my exhaustion is gone, replaced with a mix of terror and anticipation.

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