Page 29 of More Than an Ex-Girlfriend

“Listen to me. Life isn’t fair. We both learned that a long time ago. But if you think I’m going to stand by and be quiet while your mom wreaks havoc on your life or, even worse, tries to drag you back home, you are wrong. Very, very wrong.”

Nodding, she blinks, and I release her face.

“She mentioned something about needing me to sign over something. So it does sound like she’s cooking up something.”

“You need to lock down your credit.” I wouldn’t put anything beyond Lettie’s mom. And my brain is spinning, thinking of any and every way that woman could harm Lettie physically or financially. “You’re sure she didn’t see you?”

“Positive. I was parked behind the building like always, but she might’ve seen my car. It was so much easier hiding from someone who wasn’t looking for me.” She sighs. Then her eyes widen. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did you hide? Is that something you can tell me?” I hold my breath, hoping she’ll trust me with at least that.

“I was afraid that you’d react like you did in the donut shop. I know I hurt you, and I wish I could take it all back. A lot has changed, and I don’t have a time machine. But I shouldn’t have avoided you. I just...” She shrugs, regret etched on her face.

“You were just avoiding conflict.”

Lips pinched, she nods. “It’s like you know me.”

“And I won’t pressure you to tell me why you broke things off, but can you please tell me if it was something I did?”

She wags her head back and forth. “It wasn’t anything like that, and there wasn’t anyone else. Not while we were dating... or since.”

Nothing about this makes sense, but I said I wouldn’t pressure, and I intend to keep my word.

There are several beats of quiet. I won’t tell her that there’s been no one else for me either. It’s not like I didn’t try, but striking up that conversation will probably lead to a conversation about chatting online. And I’m not ready to reveal that yet. Besides, she hasn’t sent any messages since her deleted one. She clearly doesn’t like Crocheting-Cowboy as much as she likes me, which is weird even thinking.

One of us has to break the silence. “Want to brew some tea while I go back to finding a shirt? I think there are a few cookies left. I haven’t yet finished all six dozen.”

Her gaze drops to my chest, and she smiles. “Tea. Yeah. I’ll get right on that.”

Her line about me being an incredibly hot man pops in my head, and I temper my grin as I dig through the laundry, hunting my favorite T-shirt.

Lettie does have a way of stroking my ego, and I can’t say I mind much. Or at all.

CHAPTER11

LETTIE

When I walk out my front door the next morning, Archer is waiting. He holds out a Styrofoam cup.

“When I moved over here, I got myself a small coffee pot. And at this time of the morning, coffee seems necessary.” He takes a sip of his. “I’m on my second cup.”

“Thanks. You really don’t have to drive me to work.” I taste my coffee and smile. It’s sweet. Leave it to Archer to remember how I like it.

“If your car isn’t there, your mom can’t see it.” He sets his cowboy hat on his head, and I manage to restrain my sigh.

Does he have any idea how good he looks? I might be biased—probably am—but to me, he’s the best-looking guy in the world. And last night when he didn’t have a shirt on, focusing on his face took determination. He’s filled out and is completely hot.

I’m trying not to get my hopes up about there ever being an us again. But at the same time, I’m relishing having him back in my life even just as a friend. It’s scary how easy it’s been to pick up where the friendship left off. When he didn’t rush to hide his scars, it gave me a tiny spark of hope. I thought I ruined everything with the breakup, but a small bit of trust remains, and I’m hoping to build on that.

He takes a step, and I touch his arm.

“Why are you doing this? Why, after I broke up with you and then hid from you, are you still even speaking to me?” I should just be grateful things are good and not ask this question, but I need to know.

Stalling, he sips his coffee. “Lettie, I’ve spent the last few years angry and hurt. And when I saw you in that donut shop, it all flooded over me—years of it all in one moment. Then seeing you sobbing was just too much.” He sucks in a deep breath, then blows it out. “But you were there for me during the hardest part of my life. And seeing you again just proves that I can’t harbor that kind of resentment toward you. I just can’t. We’ll never be what we were before, but I care about you. And it’ll be a snow day in August before I let your mom hurt you again.” He marches to his truck.

I blink. I’m not sure if I want to cry because of the never part or hug him for being so protective.

He has the truck running by the time I climb in, and I wait until we’re on the main road before telling him about the messages my mom sent last night. I hadn’t planned to tell him, but after that little speech, I’m not keeping that information to myself. “So she sent more texts last night, and she called, but I didn’t answer. But when she left a voicemail, I heard her boyfriend Wes in the background, feeding her stuff to say.” I cross my arms, trying not to show that even talking about Wes bothers me. “And he’s bad news.”

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