The signal isn’t good, and I can only make out disjointed words. “...sorry. But... disappoint you.” Everything goes quiet, and I glance at the screen to see if the call is still connected. Then he’s back. “I hope you understand.” And the call drops.
I didn’t understand the reason why, but it sounds to me like Anderson will not be at my door in twenty minutes.
Almost like the world has to rub salt in my wounds, the shower comes on next door. Archer is getting cleaned up to spend a quiet night busy with chores.
Crocheting-Cowboy has only been sending short replies when I message, and maybe he’s tired of me. But that doesn’t stop me from opening the app. Ignoring all the brain cells screaming that it’s a horrible idea to send a picture and not caring how desperate for a compliment it makes me look, I take a photo in the mirror. After covering my head with a happy face, I send the photo to him.
Regretful-Raccoon: My best friend is getting married, and I’m all dressed up, which is kind of fun. I hope things get better for you and you are more than just okay soon.
Aside from moving here, sending him my picture might be the bravest or stupidest thing I’ve ever done. And I toss my phone on the table so that I don’t delete it. The worst that can happen is he’ll ignore it completely.
Since I’m not waiting on anyone, I should probably just drive over early. But that’ll be five more minutes of Layla asking why Anderson didn’t come.
And I don’t have any answers.
At the designated pickup time, I hook my purse on my arm and walk out the front door. Then I stop because my phone is still where I left it, and I want it with me.
I unlock my door and go back to my bedroom. My phone lights up as I approach, and I smile at the message.
Crocheting-Cowboy: Stunning. I wish the happy face wasn’t blocking the view.
Regretful-Raccoon: Then anonymity would be wiped out.
There’s a knock at my front door, and I focus on not twisting my ankle as I walk. It’s been a while since I’ve worn heels this tall. Perhaps my assumptions about Anderson’s call were wrong. I guess he was warning me he’d be late instead of apologizing for not showing.
The door swings open, and my heart does a little dance, then stops.
Archer is at the door, dressed in a dark suit. “I got my chores done early, and Anderson’s sister was in an accident. Did he call you?”
Nodding, I admire my cowboy, or more accurately the man I wish were mine. “The connection was bad, and I didn’t understand anything he said.”
“You look stunning, Lettie. Simply incredible.” He holds out his hand. “I’d like to be your date for the evening if that’s okay with you.”
As much as I want Archer to be my date, knowing he’s only doing it because Anderson can’t be here makes me want to decline his offer. But the man is in a suit. And he smells like leather and moonlight. Until this moment, I never considered the scent of moonlight, but this is it.
“I don’t... if you don’t want...”
He steps closer and links his fingers with mine. “I want to. We’re friends. I shouldn’t have said no to begin with.”
Friends. I was so happy with that word only weeks ago. But now it’s a rain shower on my hope parade.
“Okay.” I squeeze his hand. “Thanks for saving me from being alone tonight. I owe you one.”
“No. You don’t owe me anything, Lettie.” He keeps hold of my hand until we’re to his truck. “I didn’t have time to run it through a car wash, so be careful not to brush against it.”
Archer doesn’t let go of my hand until I’m in the seat.
While he walks around to the driver’s side, I shift, trying to figure out how I can sit without showing off my entire leg.
He climbs behind the wheel. “Where are we headed? Anderson didn’t tell me that part.”
“The winery across the road from the goat farm.” That description would sound crazy to someone not familiar with the area, but he nods as he shifts into gear.
* * *
Layla pulls me aside.“Archer came! This is what I was hoping would happen.” She glances over her shoulder and waves at Nico.
“You didn’t arrange to have someone smash into Anderson’s sister, did you?” I know she didn’t, but I can’t resist the tease.