Page 9 of The Archer and his Rosebud

“Willa Rose Hawthorne,” he murmurs. “Are you sure you’re from Michigan?”

Another laugh falls from my lips. “Born and raised. My mom was obsessed with Steel Magnolias and wished she was a southern belle.”

“It’s all coming together.”

With Archer’s help, something that’s been taking me twice as long, takes a few minutes to get Clem fresh and clean.

“I’ll grab you a towel. Bathroom, I assume?”

“Yeah, there’s a shelf above the toilet.”

As I hold her above the sink, Archer wraps the towel around Clem, helping to settle her in my arms like a baby burrito. When I face him, his right shoulder is smeared with the aftermath of Clem’s bowels.

“Oh no. Leave your shirt and I can wash it for you.”

“I’m not letting you wash my clothes.” Archer combs his fingers through his hair. “It’s okay.”

“But I have to do something. You’ve helped me so much, and you shouldn’t have had to do anything. This was supposed to be me thanking you with dinner and instead turned into a poop fiasco and you bathing my baby.”

“Willa.” His hand grips my arm, a slight upturn to the edges of his mouth. “Take a breath. You don’t owe me anything, all right? Not everything is tit for tat. Just accept my help without feeling indebted. Please.”

Cue the waterworks. And the rooting at my chest. “Um, I should get her dressed and fed.”

“Yeah, of course.” Archer reaches around my shoulder and grabs the list I have stuck to the refrigerator. “Why don’t you let me snag these things for you when I go to the store tomorrow.”

“Archer.”

“What?” He chuckles. “Eli and Nolan will be at my place for a few days, so I have to go grocery shopping. I might as well pick up a few things for you while I’m at it.”

I wipe my hand across my makeup-less face. When was the last time I even put on chapstick?

“Look. I can tell it’s hard for you to accept help. Especially from someone you don’t know.” His head bends to meet my eyes. “I don’t want to be pushy, but I won’t take no for an answer. Just say thank you, Archer. I’d appreciate that.”

I snort a laugh. “Okay. Thank you.” Archer lifts his brows and I finish, “I’d appreciate that.”

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He steps into the hallway, then turns back. “By the way, I don’t know whathelooks like, but that sweet girl has her momma’s button nose.”

Oh, my heart.

My smile falls when the door shuts. It’s hard seeing Archer go. Not because I’m crushing on him and want him to stay—though it’s impossible to ignore his gorgeous face—but because he showed me a glimpse of what it would be like to have a partner, to not do this alone. When it’s nothing but a crying Clem and me, the silence that was comforting is consuming.

Damn you, Ty and your selfish, worthless ass.

ChapterFour

ARCHER

“Apples? You never eat apples.”Eli scrunches his nose like the Red Delicious are as offensive as peas.

“I eat apples.” I maneuver him out of my way, reaching for the oranges.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t eat oranges either.” My little doppelgänger trails behind, watching my every move. “You eat grapes, peaches, and blueberries.”

“Wow, are you the grocery police?” I tease the messy curls on his head. “What else do I eat, oh wise one?”

“Not all those.” He points to the vegetables I’ve picked out for Willa piled in the cart’s seat.

I stop in the middle of the aisle. “I know I spoil you two when you’re at my house, but I make you salads for every dinner.” A waste since they take the required three bites and quit.

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