Page 48 of The Archer and his Rosebud

I shouldn’t be this on edge. It’sArcher. The man who’s seen me covered in spit up and rocking greasy hair, who’s held my hair while I puked and held me when I’m a sobbing mess. The man who has insisted on holding the pieces of me together for months. But that’s exactly why I’m so anxious. I stood in front of the mirror in my bathroom getting ready with an entirely different mindset. I spent more time curling my hair, and contouring my make-up. And I’ve been stressing about what to wear since he sprung this date on me. There’s no go-to leggings and baggy sweatshirt for a night in. It’s a struggle to fit into my old jeans, so I had to settle on maternity jeans with a white top and a slate denim shirt jacket. I haven’t stressed this much about getting ready since before Ty broke up with me. And if I’m being honest, maybe never, because Archer isn’t some stupid guy. This is real. This has potential to be something big.

We’ve had our moments, I won’t pretend to be oblivious, but I didn’t actually believe Archer would act on the shameless flirting, that I was someone he wanted to explore more with. I mean, look at me. I’m doing better, but I’m still a lot to handle at the moment. And while our age difference goes away when we’re sitting around our apartments playing with Clem or making dinner, we’re still in two different walks of life. How will we mesh when we’re away from what brought us together in the first place?

My eyes drift to him, one hand on the steering wheel, the other relaxed on his jean-clad thigh. The sides of his hair are trimmed shorter, tapered, the wavy tangle of curls on top not as long as yesterday.Did he get a haircut?His stare shielded behind Ray-Bans swivels to me and one side of his mouth slants up as he slides the sunglasses on top of his head, his eyes shining bluer than blue in the golden hour light. A herd of elephants stampedes through my stomach like I’m an African Savanna.

“You ready?” He shuts off the ignition.

Right.Get out of the car, Willa.“Yeah.”

When I round the front of Archer’s Expedition with the diaper bag slung over my shoulder and the car seat hooked on my elbow, he stops me.

“Let me take these.” As I thank him, he slips the bag over one shoulder and holds the carrier in his other hand. So natural, so Archer. He follows me up the front steps of the modern colonial style house to the wrap-around porch and full-glass front door. As my fist lifts to knock, Cora comes running and swings the door wide.

“Clem is here!” she hollers over her shoulder before bending to peek inside the car seat.

“I see how it is. I have a baby, and suddenly I become obsolete.”

At the announcement of our arrival, the patter of someone jogging down the stairs echoes in their entryway, and Ruby turns a corner with a bright smile. “Willa,” she says, “and you must be Archer.”

Nova rounds the banister of the staircase, hopping off the last step and comes to a screeching halt, clamping onto the post. Her stunned stare is latched onto the man to my left, and I can’t help smiling to myself.

Ruby holds out her hand for Archer to shake, and even though we have no familial relation, it feels like I’m introducing him to my parents.

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Her deep brown stare drifts to me with a secret smile as she reaches for Archer’s shoulder. “I can take the diaper bag.”

Brett rounds the same corner Ruby did with a reserved smile, walking the entry hall and stopping next to his wife as he glances around Cora crowding Clem. “It’s about time I get to meet this pretty girl Nova and Cora won’t stop talking about.” He pats my shoulder. “Good to see you, Willa.”

“You, too.” I get why Ruby fell in love with him. Brett’s old enough to be my dad, but one smile and the man turns me into a blushing school girl.

My eyes fall on the long entryway console filled with their family pictures, stopping on a young Brett and Ruby, eighteen or nineteen maybe, sitting on the beach. It’s taken the old-fashion selfie way before cell phones, their faces squished together, Ruby between his legs, against Brett’s chest, and she’s holding a paper airplane. I could listen to their story over and over. After everything, they’re the reason I can believe in love.

“Cool board.” Archer pulls my attention from looking at their picture to the black and white snowboard hanging on a wall across the open room. “Y’all must be big into winter sports?”

Brett looks Archer up and down, his brow curved high, which draws Cora and Nova’s laughter. When Archer’s jaw flinches and his spine stiffens, I realize I should have told him a little more about the Pratt family. Then Brett shoots me a wink and Archer loosens up. For all their successes, the Pratt’s are the furthest thing from stuck-up

“You could say that.” Ruby nudges Brett with a smile. “My husband is happiest on a board: skate, surf, snow, you name it, he’s riding it.”

“My dad’s an artist.” Crew, Ruby’s twin in the form of an eight-year-old boy, appears out of nowhere munching on a bowl of popcorn. “He drew that.”

By the look on his face, I’d say Archer’s impressed.

Brett’s palm lands on Crew’s auburn head, steering him into his dad’s side. “I work for Burton. That was a special board I designed the artwork for.”

“Special board,” Cora mumbles. “He’s so humble. He designed that for the X-Games.”

Shooting a wink at Cora, Brett snags a handful of popcorn and turns back to Archer. “I heard you run your own business? Web development?”

Blue eyes find my gaze as if to sayyou been talking about me, Will?“I do. I wanted to stay flexible, and available to my boys.”

“Our son Myles is into computers. He’s like his mom and researches everything. Made us buy him the parts to build his own PC last Christmas. I’m clueless about it. Guess I know where to send him when he starts talking code.”

“Willa’s got my number. Send him my way.”

As Nova unbuckles Clem from her carrier, Ruby waves us out, reaching for the front door. “Well, you two crazy kids get out of here.”

I hesitate. “Everything you need is in the diaper bag.” Archer steps onto the front porch, and I should follow, but I can’t convince my feet to move, my gaze fixated on Clem. “There should be plenty of formula and diapers. I fed and changed her before we left, so she should be good for a couple of hours.”

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