Page 51 of The Archer and his Rosebud

“I’m thinking I don’t want to be another Leah to you.”

That I don’t expect.

She lifts a finger when my mouth parts. “No, hear me out. I’d be lying if I told you I know what I want, Archer. I need this degree. I want to be able to provide a future for myself and Clem, and I can’t do it all online. Plus, there’s daycare and rent, and…” She tosses her hand in the air. “There’s a lot to consider.”

“You know I love watching her. I can help.”

“So, you end up getting no sleep ever?” Her eyes narrow when I consider arguing. “You fall asleep on me four out of seven nights as it is, and that’s with you keeping her only a few hours a week. I know you’re working long after we leave your place to stay on top of your business because you miss too much work watching her during the day. That’s not fair to you.”

“I’m a bit of an insomniac, Will. That’s not all because of Clem or my being behind with clients.”

She shakes her head. “No matter how attracted to you I am, no matter how much I want you… I can’t hurt you with my indecision.”

Scanning her flushed face, I wait for the “but” that doesn’t come.

“See.” I tip my beer and swallow. “Five years more mature, maybe ten.”

“Or maybe I’m just stupid. I must be to consider turning you down.”

My head snaps back. “Are you turning me down?” A hundred thoughts flash in her eyes, but she doesn’t speak one. “You just finished telling me you want me, Willa Rose. You made your feelings clear, and that’s all I needed to know.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I don’t want to hurt you, and I have a lot of decisions to make?” she asks under furrowed brows.

My reply is thwarted by the arrival of our meals. Stretching my legs out beneath the table, I trap Willa’s foot, keeping her gaze locked with mine until our waiter leaves us alone once more.

“That was your way of saying you need time. I can give us some time, Willa. I’m not an impatient man, especially when something is worth it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Not yet.

ChapterSeventeen

WILLA

After wishingme sweet dreams at my front door, the warmth of Archer’s hand leaves mine and suddenly I can’t ask for things quick enough.

“Archer?” I stop his easy stroll to his place. He turns, his thick shoulders stretching the fabric of his button-up, making my mouth go dry. “If we start something…can we keep this casual?” Setting Clem’s carrier in my open doorway, I continue with a low voice, careful not to wake her. “I want something with you, I do. But with the uncertainty…I think getting physical…”

Slipping a hand into his pant pocket, Archer stalks the short hallway back to me. His chest inches from mine. “We’ve had something for a while now, you know that, right?”

Have we? Yes, of course, we have. We’re a family who doesn’t live together. Like all those sitcoms where the friends and neighbors walk right into each other’s homes and make themselves comfortable. I never understood how that was something people did—Joey letting himself into Monica and Rachel’s apartment and raiding their refrigerator—until Archer.

I touch his chest. “With all the put-together capable women in this town, how do you know I’m what you need?”

His heart keeps a steady rhythm beneath my palm. “Call it a hunch.”

“There are ten years between us.”

He presses closer. “Nine.”

“And that doesn’t scare you?”

“You’re not a child.” My scowl backs him up. “Fine. You’re right, maybe the girl you were a year ago would have been too young for me, but the woman I met—the scared mother, the responsible student, the dance teacher, the friend—that Willa, isn’t any different than me. She’s just another person trying to figure out life and find her way to happiness. I might be a few years ahead of you, but I’m still looking for the same things. We have the same goals. Who says we can’t reach them together?”

“You say all the right things.”

Lifting his hand to my face, Archer smooths my hair back and presses his lips to my forehead. “They’re not just words. Someday you’ll believe that, and until you do, we continue on the way we have. I’m willing to wait.”

That was three nights ago,and to his credit, nothing has changed. Scratch that, nothingmuchhas changed. His hugs are longer, his grip exploring and tighter. His hand seeks mine more. My heart beats a little harder when he walks through my door. We’re still Willa and Archer, a mom and her babysitter. Friends and neighbors. But we’re also a degree or twomore.

---