Page 61 of The Archer and his Rosebud

When I find Archer and Clementine at his desk as he types away with one hand and holds her with the other, I stop in my tracks. This man who’s known us for months is more self-sacrificing and kind than the guy who contributed to her genes.

I was going to wait to tell Archer, but the moment he sees me, I can’t hold it in. The guilt eats at me. “I have to tell you something.” I drop my keys and phone on his kitchen counter. “I didn’t have to meet with my advisor before work today. I saw Ty.”

Archer stills, his stare raking over me like he just realized this is why I did my hair and makeup. “You met up with him? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was always going to tell you. I just didn’t want your opinions to cloud my mind before I spoke to him and had time to process everything. It’s a lot, and I still don’t know what I’m feeling.”

Archer lifts Clem from his lap and holds her close to his chest as he spins his chair to face me. “And how did it go?”

“Disastrous. He wants to meet her.”

He nods, his hand on her back spreading like his grip will protect her from Ty, and hesitantly asks, “And what did you say?”

“That I’m not ready.” I drag my fingers through my hair and pace in circles. “He was such a jackass. Between bouts of apologies, there was an undertone of passive aggression, this entitlement because Clem shares his DNA. It took every ounce of self-control not to slap him silly.” I stop and spin around. “My God. What if he tries to gain custody of her?”

“Then you’ll fight him.” A ruffle forms between Archer’s eyebrows. “He doesn’t deserve to know Clem.”

“I just… What if keeping her from him only causes more damage? What if she resents me down the line because I didn’t let him into our lives? What if he really does want to step up and rectify his mistakes?”

Standing, Archer closes the distance between us and slips his free hand beneath the base of my skull, tilting my head to look at him. “You trust your gut, Will. You’re her mom. Sometimes absentee parents deserve a second chance. Sometimes they don’t.”

I nod and take a deep breath, composing myself.

He presses a kiss on my forehead. “I know I’m not your keeper, but I really wish you would’ve told me.”

“Why, so you could’ve crashed and doled out the punch I wanted to?” I laugh.

Pulling back, his mouth quirks. “That, but also, I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me. If you need me to be Switzerland, I’ll bite my tongue, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t trust me. Seeing him had to be difficult. I want to support you in all things, Willa.”

“Why would you have to bite your tongue?”

“Because I don’t want that bastard anywhere near this baby girl. He lost the right when he told you to get an abortion, but I’m not her father, and I don’t get a say.”

I swallow. How sad is it that a man I met not five months ago is more of a father figure to Clem than her actual dad? I shake my head. No, I can’t think like that. Thinking like that sparks long-term thoughts of Archer, and I can’t place those expectations on him.

Archer draws his fingers around my neck, twirling a lock of my hair around his fingers. “So, that fluttery top and skin-tight jeans you left here wearing was your eat-your-heart-out revenge outfit, huh?”

I chuckle. “No, that was my I’m-a-new-mom-but-I’m-capable-of-taking-care-of-myself outfit.” And maybe a little hallelujah that I could fit into my jeans again, even if I did have to hold my breath for the majority of time they were on.

He bends and rests his mouth on mine, saying, “It was a good look on you,” before kissing me in a way that would be inappropriate if Clem knew what was going on.

* * *

ARCHER

Willa’s stressover Ty trying to weasel his way into Clementine’s life is tempered only by the surprise of seeing her mom and Devin for Thanksgiving. She’s humming with excitement as we wait for her family with a million other eager families in the airport’s baggage claim Wednesday afternoon.

I swoop down and pick up the brown leather shoe Clem’s kicked off. “Hey, Monkey, want to keep these on?” I step in front of a pacing and clueless Willa. “Those tights make these things fall off at the slightest movement.”

“Again?” Willa frowns. “I bought them a size big so they’d fit longer, but I guess if she can’t wear them, that was a dumb idea.”

I tweak Clem’s knit-covered toes before shimmying the fancy shoe back over her chubby little foot. “Nah, they’re cute as hell. She just needs her momma to stop wearing a landing strip on the flooring and chill out.”

Her eyes turn to liquid gold. “That bad, huh?”

“Awe, come here.” I drag her and Clem into my arms. “You’re an adorable mess of emotions right now, Rosebud.”

“I’m blaming pregnancy hormones.” She sniffles into my chest. “They say it takes up to six months for everything to level off.”

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