Page 75 of The Archer and his Rosebud

“I’m bummed this is our last weekend off together,” I admit during a commercial break.

Willa rolls to her back, and my fingertips are drawn to the loosened buttons on the neckline of her red and cream striped pajamas, stretched tight across her chest. “We don’t have to go to the New Year party tomorrow night. We could stay in and make it a big deal with the boys and Clem. Play some games, stay up late.”

“Do you not want to go?” I made plans for us to attend Hotel Vermont’s New Year’s Eve Bash weeks ago. I booked a room and scheduled Nova to babysit and spend the night at the house—something I haven’t shared with Willa. I was looking forward to dressing up and taking my girl dancing before toasting the new year, then having an entire night with her alone.

“No, it’s not that…but if you’d rather spend the time with the boys—”

“I wouldn’t have bought tickets if I didn’t want to take you.” I trace my finger down the column of her exposed breastbone. “My suit is ready. You bought a dress you won’t let me see. Nova can drink sparkling grape juice with the boys and play games all night. I want you to myself.”

Willa curls her hand behind my head. “Well, I guess if you really want to go.”

My mouth hits hers as my hand disappears beneath the tempting opening of her top, and I murmur, “I insist.”

* * *

WILLA

I wasasleep when the clock struck midnight last year. The exhaustion of my first trimester and the stress of dealing with Ty knocked me out before 10 p.m. It’s hard to fathom a year has gone by. I never expected to be where I am. To have a man who wasn’t Ty in my life and feel so deeply for him, for what we could be. I secure the last wayward strand of hair under the twisted bun sitting at my nape, then tug a few face-framing strands loose to curl. Archer left me to get ready for tonight in his suite while he showered and dressed in the main level guest bathroom.

As I wait for my curling iron to finish heating, I glance around at my things strewn about the counter, my burgundy one-shoulder sheath dress hanging on a hook over the closet door. I’ve made myself at home. And it feels like home. So much so that I dread returning to my tiny apartment with Clem tomorrow. Archer keeps trying to convince me to stay with him until my classes start back up, but the longer I remain here, the harder it will be to leave. As if it can get much harder than it’s already going to be.

“Knock, knock,”Nova’s voice filters through the bedroom into the bathroom where I scrutinize every detail. “Can Clem and I come in?”

Certain I look the best I’m going to tonight, I exit the bathroom. “Of course, you can.”

Nova inhales a sharp breath. “Oh, my gosh, Willa.” She hurries my way, gushing, “You look amazing. I love that dress and the smokey eyes. Clem, look at your mommy.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “To be honest, the smokey look is what happens when you try doing winged liner and suck at it. It isn’t too much?”

“Girl, you will knock Archer on his…a-s-s,” she whispers. “I’m so jealous.”

“Jealous?” I slide into my nude heels and bend to buckle the ankle clasps.

“That you’re going to a fancy party with that hot man on your arm, yeah I am.” She bounces Clem on her hip. “I can’t wait until I’m twenty-one and I get to go out and have fun.”

Adjusting the ruching at my waist, I walk over and stain Clem’s cheek with my deep red lips before tugging Nova’s braid. “Don’t rush toward twenty-one. There’s a lot of fun to be had between now and then.”

The first timeI met Archer Thomas, he stood in his doorway wearing basketball shorts and a tee, and his relaxed curls were a little too long, his jaw stubbled with at least three days’ growth, and his blue eyes were wide with shock. Tonight, when I step out of his bedroom and into his eyeline, he’s wearing a black suit and tie, his curls are gelled and smoothed, and his jaw is stubbled as always, but only mildly so. But his eyes are the same shocked eyes he pinned on me in July.

I fight the urge to chew the lipstick from my lips while he stares. “Where is everyone?” I ask when he doesn’t seem to be capable of words.

Finally, he blinks. “Nova wrangled them to the gameroom. I’m guessing she knew we’d want a moment.”

“Smart girl.” I think back to how she called him hot a few minutes ago. She wasn’t lying. “You make a woman blush just looking at you, Arrow. You’re beautiful.”

A little huff releases from his lips as he moves my way. “I’m beautiful? You are stunning, Willa Rose Hawthorne. I don’t care if you’re wearing spit up or silk. You will always be the most captivating woman in any room you enter as far as I’m concerned.” The polished toes of his black dress shoes touch the tips of mine, and he lifts his hand to run his knuckles down my arm. “You’re ravishing in burgundy.”

Holding onto my composure by a thread, I cock my head. “Are we having a contest to see who can heap on the most embellished praise? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve won, sir.”

He flashes a bright white smile. “Pretty sure? Should I continue the compliments?”

“Only if you want to remain here all night.”

“Not a chance.” He weaves our hands together. “I have big plans to dance slow and sexy with the most beautiful woman in the room tonight.”

Like most ofeverything in Burlington, Hotel Vermont isn’t more than a twenty-minute drive from Archer’s. Though I’ve admired the building’s stone, wood, and metal exterior for the past two years, I’ve never been inside. The lobby is immaculate, warm and rustic, but modern and filled with greenery. My gaze lingers on every detail.

“I fall in love with Vermont a little more every day.”

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