Page 91 of The Archer Brothers

“We think she put her arm across your daughter to save her.” I let the words sink in. Carole saved her daughter. The thoughts filtering through my mind right now are not good. I have visions of Ryley hitting the windshield and flying through it. It’s like I’m there, at the accident, even though I wasn’t. I can’t help but picture what could’ve been if they had been anywhere else and not in front of the base.

“Can I go in now?” I ask, but the doctor ignores me. Jensen looks at him, but he shakes his head.

“Only family is allowed until she’s moved.”

“Fuck that, Iamher family,” I say as I move past him and through the double doors. He says something about security but I don’t give a shit. Ineedto see Ryley. I need to touch her, feel her skin against mine and hear her voice. I have to see for myself that every part of her is okay.

I look in every room, seeing things that I can’t erase from my mind. In one room, a wife is sobbing over who I’m assuming is her husband. It didn’t look so good for him. In another, there is a child with only a nurse in there. We make eye contact, and she looks sad and despondent. Where are her parents? Short of yelling out her name and drawing attention to myself, this is all I can do. Each room is either occupied or empty; sadly there are more occupants than I expected.

Finally I find her with a bandage on her forehead and her red hair tucked behind her ears. She looks pale and for her that’s not a good thing. Her casted arm rests on her stomach and her eyes are closed. I try to be quiet as I walk in, but to no avail. When her eyes spring open, a small, sad smile appears on her flawless face. It changes though when she sees the bear I’m carrying.

I hold him up in front of my face and move him from side to side like he’s dancing as I walk toward her. “You float my boat, Ryley Clarke.” She laughs, and it’s instantly like everything is okay. I know she hasn’t chosen me, but that doesn’t stop me from stealing a kiss from her. And as happy as I am to give her this bear, he’s cramping my style because he’s wedged in between us.

“I don’t know, babe, I saw this guy and thought he looked like me with his sailor hat and his life buoy, but right now he’s just in the way.”

“I love him,” she says as she pulls him into her chest with her good arm. “It’s worse than it looks, Archer, I promise you.” She knows that calling me Archer will soothe just about anything because for some reason hearing her call me by my last name is freaking hot.

“You scared me.”

She nods as tears prick her eyes. “I was scared, but someone pulled me out of the car before… I just don’t know what’s going on and why people want to hurt us.”

I try to hug her, but considering the bed and her arm, it’s really a half-assed attempt. Her hand clutches the back of my shirt as she sobs. I want to tell her that it’s going to be okay, but I don’t believe those words myself and I’m not going to lie to her.

“We’re uncovering the truth and someone wants that truth to stay hidden.”

“Did you kill someone over there, someone powerful?” she asks as she pulls away.

“I did, but I don’t know how he’s connected to what’s going on here. None of it makes sense, but I swear to you, Ry, I am going to find out.”

I LIKE TO PRIDE myself on being a man’s man. The type that isn’t afraid to open doors for women, pull out their chairs or help someone across the street. Being that type of man, I’ve always been the one to drive, but Cara won’t let me and I’m having a hard time sitting still. It’s not that she’s a bad driver, I’m just used to being in control.

And right now, I’m not in control of anything.

It’s been almost two weeks since Carole turned the mysterious cell phone over and the car accident happened. I never wanted to hand the phone over to NCIS but Cara and Carole thought it would be best, especially since it was found in the home of a serviceman. I thought with Cara being here she could look into it, but she reminded me that she’s investigating Lawson and it would be best to follow Carole’s lead.

The witnesses from the car accident couldn’t provide many details. A black SUV-type vehicle was the only consistent evidence. Some saw a license plate, others said there wasn’t one. A few said the sun was shining too brightly and they couldn’t see anything other than the SUV speeding away. This is a police matter and because Ryley and Carole escaped, the police are slow moving. If I were them I’d be overturning every auto body shop possible from here to Mexico.

Since that day at the beach, Ryley has reminded me each and every day to tell Cara how I feel. At first, I wanted to tell Ryley that she was wrong, that she’s the one I love, but words failed me. Idolove Ryley, but we would’ve never been together had this shit with Evan not happened. I’d like to think that Cara and I would be married by now. She was happy in our life before and it makes me wonder if I can make her happy again.

I’m not hiding the fact that I’m staring at her while she drives us to the NCIS office and by the devilish little smile that she has on her face, I can tell she knows it. Does she know what I’m thinking? Do I even know what I’m thinking? As I look at her, I see the same beautiful, smart, sexy and vivacious woman that I fell in love with years ago. Her brown hair is shorter, but with the same blonde highlights that she used to fret over when we were together. Her make-up is still subtle and you only know she’s wearing it if you look hard enough. Her lips are still painted in the soft muted pink that she used all the time. She’d always buy multiple tubes for fear she would run out and the store wouldn’t have it. I used to call her “cotton candy” because her lips were always pink and they tasted so sweet.

The only notable difference in her now, aside from the poise in which she carries herself, is the gun on her hip. And call me stupid, but I find that incredibly sexy. There’s something enticing about taking a woman to a gun range and firing off a few rounds.

I’m not sure if what I’m feeling now is anticipation or anxiousness, but sitting here thinking about her isn’t helping. I should be thinking about Ryley. Weeks ago she was my fiancée and now she’s not. I know for a fact she’s single and hasn’t told Evan because she wasn’t sure if jumping back in with two feet was the smartest thing to do. Over breakfast this morning, she told me she feels like her heart has been ripped out of her chest one too many times and while she loves Evan, she wonders if it’s enough to make them work. Six years of thinking the one you love is dead when he really wasn’t is a hard pill to swallow. I told her she has to do what’s right for her and that Evan would understand. I know he would, but he may not like it.

Ryley’s words are on automatic replay, “I’m telling you to choose Cara.” To me, Ryley is a selfless woman, giving up what could be her happiness for another woman that she calls a friend. I should heed the words from Ryley, but I’m not sure Cara is in the same mind frame and even if she were, the logistics of our lives would be the forefront of our relationship. I have to ask myself if Cara is worth giving it all up. Is the love I feel…felt… is it worth leaving Coronado and starting over in Virginia?

The car comes to a halt and I glance quickly to see that we’re stopped on the highway. Traffic is the bane of existence in the State of California.

“Your staring is starting to creep me out.” She looks over at me, raising her eyebrow.

“Do you remember what it feels like?”

“Whatwhatfeels like?”

“What it feels like when I kiss you?” I ask, not giving her time to respond as I reach over and cup her face with my hands. We crash into each other with hungry, eager lips. It’s sloppy and hard as our tongues battle for dominance, intertwining in an intense dance. Fingernails dig into my skin as she clutches the front of my shirt, pulling me toward her. Our seatbelts strain as we fight to get closer. I always thought that Ryley and I had chemistry, but I was wrong. In this moment, I’m certain I am meant to be with Cara.

Our kisses turn soft, less eager, but with more passion. Her hands move from my chest and onto my neck as her fingertips play with my earlobes. Horns honk in the background causing her to pull away, but not before I get another taste of her lips. I don’t know about her, but I’m having a hard time catching my breath and when she pulls away, the pink flush of her cheeks tells me she felt something too.

---