When Fall Fades (The Girl Next Door Series Book 1) (22 page)

Stopping just short of drooling over the all too recent and real fantasy, he shook his head. “Sadie, what am I gonna do about you?”

It was clear what he wanted to do. That was the problem.

Focus. Archer forced his attention back on the file, having forgotten that he’d requested this information on Sadie before anything had happened between them. Perusing the thin file, he felt a little creepy.

Yet apparently not creepy enough to stop reading.

Nothing much from her childhood, except her school records. She’d once been the lead in the school musical gone awry when the stage collapsed mid-production, and she’d attended med camp for two summers in high school. Aside from that there was one credit card statement and her college transcripts. He scanned her transcript from med school, remembering what she had told him about dropping out when he hit a snag.

She’d earned exceptionally high marks until her withdrawal from the program. Just a few months before graduation.

Archer stared at the page as if it could provide an explanation until he felt itchy with guilt. He closed the file and fed it into the shredder.

It was almost time to head out for the day and he’d yet to call Sadie again. She’d ignored two more of his calls this afternoon which meant things weren’t looking good. So, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go out with her, but at the very least he owed her an explanation.

“Please, pick up.” The phone continued to ring and his hope dwindled.

“Hello?”

“Sadie! It’s Archer, don’t hang up.” He held his breath in the silent pause. “Sadie?”

“Still here.”

She hadn’t hung up. Okay, now what? Why hadn’t he come up with something to say before he called?
Idiot!

“Hey, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I can explain. What are you doing right now?”

Rummaging noises weren’t the only clue she was preoccupied. Her voice was strained and tight. Which meant either she was under duress or she was ticked. “I, uh, just got home from work and I was about to make myself some dinner.”

Ticked.

“Do you think maybe you could come over tonight? I really wanted to be there yesterday, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
You will?
He mentally slammed himself. He was supposed to be pulling back.

Her mood seemed cool, unaffected—like Libby the day he’d left. The prolonged silence made it clear she was going to turn him down. “Archer—”

“Please, just don’t say no.” He rolled his eyes, wondering if the bullet could have somehow nicked his arm and his brain simultaneously.

The silence lengthened, Archer’s pulse slowed like mud in his veins.

“Fine. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.” Hanging up, he hustled out of his office and hauled Sal out of his chair. “I need you to take me home, but I need to stop and grab dinner on the way.”

“Ooo, are you treating?”

Of course Sal was hungry.

“Not for you. But I’ve gotta call it in and we’ve gotta hurry.”

Sal’s jaw about hit the ground, and he stopped in his tracks. “Do you have a date, Ace?”

Archer, already several paces ahead of him, doubled back and grabbed the front of Sal’s suit, tugging him along with one arm to the car. “I told you, we’ve gotta hurry. Now wipe that stupid smirk off your face, or I’ll do it for you.”

Sal laughed. “All right buddy, let’s not keep the chica waiting, eh?”

Chapter 21

Sadie Carson

I
t was only a button. Just a little white button.

Sadie jerked back as if saving her hand from spider fangs. She laughed humorlessly. “Dramatic much?”

Raking her fingers through her hair, she struggled, seriously struggled with the simple task of pressing the buzzer for Archer’s apartment. A simple act, with complicated consequences.

“What are you doing here?” She lamented aloud. Turning on her heels, she paced away from the door only to find herself backtracking a moment later. Placing her finger over the button, she closed her eyes tight. “Don’t do it, Sadie. Just walk away.”

A buzzing sound made her eyes jolt open. She looked shamefully at her hand that, it would seem, had an agenda of its own. “You little hussy. No getting handsy, you hear?”

Yep, she was officially losing it.

Her stomach crimped in a tight bundle, each stripped nerve misfiring like a bad batch of fireworks exploding prelaunch. She was practically shaking.

Probably should have eaten beforehand. Comfort food and all that. Anything chocolate would do the trick.

The elevator doors opened, and her stomach growled at the sight of him. She bit back a whimper, thinking perhaps there were more tempting comforts than food.

He stood leaning against the door frame—the most indulgent kind of comfort on display—with a heated look in his eyes that could melt the polar icecaps. Their eyes locked, a sly smile curled on his lips. Oh, he was all kinds of big and bad and tempting. And this good girl was one hyperventilated breath away from toeing over to the dark side.

He looked different—and way too good—in a fitted olive green T-shirt and buttery soft jeans that clung to lean hips and muscular thighs. His feet were bare, and holy hot flash, why was that so sexy?

Darn him, for being so irresistible. Okay, she shored up. Be strong.

“I’m glad you came.” His rumbly voice about shattered her composure. But as she neared, she noticed a large gauze dressing on his right arm peeking out beneath his taut sleeve.

She stopped inches away and gently touched his forearm, praying for reinforcement in her suddenly weak knees. “What happened?”

His eyes twinkled and his hands skimmed up her hips with the barest caress, resting at her waist as if he had every right to touch her with such familiarity. Like she was his. “Why don’t you come in and I’ll explain.” His thumbs traced absent circles over her stomach, his large hands nearly encompassing her completely. The tension he’d held in his body seeming to dissolve the moment he touched her.

Suppressing a shiver, she forced herself to step past him and out of his possessive hold, willing her heart to resume an acceptable resting rate. She dropped her purse to the floor and sat at the table, anxious for an explanation.

Taking his time, he wandered into the kitchen and retrieved two glasses. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Can you just come over here and tell me what happened first?”

He chuckled, filled the glasses with water and made his way to the set table. “I thought I’d tell you while we ate dinner. I hope you like Italian.” Archer opened some kind of takeout tray and dished pasta onto their plates. Whatever it was, the rich, creamy aroma danced from the plate and awakened her taste buds for something other than the prime hunk of man meat at her left. 

Answers first, food later. She leaned back in her chair, folded her arms, and glared her impatience.

“Okay, okay. I was following a lead we had on Charlie’s case. I went to question this old guy in a pretty bad part of town about two hours before our date.” He paused for a second, took a bite, and then motioned toward her plate with his fork. “You should eat that before it gets cold.”

“Stop stalling. And don’t leave anything out.”

“Well.” He swallowed, wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I interrupted some kids stealing from the guy. When I got to the back room they started shooting, and they got away while I tended to the old guy’s bullet in the stomach.”

Sadie heard herself gasp—cringing at how much the sound resembled her mother. 

“There’s more. I tried to call for backup, but my phone wouldn’t work. I was by myself, the guy was bleeding out, the punks were getting away … so I picked him up and raced to the hospital.”

“Did you get there in time? Did he bleed out? Is he okay?”

Chewing, he nodded. “I tied a sheet around his stomach to keep pressure on the wound.”

“Good thinking.” Her panic eased.

His laughter played like a smooth riff of an old jazz song, wooing her senses despite her determination to resist the pull.

“I’m not done. Settle down and eat your dinner.”

Halfheartedly complying, Sadie picked up her fork and twirled her pasta.

“Anyways, I hadn’t realized that I’d been hit, too.”

“You got shot!” Her fork dropped out of her hand and clanked against the plate.

“Perhaps we should take a brief intermission from the story.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Archer tapped his mouth. “Let’s see, where was I? I can’t remember.” She rolled her eyes.

He took another big forkful and chewed slowly, torturing her with his sauntering pace.

“Oh, yes. I was shot. I woke up a few hours later in the ER. From all the blood I’d lost, they thought the bullet severed my brachial artery, but when they got me back for surgery, they found it was just barely nicked. Sewed me up, good as new.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “But when I tried to call you, repeatedly, you didn’t answer. I think that about brings us up to speed.” He took another bite and pointed back towards her plate, mumbling, his mouth full, “You really should eat. You look a little faint.”

“That’s because you just told me you were shot!”

Swallowing the bite, he shrugged again, unfazed. “It wasn’t the first time.”

He continued to eat, but Sadie’s appetite had vanished.

It wasn’t the first time.

How many times before now? How many more times until—

“So, as far as excuses go, I did have a pretty good one for standing you up.” His smile was so sweet she had to stop herself from leaning across the table to have a taste.

He’s okay. It’s just a flesh wound.

The tension in Sadie’s shoulders finally waned. She picked up her fork and took her first bite of pasta. Her eyes widened, the creamy sauce ripe with robust flavors and a none too subtle zip of spice.

“Pretty good, right?” He polished off his last bite and dished himself another heaping plate.

“Mmm.” Sadie dug in. “So good if you weren’t hurt I might wrestle you for the last helping.”

“Rain check.” He reached over, swept his thumb over a dab of sauce she’d been about to lick from the corner of her mouth.

She looked up at him as a quiet moment settled in.

“So, do you forgive me?” His hand fell away, his voice was as warm and coaxing as the honey in his eyes.

Swallowing the suddenly stony mass of noodles in her mouth she nodded, not trusting her voice. Having lied to herself until this moment of excruciating clarity, the truth slammed into her like a roundhouse kick to the solar plexus.

She had feelings for him. Real feelings.
Aww, crud
.

It was wrong, and reckless. Just plain bad. Bad, Sadie, bad.

The revelation shifted her mood, and she realized she was afraid, maybe even terrified. She was falling for a man who constantly put his life on the line for his job. The risk assessment in her buzzkill brain signaled a “mayday.” Falling was all fun and thrills until you crashed into reality at the bottom. And this baby was on a crash course for a fatal landing.

Twin lines furrowed Archer’s brows. He opened his mouth to say something when his phone rang. “Sorry, let me just turn that off.”

“Go ahead and get it, I, uh … need to use the restroom.” Sadie excused herself—grateful for a chance to pull it together.

Behind the closed door she glared at the mirror.

What is wrong with you? Just stop. You won’t survive this.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she prayed for strength to do what needed to be done.

And then since she really didn’t need to use the bathroom, she teased the wavy mess of her hair away from her face, freed another button on the completely unsexy plaid, button up shirt she’d carelessly paired with dark denim cutoffs and then fortified herself with several deep breaths before making her way out to Archer—to end this ridiculous infatuation before it got any worse.

“How much longer does he have? … I’d come right now but I’d don’t have a car, there was, uhh, an incident yesterday and … I know, I’m sorry, I should have called you back sooner. I just didn’t realize. Let me try and figure this out … Okay, bye.” Archer hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, startling when Sadie spoke.

“Everything all right?” She met him where he stood.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Not really. Apparently my dad’s been sick for a couple weeks and took a bad turn. They’re not sure he’s gonna make it through the night.”

The temptation to lean into his chest and comfort him just about propelled her forward, but she held back. Bereavement and deathbeds had sort of become her specialty. But in this case, with this man, she was at a loss. And she feared if she touched him, the tight rope she was so precariously balancing on would snap. She dipped her chin, lifted her eyes to meet his downcast gaze. “You need to be there. Where is he?”

“That’s the problem. Because of the shooting my car was taken in for cleaning, so I don’t have transportation. He’s in some small town near Kansas City.”

Sadie glanced at the clock. It was only seven thirty and she didn’t have to work tomorrow. “Let’s go.”

“What?” He looked up, his eyes swimming with uncertainty and something else she couldn’t identify.

“You probably shouldn’t be driving anyway. I’ll take you.” It was the right thing to do. It might be his last chance for closure.

“Sadie.” His voice grew achingly tender. “You really don’t have to—”

“Trust me, if you don’t go, you’ll regret it.” As she spoke, his eyes went melty. And she realized right then what she’d just signed herself up for.

A cozy little road trip for two.

Brilliant. So much for her usually reliable self-preservation reflex. Oh yeah, and that guard she’d been building around her heart? Archer was suddenly her very own Clark Gable from
It Happened One Night
, tearing down her “walls of Jericho.”

Was he really what he seemed? The yummy bad boy you can’t help but crave somehow remarkably paired with a huge tender heart? She thought about the mischief in his slightly crooked smile. The sincerity in those deeply haunted eyes that missed nothing. The way his initially rusty laugh was now smooth and easy. Was it just for her? Sure, she was probably naive, but who wouldn’t be defenseless against someone as potent as Archer Hayes? And well, he might be toxic, but if she was going to crash and burn, he was, without a doubt, the right kind of wrong.

“So, umm … go pack your stuff. I’ll run into my place to grab a few things, and then we’ll hit the road.”

Strong hands cupped her face, the pads of his callused thumbs rasped over her cheeks, making her shiver. She ceased breathing as he pressed his lips firmly to her forehead before rushing off to his room and returning moments later with a small duffel bag. He grabbed his phone and called his mom as they made their way to Sadie’s car.

Concentrating on sedating her nerves she barely registered his hesitation. She turned to where Archer had stopped a few feet away, shoving his phone in his pocket, a strange expression etched in his rugged and scarred brow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where’s the Camaro?” He stepped forward and tossed his bag into the back seat of her Jeep.

“Oh, right. My dad’s doing some work on it. Oil change, tune-up, that kinda thing.” Truthfully, she was relieved she didn’t have it. Archer in the Camaro was confusing. Kind of like inviting your ex and your boyfriend on the side, to your wedding to another man. A twisted collision of past, present, and future that no one but God himself could untangle.

Archer looked like he wanted to say something but buckled in and settled with, “I see.”

They rode to her condo without conversation. Archer was searching the name of the hospital his mom had given him for directions, and Sadie was trying to convince herself this wasn’t a horrible idea.

“I’ll just be a few minutes.” She pulled to a stop in the parking lot, leaving everything in the car save the key to her front door.

“Take your time.”