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Archer lands a kiss on my cheek before sliding off the bed, bearing his entire toned physique as he walks through to the kitchenette. I sit up and hug my knees, embracing the warm sheet around me as cool air touches the sweat on my skin.
“I am aware of the severity of our situation, Lilah,” he says, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Every possible outcome has crossed my mind at least once in the last several hours. A few of which are obviously more pleasant than the others, but I’m still here and so are you, so I’m willing to bet that we’re both holding out for one of those pleasant outcomes. Are you with me so far?”
I nod.
He twists the cap off the bottle. “I don’t want to cash you in,” he says, holding my eyes. “Now, tell me the truth. You don’t really want to kill me, do you?”
My gaze falls down his body again and I let it linger on his impressive manhood. “No,” I answer.
He scoops my dress up off the floor. “Then, throw this on and let’s go get some pancakes.”
Archer tosses it at me. I catch it as our smiles stretch across our lips.
Chapter 15
Archer
Lilah Hart. The most adorable monster I ever did see.
There’s something about a stack of pancakes that brings out the child in almost anyone. Melted butter, dripping syrup. Bits of fresh blueberries stabbed with a fork. Sticky lips on a smiling face.
We spend several minutes in silence, filling our bellies and staring at each other across the table. The rest of the diner is populated by truckers and random travelers who happened to wander several miles away from civilization like we did. Probably not for the same reasons, however. I’d imagine she and I are unique in that regard.
Lilah could be thinking anything right now. I watch her eyes closely, making sure she doesn’t get any sudden ideas with the butter knife resting by her plate. I should be more concerned than I am, but I can’t stop picturing what she looked like every time she came on my—
“Would you like a refill, sir?”
I twitch out of it and glance at the waiter standing over us with a coffee pot. “No, thank you…”
“I’ll take one,” Lilah says, sliding her half-full mug closer to the table’s edge.
The waiter tops it off, all the while eying the thick, black sweater Lilah wears so no one notices her stained dress. He catches me staring at him. I squint with the feigned possessiveness of a jealous boyfriend and he scampers off to the next table down.
Lilah picks up her mug with both hands and she inhales the fresh, warm scent. “Coffee…” she whispers before taking a sip.
“So, have you spoken to anyone about your substance abuse problem?” I ask.
She sticks her tongue out at me and sets the mug down. “You sound like Elijah.”
“A medical professional. Perhaps you should listen to him.”
“Perhaps you should mind your own damn business.”
I laugh. “Fair enough.”
Her tongue swipes her inner cheek. “So, who’s your favorite bounty?”
“My what?”
“A guy with your record must have a few good stories,” she says. “Who’s your favorite?”
“What was that about minding your own damn business again?” I tease.
“We can continue staring awkwardly at each other if you’d rather do that.”
“No, no. I’ll tell you.” I shift forward in thought. “Well, this one isn’t bad.”
“Never banged a bounty on your kitchen table before?”
