AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And they can’t just take…” He lifts his coffee and smiles behind the lip, “a dozen pills each day to make up the difference?”
“No.” Humored, I take a bite of egg and wash it down with a sip of coffee. “Anyway. That’s where I’m up to. I’m researching. Doctor Cleary sent over some notes a couple of days ago, so I tossed them in that folder and figured I could read during my island getaway.”
“Instead,” he glances under the table, shifting his foot until our ankles touch, “you wasted your precious reading time gossiping with Aubs. Regretful?”
“No.” And since he brought us back around, I have marriage on my mind once more. “Wedding gowns?”
“There’s a room set up for you inside. There are about a dozen gowns for you to try on, but they’re mostly the traditional corset type, so you’ll need someone to help you put them on.”
Thrilled, my eyes pop wide. “Aubree?”
“Mary,” he huffs, speaking a woman’s name like I’m supposed to know her instantly. “She’s aboard and will see toyour clothing needs. She’s available whenever you’re ready to try things on. And she’ll also help you with hair and makeup, if you want those things for the big day.”
“Do you think I need hair and makeup?” Petulant, and missing my friend, I purse my lips. “Are you saying I need makeup to be pretty?”
He rolls his eyes. “Are you saying you’re so emotionally stunted that you need to ask that question?”
“Yes.” Irritated, I slump back in my chair. “You’re the master of planning these things, Archer. You didn’t think ahead that I might want Aubs here for this?”
“And you know I’m the guy who wants youalone. No work, no dead people, no shop talk, and no Aubree fucking Emeri tagging along on my honeymoon.” He shifts his foot and slides it over my ankle. His touch, soothing, though his words are harsh. “I love her, Minnnka. I think she’s the cutest, hippie future-sister-in-law I ever met. I know she’ll forever be in my life, because I can’t seem to get rid of Tim, even when I move to the other side of the country. But she’s not invited tothis.” Leisurely sitting forward, he sets his elbows on the table and meets my eyes. “This week is for me.”
“You mean, it’s for us?”
“No.” He flashes a salacious grin and chuckles. “It’s for me. I have to share you with everyone else all the fuckin’ time. With the George Stanley. With your staff. With Aubs and Tim, and Fletch and Moo, and even the damn mayor. I have to share you with finance reports and dead people.” His eyes flicker between mine. “I even have to share you with your hemophilia. So no.” He winks, the action startling me out of my staring reverie. “This week is forme. I wanna fuck until I have nothing left, and I wanna eat till we’re both fat. I wanna swim with you and talk with you. I want to learn who we are outside of homicide. And I wanna touch your butt a little bit.”
His cheeks lift as he smiles, his eyes squinting and dancing with playfulness.
“Hopefully you have fun too,” he finishes. “Though I’m enough of a bastard to admit this week isn’t about your pleasure at all. It’s about mine. So if you miss out…” he trails off, only to end his thoughts with a shrug.
“Bastard.” But because his jaw ticks,Iknow his final sentiment is a big fat lie. He caresonlyabout my pleasure. “Also, I want it noted that, typically, I’m not a girly kind of woman. I don’t do the best friends and gossip stuff. In fact, you and Aubs both give me grief over my closed-off-ness.”
“Your observations are noted.” He selects a grape and takes a bite. “Your observations are obvious. Aubree and I have discussed your closed-off-ness at length.”
“Bastard,” I repeat with a grumble. “My point is you people give me shit over the non-girly aspect of my friendship. Now I find myself in this new season of life, trying on wedding gowns, and you won’t let me see my best friend.” I settle back in my chair and purse my lips. “Controlling. Isolating. Sounds like a red flag kinda guy to me.”
He tosses the grape into his mouth and laughs. “I’malllllthe red flags, Mayet. You didn’t realize that yet?” Grabbing his coffee and taking a long sip, he sets the mug down with a noisy clatter and meets my eyes across the table. “You still hungry?”
I look down at my plate, still glistening and unused. Then I glance up again. “No. I’m full.”
“Excellent.” He takes the pot of coffee and sets it on top of my manila file, to keep it from blowing away in the wind. Then pushing up and stepping around the table, he grabs my hand and tugs me to my feet. We meet with a clash, our chests hitting with a thud and my breath racing out to hit his smiling lips. “I’ll take you to your dresses later, Minnnka. For now, I want to not share you.”
“You want to get laid again?” I cast a sly look past my husband, along the deck to make sure we’re alone. Then bringing my focus back, I raise a brow. “Seriously? You’re being greedy.”
“I’m allowed to be greedy. This is my vacation. Now come on.” He links our fingers together and leads me away from our table, past the wall of windows that reflect our images back at us. There’s a bartender in there, preparing for a day of work, and watching his boss sneak away for an early morning romp.
Archer continues on, down a set of steps and onto another deck. He moves quickly, dragging me along in his wake, past recliner chairs and umbrellas waiting to be used. Past little lifeboats, much sleeker than those on commercial yachts. He leads me all the way to the back of the boat, so when we arrive and the water is all but still, my question from earlier is answered.
We’re bobbing here. Not moving.
I turn when Archer releases my hand, then lift a brow in curiosity when he pushes his shirt back and reveals his bare chest. Ink glistens in the sunlight, and a not-that-old bullet wound shimmers when he turns on a certain angle.
The scar is ugly and rough, the skin healed in a way that would have a plastic surgeon rolling in their grave.
But I’m not in plastics, and I never agreed to be a surgeon that day inside a dusty warehouse.
“What are you doing?” I look around to make sure we’re still alone. “We walked straight by our room, right? We could have banged in there and saved ourselves from the public exhibitionism.”
“But I like public fuckery.” He takes my phone from his pocket and sets it on a chair, cushioned by his shirt. Then he stalks forward in a pair of board shorts that sit low enough to show off an indecent amount of his lower abdomen. I’m talking,pubic hair and the transversus abdominis muscles. “Actually, I like all the different varieties of Minka Mayet fuckery.”
