Broad shoulders.
Tapered waist.
Muscular arms.
Archer had flirted with me, and I was flirting back.
He was my boss.
He needed me to help him with his daughter.
I had to remember that.
I dumped the onions into the cast iron and then left them to sweat on low for a few minutes.I took the stairs two at a time and knocked on Lenni’s door.After a moment, she called, “Come in.”
She was standing at an open dresser drawer.
“So, your dad—Archer—has to work in the morning.But around noon we’re going to meet up with him and then go shopping for paint and a bedspread, and whatever else you need.”
She nodded but didn’t look up from the drawer.
“You doing okay?”I asked, still standing in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on her space.
“Fine.”Her tone was clipped.She shut the drawer with a bang.“I’m gonna shower and then go to bed.Is that okay with you?”
Impertinence.
“That’s okay with me,” I said, keeping my tone even.“I’m gonna let Mildred out and then I’ll bring her back to you if you want.”
“Whatever.”
She grabbed the pajamas that were on her bed and then stalked past me to the hall bathroom.The door closed with finality.
ChapterSix
The House
Jet lag and a new bed had me on the verge of consciousness for several hours.Mildred had decided to sleep with me and every time I rolled over, I encountered her warm, furry body.
She let out a snort, wormed her way out from underneath the covers, and then her paws hit the floor.She bumped her snout against the closed door.
“You hate me,” I whispered to her, but I dutifully flung off the covers.
I followed her out of the bedroom and stopped outside Lenni’s door.I listened intently for a moment, but all was quiet.
I hoped she was sleeping deeply and that she didn’t have nightmares.
Mildred hadn’t waited for me, and I heard the jangle of her collar from the bottom of the stairs.As I came down, the kitchen light greeted me when I rounded the staircase.I heard the low rumble of a male voice.I entered the room and nearly squeaked in surprise.
Archer stood at the counter, dark hair mussed, and thin wire framed glasses on his face.
So not only did he have a slutty mustache, but he had slutty glasses.
And my mini dachshund was currently cradled in one of his arms and pressed against his chest.
His bare, perfectly sculpted, inked chest.
And he was wearing?—
