Page 70 of A Texas Hero

“Ingenious,” Robin said. “I would expect a smart girl like Zoey to think of everything. And what kind of dresses do you carry, if I might ask? Anything vintage? That’s what I’d love. Obviously, I’m no blushing bride. I’m sixty-one years old and getting married for the second time. I want a dress that’s old, too.”

Archer and her father laughed at this, but Zoey didn’t think it was funny.

“I have vintage dresses,” Zoey finally said, and Archer gave her an encouraging smile. “But I don’t think there’s anything you would like.”

“I’d love to see what you have,” Robin said, leaning forward. “I’m going to be in Charming for a few more days so maybe I could drop by.”

When Zoey didn’t respond for a second or two, Archer piped in. “Drop by anytime, except she’s closed on Mondays.”

Finally, the food was served, and Zoey picked at her pasta carbonara. She’d lost her appetite. After Archer finished his steak, he switched with Alec, who ate a quick meal. Harry took his meal to go. The conversation was pure agony, having to listen to Robin and her father discuss their past and how much they had in common. Their families went to the same church, their mothers were friends, their siblings were friends. It all sounded ideal.

On the drive back, Archer had decided to be quiet for a change. Maybe he was giving Zoey space to gather her thoughts. She didn’t say anything for a while, simply stared out at the landscape as they passed the sea wall, the lighthouse and the piers.

It was only when she could form her thoughts in a coherent fashion that she finally spoke aloud what was in her heart:

“I really, really don’t like her.”

* * *

Archer had tried his best, but when forced to take sides, he was decidedly and firmly Team Zoey. There was no other choice. He was on her side, no matter what, in everything. It didn’t make sense, but somehow it didn’t have to.

When Zoey had asked him if she thought Birdy and Patchy were reasonable nicknames for “people of their age” he had to admit no, he didn’t think so, either. When she said Robin was so beautiful she had to be stuck-up, he had nodded and agreed that might be true. Personally, Archer thought she’d been very nice, but she did carry herself with confidence, which he supposed could be interpreted as arrogance.

“Why did you offer her my wedding dress services?”

They were back in the boutique the next morning. Zoey was hanging up dresses according to a color scheme and he was standing guard, because there was no one else in the store.

“Aren’t you trying to get the word out about your wedding dresses?”

“Yes, but these vintage designer dresses are deals I scour, and they’re for women like Rachel, who couldn’t otherwise afford them. I do this to honor my mother because, before she married my dad, she used to shop secondhand everything. Robin can afford a designer dress. She’s a doctor, after all!” Zoey huffed.

“Well, the good news is that she’s not after your father’s money,” Archer offered, and when Zoey scowled, he added, “I don’t like her, of course. But still.”

“My father still has a lot more money than she does, I’m sure.” She stopped and looked up at the ceiling as if something had just occurred to her. “He better sign a prenup.”

“I’m sure he will.” Archer didn’t think any good business manager would allow the marriage otherwise.

She shook a finger at him. “Don’t be so sure! She’s got her hooks in my father, I can tell. He’s got this dreamy, ‘I’ve lost leave of my senses’ look in his eyes.”

“And what does that look like?”

Zoey actually tried to show him, shimmying her shoulders, fluttering her eyelashes, making such a silly face that Archer had to laugh out loud.

“Like that!”

She turned back to her dresses.

He shook his head, chuckled and wondered if that was what he looked like every time he stole a look at Zoey. He did so often, when she was busy with a customer, swimming laps in her pool, cooking or sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn binging old Frasier episodes. This assignment would be over soon, any day now, and he’d have to leave her behind. He’d have to abandon the sense of home she’d created for him in the course of just over two weeks. To say he’d miss her would be an understatement.

Last night he’d spoken with Ian, who’d said he would let him know of his next assignment today. He was impressed with his handling of this one. There was a chance he could be sent to China to be part of a liaison team for the Chinese ambassador. Not a small job.

A part of Archer wanted to move on, so he wouldn’t have to live in this space between desire and helplessness anymore. His inclination, when it came to Zoey, was to protect her at all costs, and that didn’t only come from his job assignment. He’d probably never stop worrying or thinking about Zoey. She’d had a life-changing effect on him, because he now saw clearly how someone could need him, and he could also need them. He needed the way Zoey made him believe in that part of himself that carried and held deep emotions. He had never let himself be as vulnerable as he had been with her.

“Welcome,” Archer said when a new customer came in. “Let me know if I can help you find something.”

Most of the time, this was all it took. Shoppers had something specific in mind when they entered the shop and only wanted to find the right size.

“I heard you can help me,” said the well-dressed elderly gentleman. “Name’s Roy. Roy Finch.”