Page 25 of Loving at 40

Archer doesn’t come within five feet of me throughout most of the evening, but occasionally, I find his eyes tracking my movement. Standing at the base of the tree fort, I gaze across the yard to find him watching me. Sitting on the double chaise-lounger with Anna, and Archer is staring. Helping Rosie and Talia with hot dogs and chips, and Archer observes. Each time I try to catch his eye, though, he looks away. Then a plate appears before me.

“You need to eat. Sit.” His commanding tone startles me, but when I look up, he won’t face me. Still, he holds out a plate with grilled chicken and salad. “Don’t want you getting another headache.” His concern is like an arrow straight to my heart. His hand lifts to my lower back, then drops before touching me. With a nod of his head instead, Archer motions at a seat around the outdoor table. Moments later, he sits beside me but keeps his chair a respectful distance, and my emotions ping-pong all over the place.

I need to apologize for my accusations. Archer needs to understand, though. I’m protective of my girls and I won’t be played as a single mother with mocking almost-kisses. I don’t know why it’s still bothering me that it didn’t happen. Maybe because I was so close to something I haven’t had in over three years.

“Jenna?” So deep in my thoughts, I miss that someone was speaking to me, and I glance up from staring at my plate to find Mason looking at me. “So how ‘bout it?”

I swallow. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

Mason chuckles good-naturedly. “Ditch the rugrats and come out for a drink with me tonight.”

Turning my head briefly to Archer and back to Mason, I use the second to contrive an answer but can’t think of a good one other than this: “I can’t.”

Archer isn’t part of this conversation. His body leans in a manner that positions him facing Zack at the end of the table, but his head holds still as if he’s listening in my direction.

“Why not? Mila’s old enough to babysit. Come out for a bit.”

While Mila is twelve and capable of handling Rosie and Talia for an evening, I don’t want to go out with Mason. We’ve already been there, done that, and it wasn’t even a date. We hooked up, plain and simple, and it’s embarrassing to recall such a thing two decades later. We were drunk, young, and doing what college kids do on occasion.

As I’m formulating an answer, something skitters against the underside of my knee and I flinch. Quickly glancing down at my leg, I realize too late what I thought was a bug were Archer’s fingertips. Was his touch meant to get my attention? Or was he warning me not to go out with Mason?

His hand stills, then slowly retreats to his own thigh.

“I can’t,” I repeat to Mason, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m here to spend time with my girls.”

“Aren’t you with your girls all the time?” He softly smiles. Mason has a child of his own. I can’t remember her exact age, but her name is Lynlee, and I wonder why she isn’t present during this two-week vacation with his friends.

“In the summer, yes, but for nine months of the year I’m teaching.” My working mother guilt-cup overflows some days. I’d taken maternity leave when Talia and Rosie were each born and found being home with my babies was more rewarding than I expected it to be. When I first returned to work after Talia’s birth, I cried for weeks as I left her behind with a sitter. Carol is great as an in-home daycare provider, and she doesn’t charge me enough for what she does, but as a single mother on a public-school teacher salary, I appreciate her discount.

Mason stares at me as if my reason isn’t enough explanation.

“For old time’s sake.” He wiggles his brows, giving me a crooked grin which I’m certain works on many ladies, but not me. Not anymore.

I’m older and wiser to the likes of men like Mason.

“Been there, done that,” I playfully tease, but I’m suddenly uneasy when the chair beside me scrapes across the concrete patio and the person within it shifts his body to face Mason more directly.

“The lady doth protest, and she said it enough. No.” The tone of his voice is sharper than I’ve ever heard and his forearm leans on the table, exposing strength worthy of arm porn. I’m almost drooling. Even sitting down, he suddenly seems larger, imposing, ready to leap over this table and shut Mason up. Glancing from Archer to Mason, I immediately try to soothe the sudden tension swirling between the two men.

“I’m also here for Anna,” I remind Mason, and his attention turns toward the end of the table where Anna sits near Zack and River.

I’m not certain what I’m doing to actually help Anna, especially after I was gone all day the other day, missed manicures and margaritas, and then slept through dinner last night. I’m hoping I offer silent moral support as the stories about Ben fly around us. Ben, Ben, Ben. Anna needs to come to terms with the fact that she is an individual. Her life with Ben might have felt like it defined her, but she’s going to need a new definition for the future. She is still alive, and she needs to live for herself.

“You both should come out tonight,” Mason suggests. His voice quiets as he peers back at me and reaches for his beer on the table.

“She said no,” Archer interjects and the growly undertone of his voice raises the hairs on my arm.

Mason tips back his beer and narrows his eyes at Archer.

Archer doesn’t move his glare from Mason. “Take the hint.”

“Easy, man,” Mason snarks, lowering the bottle to the table but Archer does not back down. His body is rigid. His attention focused. The vibe would almost be scary if it weren’t so fracking hot. He looks like he’s ready to pounce over the table and tackle Mason. While I don’t want that type of aggression to play out before me, I understand he’s acting this way on my behalf.

I reach for Archer’s forearm on the table and squeeze the firm muscle and warm skin while addressing Mason once more. “Maybe we can all go out one night. Adults only, but not tonight.” Steadying my voice, I add a smile, but feel all eyes on our end of the table.

“What are we discussing down there?” Anna teases.

“Nothing,” Archer hisses.