Page 14 of Sigh of Relief

Not immediately. Elton had been so hyperfocused on work, throwing all his energy into the job, into climbing the ladder, that there’d been no time for hookups, much less relationships, and definitely not with someone of the same gender.

But then Mel and her lot had drawn him in and the Maybe now thoughts had started. Had become Maybe Archer when he’d uncovered the chain and clamps from the party that night in a box in his closet. He’d fondly remembered Tanya—and the hazel-eyed man with a sprinkling of gray in his beard who’d watched them from across the room, who’d locked eyes with him and sent a wave of warmth crashing over Elton.

Warmth he’d happily drowned in the past couple days. Archer acted the part of prickly grump, but the consideration and care he showed his vines, his friends, and his employees, the fact that he, Ezra, and Al had stayed tight all these years, the way he’d offered Elton refuge, a task to do and an ear to listen, all pointed to a gentle soul beneath the rough and rugged exterior.

“He’s everything our world isn’t, and it’s⁠—”

The roar of an engine and the squeal of tires pierced the quiet night. She smiled. “A breath of fresh air.”

A sigh of relief.

He ran a hand over his head. “This could not come at a worse time.” The first person since Tanya he’d been seriously interested in—who’d made him want more—right when their world was on fire.

Mel laughed out loud again. “That’s kind of our thing.”

“Still even?” he said. Maybe when the Duncan Vaughns of the world were the evil du jour, but now, when the entire system seemed stacked against them . . . “When we were at the winery last fall, I had hope, I thought . . .”

She squeezed his arm in hers. “We all did. But those days are gone.”

He glanced the foot down to meet her no longer playful gaze. “That’s not helping.”

“That’s reality,” she said. Matter of fact, no bullshit. He’d always counted on her for that. “For all of us, but especially for melanated people like you, me, and Maya. I’m fucking terrified too, for my family, my friends, and myself.”

Her confession was barely audible over the growl of the bright yellow Maserati that screeched to the curb in front of them. The passenger window lowered, and Daniel Talley leaned across the center console, his adoring gaze landing on his wife. “Your chariot awaits, chica,” he called to Mel, then flashed Elton a wide smile. “Hey, El.”

“Danny,” he said with a nod.

Mel withdrew her arm from his and patted his chest. When he glanced back down, her gaze was still serious but full of her trademark determination. “Holding on to the people I love, to the moments of laughter with everything I have, is what makes the other side of terrifying worth the battle.” She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. “You’re allowed—you need—to love and laugh too.”

Chapter Nine

“How’s our visitor?”

Archer sank into his office chair and glanced across the barn to the empty lounge area, imagining the emptier guest suite behind it. “Gone.”

“Gone?” Ezra squawked from the phone screen propped on the charging stand. “What did you do?”

Archer scoffed to match his friend’s dramatics. “Why do you assume it was me?”

Silence.

“Okay, fair,” he conceded. Ezra knew as well as anyone that Archer was an acquired taste, but Elton seemed perfectly fine with his prickly flavor. “But this wasn’t my fault. He got called back to work. I don’t think it’s gonna be a good week for him.”

Elton hadn’t said a word the entire ride home from the restaurant, his focus on the executive orders he’d been scrolling through on his phone. By the time they’d made it back to the barn, he’d been vibrating with anger. Archer had suggested he wait until morning to leave and gotten glared daggers in response—the first time he’d really seen Agent Moore.

Archer had barely had time to make him another to-go coffee before Elton was peeling out of the gravel lot. He hoped he’d made it back to San Francisco safely. Had been sorely tempted to check the guest logs for his contact info but had restrained himself, barely.

“Was it a good couple days for him?” Ezra asked, hauling Archer back to the present.

“I put him to work.”

“How’d you do that?”

The leer in Ezra’s voice, the mischief sparkling in his eyes, made Archer laugh. “In the vineyard, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Yours went there too.”

Well, now that he’d mentioned it, Archer’s mind happily rewound to yesterday morning when he’d opened the door to long denim-cased legs, a charming smile, and stolen coffee, to later that morning when Venezuelan slang had easily rolled off Elton’s tongue, his words and laughter full of kindness and camaraderie for Miguel and Daniela, to yesterday evening when his snug Henley had shown off every defined muscle of his upper body, to the heat that had radiated off his arm when he’d stretched it behind Archer.