Page 71 of Archer

“Research on other cases like this, and experience planning counterstrikes. When someone fixates on a target, nothing else matters. Not self-preservation, not consequences. Just reaching their objective.”

A chill ran through me. “That’s terrifying.”

“It’s not great,” he admitted. “But it’s also why we’re going to win. Webb’s likely not thinking clearly. We are.”

I stepped closer, and Archer pulled me into his arms. I fit perfectly against his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath my ear.

I pulled back to look at him, finding silver linings in the absolute horror of my life at the moment. “I’m also writing again. Did you know that? This morning, after our walk, I sat down and a whole verse just came out. First time in months I’ve been able to do that.”

His expression softened. “That’s good, Harper. Really good.”

“You want to know what the song is about?”

“What?”

“You. This feeling of being safe enough to breathe again.” I touched his face, fingertips tracing the hard line of his jaw. “Even in the middle of all this chaos, you make me feel safe.”

He raised one of my hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to my palm. The gesture sent warmth spreading through my chest. “I will always protect you.”

I rose onto my toes holding his gaze before slowly closing my eyes and tilting my head in invitation.

Archer kissed me, soft and slow. His hand slid into my hair, and I let myself dissolve into the moment. Greedy for the peace and exhilaration that came with his touch.

Archer’s phone buzzed, and he released me with a groan.

I sighed and stepped back so he could check the screen.

“Knox.” He held the device between us and opened the message.

Movement at the tree line. I’m moving in for a closer look.

Colton messaged next: All clear on the street

Knox: Confirmed. Deer. Stand down.

I rolled my eyes and huffed, frustrated again.

Archer stared at his phone as if it had betrayed him somehow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a feeling.” He looked at me. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d feel a lot better if you slept with me tonight.”

A soft laugh broke on my lips. “Yeah?”

He frowned, of course. “We don’t have to share a bed, and I don’t care which room you choose, but I’d like to position myself between you and the entry point. If anything happens, I’ll be right there.” Archer stilled. “If that makes you uncomfortable⁠—”

I shook my head as the massive Marine turned pink and fumble for his words.

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Your suggestion makes perfect sense.”

Hours later, we moved through the cottage in our practiced routine. I tidied up, started the dishwasher, and put my guitar safely away. Archer checked every lock and every window. Twice. He disarmed, then rearmed the security system, double-checked the cameras and pulled every curtain.

When he was satisfied the place was secure, we headed to my bedroom. I suddenly felt self-conscious about the unmade bed, certain his comforter was perfectly smooth and the sheets pulled tight.

I cringed at the clothes draped over my chair, and the open journal on the nightstand.

“I’ll just...” I tossed the laundry into my hamper, straightened the blankets and closed the journal.