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Archer
I silence my alarm as fast as I can, hoping it doesn’t wake Willow. She’s still sound asleep, and I let out a slow breath of relief. I had no idea some asshole was going to barrel through her life yesterday when I went to see her. But he did, and I was in the right place at the right time.
Now I have the most beautiful, down-to-earth woman I’ve met in a really long time in my bed. Even though she’s still practically a stranger, I have to convince her to marry me because my dumb ass got into a shit ton of trouble. Willow’s a businesswoman, and that takes risks, so I hope I can make this arrangement worth her while.
Thinking about what to say, I skip my morning workout and head to the kitchen to make her breakfast. Figures roll around in my head like they always do, and a plan forms as I throw fresh produce into the blender. Without thinking about the noise, I turn it on, making smoothies for the both of us, then toss some eggs into a skillet. I still have a few hours before work, but I decide to text Tracy that I’ll be working remotely for the day. I don’t tell her the reason, and she knows better than to ask. I’ve never called in before, but I need time with Willow, and I might be able to help her with the mess from yesterday.
As I push around the eggs in the skillet, overthinking every scenario imaginable, I hear a soft yawn behind me. Turning, I find a sleepy-eyed goddess with flowing blue hair taking a seat at my island.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you? I had planned to bring everything to you and let you sleep as long as you wanted.”
Her smile is bright, and for some strange reason, it gives me a weird feeling in my chest. It’s cute, but damn. I don’t need to be feeling anything for this woman. I have to strike a deal and keep it professional, so no one gets hurt, and I don’t end up with the wife of my mom’s dreams.
“No, it’s fine. Totally worth it if you’re going to feed me.”
“Yep. Would you like some coffee, too? I made you a smoothie,” I say, pointing to the berry-blue drink next to her plate.
She nods her head excitedly as I lay everything out on the table. I hurry to get the coffeepot with a laugh. As we settle into a comfortable silence and dig into breakfast, I chew on my plan and how to best launch it.
“So, I was thinking I would take the day off and help you with your shop.” She gives me a curious look, so I decide to go on. “Ok, I should say, I already took the day off and planned on helping you wherever you find me most useful.” I hold my hands up, stopping all the objections she has on the tip of her tongue. “Look, I know you don’t need me or my help, but I can’t very well save your life, then just throw you back into the vicious world.” I use my best grin, the one that’s known to get me whatever I want, and by the smile she’s trying to hide, I think it’s working.
“I guess that’s an excellent point.”
Her smile grows behind her coffee mug, and I take the win gracefully before she changes her mind. I rattle off different things that she might need to get done, and before I realize it, I’ve given a board-room-like speech, and she’s laughing softly behind her hand.
“I’m sorry.” I laugh a bit, too.
“No, no, it’s fine. You’re just trying to help, and I appreciate it. That much structure just isn’t my style.” Her shrug is adorable, and I find myself wanting to know exactly what her style is.
“Whatever you want. You take the lead, but I am going to help.” My statement has her eyes softening, a look that I won’t forget easily. I dwell on it far too long, and we fall into a comfortable silence as we finish breakfast.
She takes a shower first, and we both get ready. I had my concierge buy a few things for her, and as reluctant as she is to accept my gifts, she thanks me, knowing she doesn’t have much of a choice. I take the closet to let her get ready in the bedroom, but my mind stays on her. I choose jeans and a t-shirt, an outfit I rarely get to wear.
My imagination runs away with me as I think about her taking her clothes off in my room. Is she laying there naked, waiting for me to come out? Unlikely, but it makes my dick hard just thinking about it. I want to see all the artwork, every line ever drawn on her body… then I want to trace it with my tongue.
* * *
When we finally make ourway to what remains of Moxie Misfit Tattoo Parlor, Willow’s steps slow until she stops completely and just stares. We’re across the street looking at the taped-off building, and she seems frozen on the sidewalk. I lean into her and softly place a comforting arm around her back.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah. Of course. I’m ff-fine,” she stutters a bit and doesn’t sound fine.
“We don’t have to do this today.” And to be honest, the place is unstable. I have a feeling this is more for her anxiety than getting anything accomplished.
She takes a step away from me and makes her way across the street with her chin up. I know she’s not feeling as brave as she’s acting, but I’ll just stay close and hope I can help. I won’t push her.
The front of the building has collapsed, including the second story, which was her home, and half of a couch is now sticking out the front window, or at least what looks like it. I watch her as she carefully moves around, making it deeper into the shop. I follow behind, and as she takes pictures of the damage for her insurance, she gets a phone call and informs me her brother and his wife are coming by to help. Her manager, Ally, would also be coming by.
“My brother is a really great guy; he’s just a bit overbearing,” she tells me.
“Older brother?” I ask, reaching for any information I can get before he gets here. I know if I am going to convince her to consider my proposal, I need her brother to like me. If he doesn’t, I can kiss this plan goodbye.
“Yep. Only by three years, but you would think a lot more. He’s definitely overprotective. His wife, Lyla, was in danger the year before last, and it was terrible.”
She looks like she wants to say more but holds back and picks up a broken piece of a tile. Protective. That’s a loaded word. I need more information to work with.
“What do you mean by overprotective?”
