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“They’re pretty similar. Aunt Thea is giving you a little more time before she starts pushing you.”
“True. Mom isn’t happy that I’m skipping Greyson’s birthday. Tucker threatened to cut my video calls with Mae if I didn’t visit soon.”
He gasps dramatically. “That’s a major threat.”
“I know, more so when he and Sage are trying to have another baby.”
“That’s good, right? You’ll be coming around more.”
A baby is a pretty good incentive to drag me back to Seattle. “I’ll try.”
“Hey, I’m being paged. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Thank you for the call, and be sure to take a break, don’t work so much.”
“You too.” He laughs before hanging up.
“You hear that, Archer? Come back soon so you can catch up with me,” I say, but no one answers.
This thing of talking to the universe, hoping he’ll respond, isn’t working as well as I thought.
“Just come back to me, okay?”
One day he’ll answer, and then we’ll never leave each other’s sides.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Piper
June22nd
My last patient leaves at eight. I know working on a Saturday is unhealthy, but they needed me.
I order takeout and go up to the roof with a bottle of wine. Mom called early today to make sure I couldn’t make it to Grey’s birthday party. As much as I wanted to celebrate with them, I just couldn’t.
Tomorrow is the ninth anniversary of the first time Archer and I made love. It was our first time. The first of many… until now.
Disregard all the negative thoughts,I remind myself.He’s coming home, you know it.
He is, isn’t he?
“Any moment now,” I say out loud. “Just walk up here, and I’ll…” What would I do?
“It’s a little hard to arrive when you didn’t send an invite,” I hear a baritone coming from the rooftop of the other building.
As I turn, I see him.
An unexpected presence. A man with handsome features. He could be a model, an actor, or just one of the most beautiful men I’ve seen in my life. It’s hard to describe him because even though he looks like he could be some former preppy boy from a fraternity, he’s also rugged.
Tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair. His presence is as strong as his body. His dark soulful eyes almost crinkle. His surreal presence might be a by-product of the lights on top of the overpass between buildings.
He serves me with a wicked grin before saying, “Hey, gorgeous.” His low baritone hum leaves me breathless.
The whole combo is a punch to my system, a shock to my entire body. I should stop him, tell him not to walk over to where I’m at, but I’m speechless.
“Your eyes are beautiful,” he says when we’re face to face.
The line cools me down one hundred degrees. I’m back to my usual persona. “Seriously, you start with ‘Your eyes are beautiful?’”
