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“Hi, Archer,” Daphne mumbles, retreating into her shell.
My brother’s eyes zero in on Layla. “Neighbor.” He tips his chin.
“Hey.” Layla purses her lips and looks away.
Archer lowers his eyes, still trying to catch hers. “You good?”
“Great.” My bestie flashes a quick, wide smile before glancing away again.
All righty, then.
I get up to throw away some dirty plates and cups, and Archer follows me across the kitchen. “So how’s the new job?” he asks me, leaning against the sink, his arms folded across his chest.
I shrug. “It’s getting me out of the house,” I say, glossing over all the drama with a certain infuriating co-worker of mine. “What have you been up to?”
“I’m building a fence around my property,” he huffs out.
“What do you need a fence for?” I snort. “Your nearest neighbor is barely within shouting distance.”
He levels me with a serious look. “I have a peeping doe.”
“A what?” I blink.
He glances warily over his back for eavesdroppers. Then he lowers his voice. “There’s this deer who’s been peeping into my window at night.”
I can’t help but chortle loudly. It feels good to laugh. I haven’t done much of that today. “So you mean to tell me that my big, tough lumberjack brother is getting bullied by a harmless four-legged creature?”
“I feel so violated, Karli. No joke,” he sputters pitifully.
I suppress another laugh, clapping him on the shoulder. “You better build that fence tall, then.”
“That’s the plan.” Archer grabs a bag of ice from the freezer. “If you feel like throwing a hammer around, come join me. I pay in beer.”
My shoulder juts up and then I let it fall. “I just might.”
Archer heads toward the back door, nodding toward my friends. “Well, you girls have a good night.”
“You, too,” Daphne calls with her usual little smile.
My brother’s attention turns to Layla. He eyeballs the untouched glass of wine in front of her. “Let me know if you need a ride home…”
“I’ll be fine—”
Archer cuts her off in a low, husky voice. “Let…me…know.”
Well,dayum, Brother. What the heck is going on here?
Layla nods slowly. “Okay. Thanks.”
Archer tenderly touches the baby’s head and then he silently walks out of the kitchen.
My brain is buzzing with all sorts of questions about that odd moment. What the hell is up with Archer? And why is Layla acting so weird around him? What the hell did I miss while I was away at college? Hell—do I even want to know the answer to those questions?!
But before I can decide, Layla hurriedly picks up the conversation and changes the subject.
“I want to hear more about this new living situation of yours,” she demands, wiggling her brows. “Speaking of which, where is your hot roomie tonight?”
“Dr. Pretty Boy? He went home to visit his family. I’ve got the house all to myself this weekend,” I brag, wiggling my shoulders.
