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There’s question one. “Don’t laugh at me,” I start, but he answers for me, his tone smug.
“Let me guess.” He pauses for dramatic effect. He’s having way too much fun with this and the conversation has only just begun. “Marina Knight.”
I don’t bother responding for a few seconds. I don’t need to. He knows he’s irritating the shit out of me. When his chuckle grows into full-out laughter, I’m ready to end the call.
“How did you make that happen?” he finally asks when he gets his laughter under control.
Question number two. “I convinced her I was a good guy and now she wants to date me.” Lies, all lies. Like I can tell him the truth.
I fucked her against a wall in her bakery. Hottest sex of my life. Dying to do it again.
“I call bullshit.”
Well hell, now I’m offended. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
“You badmouthed her family. The Molinas and the Knights, they’re all about the family. You breathe one bad word against them and they’re ready to take you down and tear you apart. Every single one of them acts that way,” Archer explains.
I remember her Aunt Gina calling me Rat Boy. That sounded rather... mobbish. Is that even a word? “You make them sound like the mob,” I mutter, glancing about my temporary office. I’m staying at a house I purchased a few months ago in St. Helena. It’s cute, small, and very old. Needs major renovations—we’re talking a total overhaul—and I’ve been getting bids on the job over the last few days. Its central location makes it the ideal place to stay while I’m here in Napa.
“Rumor has it they might be, though I doubt it,” Archer says, his tone serious.
“Mob ties, give me a break,” I mutter, more than ready to change the subject. “Listen, she wants to talk to you.” I’d fibbed a little when I called Marina. I’d left a message with Archer when I couldn’t get a hold of him and grew too anxious waiting for him so I broke down and called her anyway.
I knew I could get him to see her, but I haven’t confirmed anything yet. I just wanted to call her. Listen to her voice. Imagine the way she sounded last night when she whispered my name as I sunk particularly deep inside her tight, wet body—
“Talk to me about what?”
“Yeah, it’s about business. She won’t tell me what exactly, but Marina says she has a proposition for you and she kept meaning to call you but hasn’t yet,” I explain.
“Huh, wonder why she hasn’t called. I’ve talked to her a few times. Nothing extensive, though.” He makes a noise; I can hear him shift in his chair, the unmistakable creak comingthrough loud and clear. “When do you want to go on this momentous double date?”
“Tonight? Maybe?” I wince, waiting for his answer.
“You gotta be kidding me.Tonight?You expect us to re-arrange our schedules for you or what?” Archer sounds a little angry, mostly amused. His favorite thing to do is give me shit.
“I need to get in her good graces so she’ll introduce me to her father,” I explain. Well, that’s part of it. I also just want to see her again. Want to talk to her, argue with her a little, until she gets that angry little shine in her eyes, and I become so tempted I lean over and kiss her.
“Really.” Archer sounds doubtful.
“Yeah. Really. The guy has been giving me the complete shut-out for months. I’m dying to talk to him.” Negotiate with him. Make Scott Knight a deal he can’t refuse.
“Ah, so there’s the heart of the matter.” Archer makes a tsking noise. “You’re not trying to get in her pants. You’re hoping to get in her dad’s back pocket.”
He’s making me feel like shit and I refuse to. Besides, I’ve already gotten into her pants.
Yeah, you are such an asshole.
“You’re not going to guilt me over this.” I do that well enough on my own.
“Whatever. I understand. It’s just business.” Archer sighs heavily. “Let me talk to Ivy, but I think we can do this. I’ve got no major plans going on, and I don’t think she does either.”
“Thanks, bro,” I say. “I appreciate you doing this so last minute.” I mean it.
“No problem. I’ve called you begging to help me out so many times, I’ve lost count,” Archer jokes, though really, he’s serious.
He’s the one who usually needs to be bailed out, rescued, whatever. Our friendship has always had that balance. Archer’s the fuckup; I’m the one who cleans up the aftermath. Or saves his ass.
Whichever is needed first.
