Page 4 of Loving at 40

“What?” I have no idea what the hell she wants me to do about this situation. “You’re the one who invited her here. You fix this.” I wave out a hand. “This house has six bedrooms. What the hell is anyone doing out in the garage anyway?”

“You said a bad word,” the blond girl states before disappearing behind her mother’s legs again. Those long, tan legs drag to the floor from jean shorts cuffed near the apex of them. My tongue wants to trace that length from ankle to center and then—

“He did say a bad word, didn’t he, Rosie?” Anna coos again. “Bad Archer.”

“I’m not a fu—” I cut the word short as two sets of adult female eyes glare at me. “A dog,” I finish. I’m not some errant pooch they’re coddling as they insult me. I’m a fucking man who can say whatever the fuck I want. Only, those little eyes peek around her mother’s legs once more, and my heart does a little skip.

What the hell?

“Yes, we have six rooms, but the boys are coming back,” Anna states, facing me.

“What boys?”

“Mason.”

“That’s one man.” Mason Becker was a friend of Ben’s and had a serious boner for my sister when he was younger. Ben was the better man, and he got the girl. Why Ben remained friends with the wanker is a mystery.

“Zack and his boys are going to stay in the house as well,” Anna states.

“That’s ridiculous. They live next door.” Zack Weller is a family friend. Our mothers were best friends from when they were growing up, and the Wellers were our neighbors here at Lakeside until their dad turned out to be a dick. The older son, Noah, is my age, and we’ve been pals most of our lives. I don’t understand all the particulars on how Zack ended up back next door, but he’s over there, so I don’t know why he needs to stay here.

“And Logan’s coming for a few nights as well.”

“Logan Anders?” Logan was the final guy in the foursome of Ben’s friends. He joined their little crew once the others all went off to college. A little over a year ago, he married Ben’s younger sister, which sounds all kinds of wrong until you consider he was forty and she was in her late thirties. They live half a mile down the street. “What the f—” I cut myself off again and catch two little blue beams staring at me. Her thumb has popped into her mouth. Taking a deep breath, I clench my fists and glare at my sister. Through gritted teeth, I ask, “Why would Logan stay here?”

“They promised Ben.” The statement is said as if it’s all the explanation I need and explains everything, which it doesn’t.

“I should really go,” Jenna interjects, reminding me why I’m having this argument with my sister. “We can just get a hotel room for the weekend and then head home.”

“No.” Anna protests as she reaches for her friend’s hand. “It’s summertime. You’ll never find a hotel with vacant rooms around here. Plus, I don’t want you to go home. Three hours is too far away. It’s also your summer vacation, and school will start too soon. You need this.” Anna’s voice softens. “I need this. I need you.”

I have no idea what she means other than the summer vacation part. My sister is a high school teacher.

Jenna’s eyes shift to mine a second before glancing back at my sister. “I don’t really want to go either, but . . .” She side-eyes me again, looking a little forlorn and heartbroken at the prospect of returning to wherever she’s from and giving up her time at the beach. Instantly, I recall her flinching as I raised my hand last night, preparing to brush her hair out of her face. I thought she just didn’t want my touch, but is it something more? Is she hiding from someone? Is she escaping from him? Protecting others is part of my nature, but it’s strange how quickly the need comes as I look at Jenna.

Damn, I hate the idea of someone hurting her or those two little girls standing beside her.

If escape is all she wants, then I understand. I just wanted to come here and get out of my head. The doc said I needed a change of pace for a bit. As Jenna’s gaze falls back to me for a second, something in those coffee-colored eyes claws at my chest, and it fucking cuts. It cuts deep, and I should know as I’ve been stabbed a time or two.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “You don’t have to leave,” I mutter. Her eyes widen in surprise but quickly narrow in distrust. “We can just share the place.”

“She can’t stay there with you,” Anna defends.

“Why not?” I snap. What’s wrong with me? Yet even I don’t want to answer that question. “It’s my place. I’m not leaving.”

“I can go,” Jenna says, reassuring me, but those eyes—crap. She’s gutting me with only a look. It’s not an intentional look meant to harm, but something in those eyes tells me she needs to stay. I want her to stay. Maybe she needs me. What am I thinking? The ridiculous thought is quickly chased out of my head.

“No, Archer can go,” Anna says.

“What?” I choke.

“No,” Jenna and I respond at the same time. Her head swivels from Anna to me and back, forcing the messy knot on the top of her head to wobble. Taking a second glance at her, I notice a stain on her white shirt and remember all the times she knocked into something last night. Her face on the doorframe and then her heel. I didn’t miss the hiss of pain after she bumped into the couch and collided with the coffee table. She’d be horrible at covert missions. She made more noise than an elephant storming through the jungle.

“No, I’ll go,” Jenna offers once more.

“I want you to stay.” What the fuck am I saying? The words come out of nowhere and startle both of us. My fingers unfurl and then clench again.

“Really, I can just leave,” she argues one more time, but I’m getting tired of this game.