Page 52 of Loving at 40

“Archer . . . I can’t . . . and the girls . . .” They’re in the other room, but the door blocks where I’m hiding, and Archer doesn’t relent. His lips keep coasting over mine, teasing them to open but not pressuring me to rush. Another suck of my bottom lip. Another stroke of his tongue. Finally, my arms wrap around him as I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t holding him in return to his embrace. Then my mouth falls open, and I kiss him as I had earlier. Mouth wide. Tongue seeking. Teeth looking for the ledge of his lip.

“Archer,” I whimper against him.

“Like when you say my name, Jenna,” he grunts in that voice that makes my name an endearment all its own. When he makes me sound like I’m important to him. My name makes me special, like a two-syllable love song.

“Keep kissing me,” he groans, giving back to me what I give, allowing myself to fall against his body in gratitude and relief. He continues to kiss me, distract me, rid my thoughts until my heart comes down from one high only to stir up another. Sensing the shift, as my body clings to his, he slowly pulls back, offering softer kisses as he retreats. A final swirl of his tongue. One last pull at my lip. Then a grin against my mouth.

“Better?” His forehead rests against mine.

I close my eyes. “I don’t know,” I honestly admit, wondering how I could be kissing him like I don’t have a care in the world when my baby just dangled and fell from a tree fort.

“What do you need then?” His fingers absently stroke my hair over my ear.

Him. I need him to bring me down and stabilize me when stuff like this happens. I need him to catch my daughter when she falls and kiss me like crazy to distract my racing thoughts. I need him to say my name like it means something to him. Mostly, I need him to forgive me for this morning, calling out a name I didn’t mean to say. I’m not thinking of Ryan. I’m thinking of Archer. All. The. Time.

“I need to get out of here. I need an activity. Something to burn off this . . . this energy.” I wave a hand, finding myself slowly rebuilding the tension of Rosie’s situation.

“You up for an adventure, ’Locks?”

I don’t know how much more excitement I can handle, but I need something to concentrate on.

“What did you have in mind?”

“You trust me, babe?” His eyes search mine, and for a second, it feels as if he’s asking me something deeper than merely to partake in an activity.

“I trust you,” I whisper.

“Then put on your bathing suit and pack some snacks.” He presses off the wall with a mischievous grin and rounds the open door, entering the living area to address the girls.

“Princess and pirate, how do you feel about a water park?”

+ + +

Spending the day at a water park is the last thing I expected Archer to recommend. I hadn’t even known of the place, but I don’t question how Archer did. I followed his lead. He drove my SUV because of the car seats needed for Rosie and Talia, and we spent the day with squeals and laughter, flinging ourselves down spiraling slides and splashing around in the tidal wave pool.

It was exactly what we needed.

“Such a beautiful family,” an older woman eventually says to me, nodding in the direction of Rosie and Talia with Archer, and I can’t find it in my heart to correct her.

We aren’t a family. But could we be? Archer fits too seamlessly with us.

I can already see a bond between the wild spirit of Rosie and Archer. He encourages her risk-taking nature under his protection while nudging Talia to take chances with his guidance. Rosie relaxes around Archer, allowing him to fling them down the tall slides with her on his lap for safety. Talia gives in to his assurances he wouldn’t let her drown as he tosses her into the tidal wave pool and quickly rescues her to prove his point.

He’s so good with the girls, and I dismiss all the worries that occasionally creep into my head. The ones that remind me Archer is limited in his time with us. The ones that tell me that allowing my girls to get closer to him is a bad idea. The same ones that warn me not to open my heart to a man kissing me senseless and snuggling me into him.

By late afternoon, the girls are water-logged, and we decide on a pizza dinner before we return to the large cottage. Monday manicures and margaritas are on the docket, but I don’t have the energy.

“Just go, babe,” Archer tells me after our early dinner. “I’ve got the girls.”

The husbandly-sounding statement pinches my heart. I still don’t understand how this man wasn’t married and why he doesn’t have children of his own. He’s been undercover and absent from his family, but he’s trying to work his way back to them. He spends time with his nephews. He hangs out with the reunion crew. Is it all temporary to him? Or could this time be more permanent? He’s a good man underneath the gruff voice and tough act. He could be a decent family man.

“It’s been such a long day,” I remind him as he’s pulling into the driveway at Anna’s. I don’t want to disappoint my friend by missing her weekly girls’ night with River and Autumn, but I don’t have the heart for manicures or margaritas tonight.

“But you’re here for Anna. She wants you to go with her.” His comment has me tilting my head as he parks my SUV. Suddenly, he’s more Team Anna. I’m skeptical and suspicious.

“Why are you pushing so much?”

“I’m not pushing. I just think you should go. It’s been a long day. Take some time off for yourself. Pamper your pretty toes and drink a margarita or two to keep you out of your head.”