Page 6 of Loving at 40

“No. No, I really don’t want to be an issue.” I’d been looking forward to this respite of sorts since March when Anna invited me to visit. I didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want to force Archer to go, so I’d just deal with the awkward setup. Anna had already suggested making some rearrangements with her boys and Mason Becker in the house, but I didn’t want to repack my small family’s things and inconvenience everyone else.

“Archer will probably just come and go as he pleases.” Anna scoffs while squinting out at the lake. “But I really believe he’s harmless, as in, he won’t hurt you or the girls.” A sympathetic glance in my direction is reassuring as she knows my history. My husband had never been the issue. Another man had. “He isn’t dangerous or anything.”

Instinctively, I don’t believe Archer would harm me. I might have been startled last night. Who wouldn’t be when an unrecognizable man perches over you in the middle of the night? But hurt me? I just don’t get that vibe from Archer despite my initial reaction. He surprised me, but I don’t fear him, not directly.

“I think we can handle him.” I offer a falsely confident wink because my libido is what concerns me. Being around the slightly mysterious, highly attractive older brother of my best friend is more the issue at hand. My body is saying give it to me while my heart is saying what are you thinking?

As I didn’t want to go home yet, and I actually couldn’t afford a hotel for two weeks, the girls and I will just make do.

How difficult could it be to share an apartment with a man I hardly know but sense could rock my body and spin my heart topsy-turvy?

+ + +

By late afternoon, Ben’s friends arrive at the cottage, which is much more than the term implies. The main house has six bedrooms, most with private baths, plus various entertainment rooms, but the family spends most of their time in the kitchen, which has a large sitting area.

The boys, as Anna’s mother-in-law affectionately calls the forty-something-year-old men, include Mason, Zack, and Logan. I’d met them my junior year of college when Anna and I started hanging out as we shared a major in education.

When Mason Becker arrived, he made himself at home as he had lived here the year Ben was sick. He’s model-worthy gorgeous with artfully perfect hair that curls over his ears and along his neck, plus he has a bone structure that says, I’m an Adonis. He also knows this about himself.

Zack Weller is now the next-door neighbor, having reclaimed his family home. It’s an interesting story, and I look forward to hearing more from the sandy-haired lawyer. Zack has always been a little intense, reserved and guarded against people until he knows them better. He’s been Anna’s friend for her entire life as their mothers were childhood friends.

Logan Anders rounds out the group. He’s newly married to Ben’s sister, Autumn. Logan was the sweet, funny guy among the friends, with a personality just as large as his stature. I almost didn’t recognize him. He’s lost weight, but his face remains innocent and jovial.

“Jenna Babenna,” he greets me, reminding me of our college days. I have great friends in Elk Lake City between Tricia Ramirez, a teacher pal, and Britton Scott, who owns the local tea shop where I used to work during summer months off. Still, this reunion of sorts is a reminder of other days when I was a wild child and a proud single lady until I fell in love with Ryan.

“Logan, I didn’t recognize you without a beer,” I tease him as the party person.

“I’m a changed man,” he pretends to whisper behind his hand.

“That’s what love does to a person,” Mason jokes, slapping his friend on the shoulder and shivering in mock disgust at the emotion. I notice Zack isn’t disagreeing. During dinner, I quickly learn about Logan’s marriage, Zack’s engagement, and the pregnancy of both their women.

“Autumn is pregnant again?” Mason stutters. “You stud.” He high-fives his friend across the table. Logan had a baby boy last summer, named Ben in honor of Autumn’s brother. She wasn’t able to join us tonight for dinner, but she’ll join us at the beach sometime this week.

Zack sheepishly grins about his own announcement. He already has twin boys, who are eight, from his first marriage, but Zack and River, his fiancée, are expecting a little girl.

Archer joins us for dinner but remains quiet throughout the meal. Without meaning to do it, I find myself glancing at him from my position at the table. He’s seated at the head, opposite his sister, and I imagine it’s where Ben once sat. I also wonder how Archer fits into this group. Being older than us, he wasn’t present during our college days, but maybe he spent other time with this crew. His silence tells me he’s been long absent from this collection of friends, though.

During one of the times I’m watching Archer, he glances up at me and offers a slow, crooked smile that doesn’t reach those dark eyes. I don’t shift my gaze when I probably should. His eyes are so expressive while the rest of his face is still and hard. The momentary sorrow of this morning is gone, but his eyes are not relaxed. The depth of them pins me in place again as if he’s trying to tell me something, but I can’t decode what he’s saying.

Is he trying to intimidate me? That isn’t it.

Is he trying to warn me to stay away from him? That is a possibility.

Or is he not pushing but pulling me to him?

My heart beats faster inside my chest. I haven’t been this attracted to another man since my husband. I was a late bloomer in the love category but not in the lust one. I played the field like a champ until I met Ryan. He was everything I’d ever desired in a man—passionate, loyal, kind. Considered short and stocky by some, he was a scrapper on the outside but a teddy bear on the inside. He had a goofy grin that gave away how much he enjoyed life. He was also generous to a fault, which often got him in trouble.

Archer is the complete opposite of my late husband. He is equally solid but larger than Ryan in both shoulder width and height. The distribution of his hard form is also different, almost military in manner. With an edge to his cheeks and a sharp jawline, his rugged voice adds to the tough appearance as he sounds like he’s on the verge of barking orders. His smile isn’t soft but predatory and knowing, like he can interpret all my secret desires with only a glance. He also strategically uses the word fuck in his vocabulary as a noun, verb, adjective, and interjection.

When I finally go to bed later that first night, the sandpapery sound filters into my dreams, telling me all he intends to do to me. His fingers. His tongue. His teeth. My hips thrust to encourage his touch, encouraging him to do what he pleases to me. I haven’t been touched by another hand other than my own in so long, I can hardly remember the sensation. Wetness pools between my thighs, and I moan, thus waking myself.

I’m disorientated at first, wondering where I am and why I’m dreaming of Archer. We hardly spoke during dinner.

“Give me that.” My eldest daughter’s tone rouses me further from the fantasy that leaves me panting, dissatisfied, and clutching the sheet outside my thigh, desperate to reach the release Archer’s fingers promised to give me. I should not be dreaming of Archer doing something to my body, least of all, giving me a long overdue orgasm. I shake my head, trying to restore my bearings, settle my racing heart, and still the ache between my legs.

Working to calm my breathing, which is coming in short, sharp gasps, I blink at the ceiling overhead. It’s morning. My girls and I slept in the same bedroom in the garage apartment. Knowing they are early risers, Talia had strict instructions to wake me when they woke. Although I’d warned my girls not to wander into the other room without me, they are both absent. Even on vacation, I wasn’t going to get any sleep.

I explained to Talia how the apartment belongs to Archer, and he was going to sleep in the other bedroom. My eldest girl is suspicious of most things, while Rosie has no fear. Knowing Talia was my worrier, I tried to assure her she had nothing to be concerned about with Archer—at least, I hope not. Anna had repeatedly told me yesterday that she trusted Archer with her life, even though she hadn’t seen him in years.