Page 79 of Loving at 40

“You seduced her,” I clarify.

He doesn’t look at me but shakes his head as if disagreeing with me. “How could I do such a thing, right?” He pauses. “And then I just did.”

“Did you love her?”

Archer hangs his head lower and cups the back with his thick hands. “I didn’t know what to feel. Most days, I despised her, but on rare occasions, she could be human and almost sweet. I knew we’d never have a future. She was the enemy. She was my assignment, but there were brief moments I wondered if I could love her. If I could save her.”

Archer scrubs both hands down his face and pauses his fingertips on his lips. “She didn’t want to be saved. She didn’t have a moral compass. And she didn’t love me. Not really.” He turns to look at me over his shoulder. “She couldn’t love me because she didn’t know me. Romance was all part of the mission.”

My lips twist, reading the conflict on his face. The stress in his eyes. The strain on his cheeks. He’s struggling with his past actions.

“How do you know she didn’t want to be saved?”

“I asked her to marry me. More staging. The night of the engagement party, it came out who I was. An undercover agent for the DEA. I asked her to come with me and told her I could protect her. She was confused, maybe even hurt, and everything got all mixed up after that. Her father was suddenly present and threatening me, and then bullets flew. I shot him. She shot me.”

His eyes close. “She told me I was a despicable human being. That no woman would ever love me like she had. ‘You don’t deserve to be loved’ were her exact words.” His lids flip open, and he hesitantly glances at me over his shoulder again. “That wasn’t love.”

Who says such a thing to someone? Then again, I sympathize for a moment with her position. She believed in Archer. She trusted him. She let him into her bed and possibly into her heart, even if her behavior was unethical. The grief in his face also gives me empathy for Archer. He did what he had to do for the assignment, and it messed with his head. Maybe even his heart a little as well. It definitely was weighing on his conscience.

“While I was recovering from my wound, I was told I was removed from the investigation. Her father was dead. He was the mastermind, but there is always a second-in-command. The assumption Vi would take over was legit, and she was under surveillance. The department didn’t want me involved. I was too laid up to be part of the team and spent almost eight months in extensive physical therapy, as I told you, along with counseling.” He points at his temple. “They worried the relationship screwed me up.”

“Didn’t it?” He was engaged to her!

“It did to some extent,” he easily admits. “I hated myself for what I’d done. She wasn’t a horrible person, just a person making bad decisions based on her environment. But she also wasn’t a child and could have made new choices for herself.”

He takes a deep breath. “The harder part is I believed what she said. That I am despicable. I didn’t deserve love. I’d never find someone who loves me. Not that I want someone like her.” He huffs. “Just in general.”

He side-eyes me but doesn’t turn in my direction.

“I believed I didn’t deserve the family I had. I no longer had friends. I didn’t think I’d ever have a chance with a normal woman.”

I huff at the statement, and Archer shifts. “But then I met you . . . and you’re just, fuck. You’re a light at the end of a deep dark tunnel, Jenna. You were so different, and it was refreshing. Fucking reviving.” He waves his hand between us. “I just want to soak it all up, but I understand I messed up. I had to leave, though. I had to keep you safe, and the less time you spent within Vi’s orbit, the safer you were. I needed her to forget you, and the only way to do that was to force her to concentrate on me.”

“But why didn’t you come back?”

“I couldn’t risk her following me or knowing where I’d been staying. I didn’t want to put any of you in danger.”

It all makes perfect sense. But . . . “It’s been three months. You told the girls your job was finished. What happened?”

Archer falls back into the couch cushions and huffs before scrubbing at his face. “She got me on the boat, but it was being tracked. I took a huge risk and jumped overboard.”

My mouth falls open. “You jumped off the boat?”

“Well, I actually flipped myself overboard as one of her goonies shot at me.”

“Archer!” I shriek, recalling he’d said he’d been shot at again.

“The boat when up in flames less than half an hour later. Later, I was informed the department had been watching her, and the Coast Guard had been warned of possible drug trafficking up the east side of the lake. CG wasn’t wasting time, so they pursued her as the boat was a dark-moving vessel. Very suspicious. As for the explosion, there was an investigation, and that’s why I was detained. I didn’t know anything, but the department had to be certain. Plus, I was a good source of information on enemies of the Quinteros. Tampering with the wires would make the explosion look like an electrical malfunction. The yacht going up in flames would seem like nothing more than a boating accident caused by faulty equipment. Viviana wouldn’t be missed, and neither would the shipment on board. I wasn’t involved, just a barnacle on their plan. But that had to be confirmed.”

“So she’s dead?”

Archer glances down at his lap. “She is.”

Wow. Just wow. “How do you feel about that?” I ask, softening the question.

“Guilty as charged,” he whispers. Guilty of seducing her and maybe breaking her heart.

“What she said wasn’t true, though, Archer. You must know that. You are not despicable. You are not unloveable, and you are definitely worthy of love.”