She yanked the door closed and shoved the car into Reverse, backing away from the pillars in preparation of turning around. Whatever was out there—mountain lion or worse—was welcome to the kibble.
Nell would buy another bag and make sure she didn’t come out here again except when it was still light.
She shifted out of Reverse and started to turn the car, but the shape was barreling toward her and when it crossed her headlights, she realized that it wasn’t an animal at all.
It was Archer.
She shoved the car into Park and launched out of the car, barreling right back toward him. She reached the pillars at the same time that he did, and shoved her hands against the solid plane of his chest.
The fact that he was laughing infuriated her even more.
“You’re supposed to be in Denver! You scared the peanuts out of me!” She went to shove him again, but he was leaning over, hands on his thighs as he laughed even harder.
“I thought you were a bear or something!” She kicked at the ground, which was covered with the kibble that had sprayed out of the bag when she’d thrown it.
He closed his hand over her shoulder, holding her in place. His face was pale in the headlights but the broad smile on his face was brilliant. “And you what? Thought you’d ward off the bear with kitty kibble?”
She kicked more nuggets of said kitty kibble over his legs. Now that her silly panic was assuaged, she didn’t want to acknowledge the smile struggling to get free. “I thought you were out of town,” she repeated.
“I was.” He was still cupping her shoulder and when he turned and gestured with his other hand into the darkness beyond the headlights, his arm just seemed to naturally slide around her shoulders altogether. “My truck’s parked right over there. How’d you miss it?”
She shrugged his arm off before too many of her cells could remember how much they liked the contact. “Maybe because I was concentrating on feeding a cat that I don’t even believe exists!” She let out a loud breath and tugged at the hem of her blouse that had escaped her waistband. “But now you’re back, which means I am off that particular hook.” She started marching back to her car.
“Oh, come on, Nell.” Archer followed her. “Relax. Come on up to the house at least. I was just about to put a steak on the grill when I saw your headlights.” He caught her hand as she reached for the door.
“It’s late and I have things to do.” She ignored the warmth streaking up her arm.
“What things? Fighting moths?”
She let out a frustrated sound. “It doesn’t matter what things!”
“Then whatever they are can wait.” He squeezed her hand slightly. Cajoling. “Come on. You can fill me in on Vivian’s project. I worry about her.”
The sound she let out then was nothing but pure scoff. “Vivian’s the last person you need to worry about. She runs circles around everyone.”
“Yeah.” His thumb brushed a small, distracting circle over the back of her hand. “But she also has an inoperable brain tumor, so humor me.”
It took a moment for the words to penetrate. “I... What?”
“She wouldn’t appreciate me telling you, either. She prefers to choose who, and when, she shares that information with so try not to throw me under the bus next time you see her.”
No longer in the line of the headlights, all she had to see him by was the light from inside her car and the proliferation of stars punctuating the sky overhead. She peered hard at him. “You’re not joking.”
“Not about that.”
She let out a long, long breath. “A tumor.”
“Yes, a tumor. Fortunately, it’s small and hasn’t caused any bad episodes in over a year, but there are no guarantees. It’s a situation that could turn on a dime. Anytime. Anywhere. She has tests every few months, monitoring it.”
Nell finally tugged her hand away from him and ducked into the car. She turned off the engine and it ticked softly in the sudden silence.
Her mother had died of a brain aneurysm.
No warning. No preparation.
She closed her eyes for a moment. The car engine ticked twice more.
Then she straightened again, closed the door and faced him. “I hope you have two steaks, because I haven’t had a chance to eat all day.”
Chapter Seven
“Could have pulled your car up to the house,” Archer told her for the third time when they reached the house after a fair piece of walking. “It would have saved you walking all that way in those plain Jane grandma shoes of yours.”
She huffed. She’d chosen the shoes because they were leather with chunky heels of a sensible height that worked perfectly for an associate lawyer who usually was racing from one courtroom to another. She’d owned them for years and had already had them resoled. Twice. “If I were wearing shoes like your grandmother wears, I would have.” So far, Nell hadn’t seen Vivian wear the same shoes twice. They were all quite high-heeled, and they all screamed “designer.”
“Yeah, she does like her shoes, doesn’t she?” He took two steps in one as he vaulted up the wood stairs near the corner of the house.
She’d seen the structure only from a distance up to now, of course. She still hadn’t seen a guesthouse at all, which made her think he’d made that up just to yank her chain.
It would be typical Archer behavior.
She followed him up the steps to the wood deck lining the front three sides of the house, past a fancy gas grill that put the little charcoal thing next to the pool at the Cozy Night to shame, and through a door that opened into his kitchen.
It was
