Page 16 of My Darling Mayhem

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Thanks for checking on it, but I can—" My croaky voice cut off as my neighbor shifted, lowering my ankle. Then, withoutasking, he scooped me into his arms and lifted me until I was cradled against his chest.

"What are you?—"

He peered over his shoulder at my son and gestured toward his truck. "Cruz, get your backpack and your mama's purse, I'm going to take you to school."

"What? No…we don't." I panicked, my breaths too shallow, so I tried again, "I don't want to inconvenience you."

His hands weren't touching any part of me that was inappropriate, and yet being able to smell the spicy, citrusy scent that I had gravitated toward so strongly yesterday, this close, made me feel strange. I tried to lean away from his chest to create some sort of distance between us, but he shifted so I was back under his chin.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to help. You're not an inconvenience." His lips moved close to the side of my face, and the heat from his breath was like a shockwave that burned through me all the way down to my toes.

Had he forgiven me? Did the peace pie work?

"Cruz, hop in the back with Kane." Archer walked around the front of the truck as I watched my son climb up on the extended step and pull the back door open. Kane was already in the back seat and excitedly awaited Cruz to join him.

"Can you open that for me?" Archer asked as he paused next to the passenger side door.

I extended my palm and lifted the handle, allowing the door to open. Archer gently set me in the seat, but not without shifting his hands to the front of my thighs, then slowly moving his palm down my calf. I inhaled a sharp breath, which I hoped he'd assume was because of the pain.

"You going to be okay like this until I get you to the doctor?"

No one had touched me like this in years. No one to care if I'd gotten to the doctor or was safe. His concern did somethingto me. It softened some titanium piece of metal that had lined my defenses. It angered me while also making me so grateful I wanted to cry. The fight I usually had reserved to keep men like this away dissolved instantly, and instead, I simply nodded.

His eyes wandered to my lips for the briefest moment before flitting away. "Give me your car keys."

His palm extended to me, and my brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Need Cruz's booster seat. Kane has to use one, and I'm assuming Cruz is still in one, too."

Oh.

That was incredibly considerate of him to think of; I hadn't even had the forethought to remember my son's booster. My face dipped, digging through my purse and handing the set of keys over to him.

Once he gently shut the door, I watched him walk back toward my car and pull out my son's car seat. An odd lump formed in my throat as I watched him. He didn't seem hurried, annoyed, or like this bothered him. Those thick motorcycle boots carried him back to the truck, the gray and black booster in his arms as he opened the back passenger door.

"Scoot over, buddy, and I'll set this up for you," Archer said softly to Cruz.

The draft from the cool air filled the cab as Archer stood there, adjusting the seat, and then he had Cruz crawl into it.

"I can do the buckles myself," Cruz bragged excitedly. I turned to look over my shoulder right as Archer smiled at my son.

"Yeah? Why don't you show me, and then I'll give them a good tug to see if they're tight."

Cruz buckled the one over his chest and the one near his hips as if he were being timed. "See!"

Archer tugged on the two restraints, acting like he'd lost all this strength. "You did too good of a job, Cruz. How are you that strong, buddy?"

My son laughed, and it was a sound I wanted locked in my head, like a favorite song on repeat. Archer gave me a quick glance and then shut Cruz's door.

The heater continued to blast warm air as the boys chatted in the back seat, and once Archer took his spot behind the wheel, he turned it with extreme caution as if he were transporting something precious.

I bit my cheek to hold off the tears welling up. I'd been hurt plenty in my life. This was nothing new, but there was some tiny ping of pain trailing from being at the mercy of a man that I didn't even want living in my neighborhood. Pride was a fickle, cumbersome thing to carry around.

Archer kept one hand on the wheel while shifting at the waist, reaching for the glove box. His hand brushed against my kneecap as he pulled the compartment open, which had me glaring at him.

"Relax." He grabbed the bottle of pain reliever and tossed it in my lap before gently slamming the box shut.

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