Page 37 of The Backdraft
He mirrored my posture. “I know she tends to date nice, successful, clean-around-the-edges guys. Guys you can bring home to your parents.”
So he wasn’t lying when he said he remembered me from high school. And while I respected the “protective big brother” thing he had going on, people could change, and I had. As much as a person with my past possibly could.
I smirked at him. “Maybe that’s the reason those guys didn’t work out. And she did bring me home.”
Garrett went to say more, but the rest of his family came back, and at the sight of his wife, some of the fight left his eyes. Some, not all. Which meant this conversation wasn’t over, and I didn’t expect it to be.
“Cookie?” Shelby held the plate out to me with a mountain of chocolate chip cookies on it, and despite the fact that I wasn’t big on sweets, I took one. The next few days were likely to be hell, but Shelby Adler’s cooking had proven to be anything but.
SEVENTEEN
DARCY
“You cannot sleep on the couch!” I quietly hissed at Archer once I was sure no one was listening from the other side of my bedroom door. If I had known my dad and Cory were going to follow my mom and I into the kitchen, I never would’ve left. Anytime Linnea or I, but mainly Linnea, had brought a boyfriend home, my golden retriever brother turned into a German shepherd. Meaning, leaving him alone with Archer had been a terrible idea, and I couldn’t trust him not to be posted up outside my bedroom door, waiting for the first sounds of trouble.
“You seriously want us to share a bed?” Archer stared at the object in question as if it had personally offended him.
Rolling my eyes, I brushed past him so I could get to my suitcase. I rifled through everything I’d shoved in there until I found the oversized sleep shirt and cotton shorts I’d packed forsleeping. “We’ve shared a whole hell of a lot more than a bed. I think you’ll be okay. Besides, it’d be awfully strange if my boyfriend slept on the couch.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe your dad or your brother aren’t going to kick the door down in the middle of the night with a rifle aimed at me?”
I laughed. “Okay, one, my dad doesn’t own a gun that I know of, and Garrett carries a pistol, not a rifle.” Archer’s answering scowl was a balm to the tension I’d been carrying all dinner. I enjoyed pushing his buttons far too much. “And two, I’m twenty-eight years old. Now, are you going to turn around so I can change?”
The mention of changing had his eyes running down my body, and then he smirked at me. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you naked, Darcy.”
My mouth popped open but nothing came out. We stared at each other, and not for the first time I thought about how much easier it would be to ignore the pull between us if he were ugly. Why couldn’t he have a hunchback?
“But yes, I’ll turn around.”
Before I could respond, he was turning around. I quickly changed, peeking over my shoulder every now and then to see if he was stealing his own peeks, but true to his word, he stayed turned away. Why did that annoy me?
I pulled the hem of the shirt over my shorts, and untucked my hair from the collar. “Okay, you’re good.” Walking to the edge of the bed, I pulled the covers back and climbed in, adjusting my pillow and lying down.
Archer stood as far away from the bed as he possibly could in my tiny bedroom, hesitance and something darker forming a fog over his mossy eyes. Concern? Fear? No, that wouldn’t make sense.
“You’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor, but it’s hardwood. I wouldn’t recommend it.” When he still didn’t move, or blink, a moment later I sat up. “Arch? For real. It’s fine. I don’t bite.”
That snapped him out of his trance, and his gaze collided with mine, the tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, but I do.”
“Nevermind. You can sleep on the floor.” I flopped back down against the mattress and slammed my eyes shut, willing myself to fall asleep instantly so that I didn’t spend time questioning why he’d bring that up. But then I heard the sound of clothing rustling, and I guess I wasn’t as good as he was because I absolutely peeked. The second I did, however, I knew it was a mistake.
His back was to me, but he’d already disposed of his sweatshirt and T-shirt, leaving the muscular expanse of his back on display. Dark tattoos covered most of him, but I hadn’t taken the time to really inspect them the only other time I’d seen him in this state of undress. Black and gray flames licked up the base of his spine, blending seamlessly into an American flag that ran the rest of the way up to his shoulder. Directly over his spine, was a masked firefighter carrying an axe, his helmet reflecting the flames he was walking into. It was a huge piece, one that had to have taken hours upon hours. My first thought was “Cory needs to see this” which was immediately met with a sinking feeling in my stomach because I . . . what? Wanted to be the only woman to see his back? I needed to get a grip. It was just a back.
A really muscular back.
“Staring is rude, you know.” He’d turned, giving me an eyeful of chiseled abs and more ink. These damn pregnancy hormones had me foaming at the mouth, and I was beginning to think that maybe it really would be best for him to sleep on the floor.
Caught red-handed, and flustered enough, I blurted the first thing that came to mind when I averted my ogling eyes. “Your suitcase is packed like a game of Tetris.”
He walked over to his side of the bed, black sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, and an eyebrow cocked as he nodded in my direction. “Yes, well, some of us don’t want our clothing to be a wrinkled mess.”
“I didn’t peg you for being a type A neat freak, but I guess that makes sense.” I tried to keep my breathing steady as he slid under the covers, the warmth of his body instantly radiating toward me.
“How so?” He was lying on his back, but his head was turned toward mine. In my full-sized bed, we were close enough that I could smell the mint of his toothpaste.
“You looked at my car earlier like it was a dumpster on wheels.”
“You have your whole house haphazardly thrown in there.”
