Archer's Voice

CHAPTER 25

Bree

I drove over to Archer's and called his name when I walked in the gate. No answer, and so I walked down to his front door and knocked, calling his name again. Still no answer. The door was unlocked and so I went in and looked around. As always, it was neat and tidy, but there was no sign of him. He must be somewhere on his property, too far to hear me calling, or maybe he walked to town?
I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote him a quick note about how my friends were in town and that I'd explain when I saw him. I told him where we were going to dinner and asked him to join us. I hoped he would. I hoped that coming to the diner had made him feel comfortable enough to come out again. I wanted to introduce him to my friends. I wanted him to be a part of every aspect of my life.
I drove back home and finished getting ready and then Natalie and Jordan and I drove into town to the local pool hall/pizza place for a very casual dinner.
We ordered a large pizza and then brought it over to a table next to one of the dartboards and started a game.
We were a half a pitcher of beer in when I looked up and Archer was at the door. The grin that spread over my face was instantaneous and I dropped the dart in my hand and ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him on his mouth.
He let out a breath that felt as if he'd been holding it all day. I leaned back, looking up into his face, seeing a tension there that I wasn't used to.
"You okay?" I asked.
He nodded, his face relaxing. I stepped away from him so that he could talk. You didn't tell me your friends were coming.
I didn't know actually until yesterday after I left your house. Then they flew in early. Archer, there's a person of interest in my dad's case. I talked to the lead detective yesterday, and he wants me to come in and look at a photo lineup. There could be an arrest, I finished, looking up into his eyes, emotion suddenly coming over me as I talked about the possibility "out loud."
Bree, that's great, he said. That's really great.
I nodded. I'll have to go home for a few days. Natalie and Jordan are driving home with me, but then I'll be back. I frowned again, thinking about how it'd feel to be back in Ohio. When I looked up at Archer, he was watching me closely, that tense look on his face again.
You could come with us. I smiled up at him.
His eyes softened for a minute, but then he breathed out. I don't think so, Bree. You… catch up with your friends.
"Hey, Bree, stop making us wait here! It's your turn!" Natalie called out.
I smiled and tugged on Archer's hand. "Come meet my friends," I said, then more softly, "They're going to love you."
Archer looked slightly dubious, but he put a small smile on and let me lead him to the table where our pizza was.
I introduced him to Natalie and Jordan and the guys shook hands, while Natalie tilted her head and said, "What the hell is in the water around here? Some sort of mineral that creates ridiculously hot guys? I'm moving."
I laughed and leaned in to my hot guy, breathing him in and smiling into his neck. Jordan's eyes darted away and his face blanched. God, I hated that it made him uncomfortable to see me with a guy now. Maybe we needed to talk a little more. I looked up at Archer and his eyes were narrowed on Jordan–he hadn't missed his reaction either. Of course not–Archer Hale never missed anything. Since I had met him, it had occurred to me that it would probably be amazing what we could all see and hear if we would just shut our mouths a little more, and stop trying to constantly hear our own voice.
We played darts and chatted and ate pizza for a little bit. Archer smiled when he should at Natalie's non-stop stories, but his silence was more pronounced than usual. I tried to draw him out, but he seemed to be having something internal going on that he wasn't sharing with me.
Natalie asked him questions, and I interpreted for him. He was sweet and answered everything she asked, but I could still tell he was a little off and I didn't know why. I'd have to ask him later though. At a bar in front of my friends wasn't the right time or place.
We ordered another pitcher of beer, and Archer had a glass and then excused himself to go to the restroom. As soon as he did, Jordan came up to me. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked. I nodded, thinking that we probably needed it. He had been shooting Archer looks all night and I was fed up with it.
He pulled me off to the side where we were away from Natalie over-hearing and took a deep breath. "Listen, Bree, I'm sorry for what I did back in Ohio. It was an a*shole move. I knew you were… fragile and dealing with a hell of a lot, and I took advantage of that. I'm not even going to lie and say I didn't. You'd know, anyway." He raked his hand through his dark blonde hair, leaving it sticking up, but in a charming way. "I know you don't think of me as anything more than a friend, and that's enough for me. Really, it is. That's what I came here to try to convey to you and I've been acting like an ass again. It's not easy seeing you with another guy… it never was. But I'll work on that. Your friendship means more to me than anything, and so does your happiness. That's all I wanted to tell you. I want you to be happy, and anything I can do–as a friend–that's what I want to do. Will you forgive me? Will you be a bridesmaid in my wedding when I find someone even better than you?"
I laughed out a small sound, almost a cry, and nodded my head. "Yes, Jordan. I forgive you. And you will find someone better than me. I'm… kinda high maintenance, and really cranky when I don't get my way."
He grinned. "You lie. But thank you. Buds?" He held out his hand.
I nodded, taking his hand and pulling him to me for a hug. "Yes," I whispered in his ear, "and stop giving my boyfriend evil glares. If you were paying more attention to anything else, you'd see the hot blonde girl eye licking you from the table next to us." I leaned back and winked.
Jordan laughed and glanced over at the table where the girl was sitting and then looked back at me. He cleared his throat and his expression sobered.
"What? You don't think she's hot?" I asked, pointedly not looking in her direction so she didn't know I was talking about her.
"Oh, she's hot," he said, "and your boyfriend is seriously pissed. He's looking at me like he wants to kill me right now."
I looked over at our table where Archer had returned and saw him draining another glass of beer.
"I'll go talk to him. Thanks, Jor," I smiled and started walking back to our table.
When I got there, I smiled at Archer and leaned into him, saying, "Hi," and kissing the side of his neck. I put my hands on his waist and squeezed. There was absolutely no extra anything there, all hard muscle and tight skin. I inhaled his scent–God, he smelled so good, soap and exquisite man. My man. He smiled that crooked, unsure smile, his eyes darting down to mine and then away.
"Hey," I whispered. "Have I told you yet that I'm glad you're here?" I smiled at him, trying to thaw his mood. I figured he was a little bit tense about Jordan's obvious discomfort with him, but it wasn't exactly the time for me to explain the whole situation. I'd just try to reassure Archer with my attention. He had nothing to worry about–Jordan was no threat to him.
Suddenly, Archer stood up and took my hand and led me toward the restrooms in the back. I followed behind him, his long legs making me have to fast-walk to keep up with his strides.
We turned into the hallway where the restrooms were, and he looked around, looking for what, I wasn't sure. "Where are you taking me, Archer?" I asked, laughing slightly. Apparently he was on a mission.
He didn't answer me, just led me to the far end of the dim hall where there was a doorway set back slightly from the wall. He pressed me into the alcove and leaned into me, taking my mouth in a kiss that was immediately deep and possessive. I moaned, pressing back into his hard form. This was a new side of Archer and I wasn't sure what was happening here. His intensity was confusing me. But I was turned on by it none the less. I guess I was turned on by anything this man did.
He reached his hand down and cupped one breast and rubbed the nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt. I gasped and brought my hands up into his hair and tugged gently at it. He tore his mouth from mine and simply breathed against my mouth for a second before I tipped my head back, leaning it against the door behind me. He leaned down to my throat and kissed and licked it gently.
"Archer, Archer," I moaned.
Suddenly, I jumped slightly as he sucked at the skin on my neck, scraping his teeth up the now-tender area. I brought my head down, the lust fog clearing as I looked up at his face and took in his challenging expression.
I brought my hand up to my neck. "Did you just… mark me on purpose?"
He looked down to my neck then back to my face, his eyes glittering down at me. He stepped back slightly and said, How many men in your life want to be with you? I'm assuming me, and Travis, and that Jordan guy aren't the only ones? How many more? His jaw ticked.
I stared at him for a second, at a loss for words. "I'm not… are you kidding?" I asked. "None. But…what does it matter how many men want to be with me? I already made it clear that I chose you. What does it even matter?" I finished, hurt evident in my voice, even to my own ears.
A look of confusion skated over his features before they hardened again and he said, Yes, it matters. Yes, it f*cking matters, his jaw ticking again. My eyes widened. He'd never sworn before and it startled me. He took a deep breath, vulnerability filling his eyes, whether he meant for it to or not. I can't even tell them to stay away from you, Bree. I have to sit there and watch, and I can't do a damn thing. He spun away from me and despite the fact that he was angry and I didn't like it, I felt the loss of his heat as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over me. He ran his hand through his hair and looked at me, his whole heart sitting right there in his expression. I'm not even a man. I can't fight for you.
"Stop!" I said loudly. "You don't need to fight for me. There's nothing to fight anyone for. I'm yours. I'm already yours." I walked the few steps to him and wrapped my arms around his middle. He didn't resist me, but he didn't return the embrace either. After a minute, I stepped back.
There's always going to be some guy, he said.
I looked up at him and then stepped away, taking a deep breath. Just then, Jordan stepped around the corner, stopping and squinting down the dim hall and calling out, "You okay, Bree?"
I saw Archer's body tense, and I closed my eyes and looked down and then looked back up as he turned and walked away from me, down the hall and past Jordan.
"Archer!" I called, but he didn't turn around.
"God!" I groaned and put my hand to my forehead and walked toward Jordan.
"Sorry, Bree, I didn't know I was interrupting anything. I just came to use the bathroom and saw you guys in what looked like a standoff."
I shook my head. "It wasn't a standoff. Just Archer being… I don't know. I need to go after him though. Are you guys ready to leave?"
"Natalie is. I think I'm gonna get my own ride home." He smiled a sheepish smile at me.
Despite the fact that I was upset over Archer, I grinned at Jordan and punched him lightly on the arm. "That's the Jordan I know and love," I said. "You sure you're safe?"
He laughed. "Yeah, I think I can take her if she tries to attack me." He winked.
I laughed and shook my head. "Okay."
I hugged him and he said, "Sorry again. Nice hickey by the way. I haven't seen you with one of those since we were fifteen."
I snorted. "I think that was a certain man's way of telling you and every other guy in here that I'm taken." I sighed.
Jordan smiled. "Well, go reassure him that that's not necessary. Us men can act like real a*sholes when we're insecure and needy."
I raised an eyebrow. "You don't say?"
He laughed softly and squeezed my arm. "You'll work it out. I'll be home in the morning."
I nodded and gave his arm one more squeeze, and then I walked out to the bar where Natalie was waiting for me.
"Hey," she said, "your boy toy just went stalking out the front door."
I sighed heavily. "He's not a toy, Nat. I don't know what's going on with him."
She raised her eyebrows. "Well. If you'd like my expert opinion, I'd say he's in love, and he doesn't know what to do with it."
"You do?" I asked quietly.
She nodded. "Yup. All the signs are there. Jaw ticking, glaring at other men who come into your proximity, broody, unpredictable behavior, branding…" She gestured to my hickey. "You gonna go put him out of his misery?"
I laughed softly, and it ended on a groan. I sat there for a few seconds considering the situation at hand and then said, "I hope so. Ready?"
We walked out to my car and I handed Natalie my keys since she had agreed to be the DD. As she started the car, she said, "By the way, I know he's not a toy to you. I see the way you look at him too. And I can see why you like him… and that scar," she groaned out the last word, "it makes me want to rock him in my arms and then lick him."
I laughed. "Whoa! Careful there or my jaw is going to start ticking and I'm going to brood the rest of the way home."
She laughed, but after a second I looked over to her and she was thoughtful. "What I'm wondering is, do you see something long-term with him? I mean, how will that work exactly?" Her voice was gentle.
I sighed heavily. "I don't know. This is all new. And yes, his situation is so different–there are challenges. But I want to try. I know that. Whatever that means… It's like, the second I saw him, my life started. The second I started loving him, everything clicked into place for me. As confusing as our situation is, inside it feels like it all makes the most perfect sense."
Natalie was silent for a second. "Well, that's poetic, babe, and I believe every word you say, but life isn't always so poetic. And I know you know that better than anyone. I'm just encouraging you to be a realist about this situation, too, okay?"
She glanced at me, continuing, "He's damaged, honey, and I don't just mean his vocal cords–I mean, Jesus, from what you told me, he grew up in an abusive household, his uncle shot him, his parents both died right in front of him, and then he was kept alone and isolated until he was nineteen years old by a crazy uncle, not to mention the fact that he has an injury that keeps him locked away in his own mind for all intents and purposes–that's gotta leave a mark, babe. Is it any wonder he's damaged?"
I let out a big breath, letting my head hit the seat back. "I know," I whispered. "And when you put it like that, it sounds crazy to even believe in the possibility that we can work–that he could work with anyone, but somehow… I do. I don't even have any way of explaining it other than that despite everything you just mentioned, he's still good and kind, and brave and smart, and even funny sometimes." I smiled. "I mean, think of the strength of spirit you have to have to come through what he did and not be as mad as a hatter, to still retain a gentle heart."
"True," she agreed. "Still, damaged people do things because they can't trust or believe in anything good. He's never had anything good. I'm worried that the more serious it gets with you, the more it's going to freak him out. Where he'll work, what he'll do with his life, that's almost the easy stuff compared to the emotional baggage."
I looked at her, biting my lip. "I have baggage, though, Nat. I'm damaged too. Aren't all of us?"
"Not to that extent, honey. Not to that extent."
I nodded and lay my head back on the seat. "When'd you get so insightful into the human spirit anyway?" I asked, smiling over at her.
"I'm an old soul, babe–you already knew that." She winked at me and I grinned.
We pulled up in front of my cottage and I hugged Natalie goodnight before she hopped out with my key, waving over her shoulder. I went around the car and got in the driver's seat. I'd be okay driving a mile to Archer's house. I already felt completely sober.
When I got there, I let myself in the gate and walked down to his house. I knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, he answered wearing only a pair of jeans, and rubbing a towel through his hair.
I took him in as he stood there, looking so damned beautiful, and so damned insecure.
I laughed softly. "Hi." I sighed and walked in his house and turned to look at him when I heard his door close behind him.
Why are you laughing? he asked.
I shook my head and brought my hands up. Because I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could read my mind so that you would know how much I want you, no one else. There could be three hundred men after me right now, and it wouldn't matter. Because none of them are you, Archer Hale. I dropped my hands for a second and then immediately brought them back up. None of them are the man I love. I shook my head slightly and then continued. And I was going to try to wait until maybe you were ready to say it, too, but… I can't. Because it literally wants to burst out of me all the time. And so it's okay if you don't love me, or if you're not sure if you do. But I'm sure. And I can't stand letting another minute go by where I don't tell you I love you, because I do. I. Love. You. I love you so much.
He stood frozen as I rambled, but at the start of my final five words, he moved across the space separating us so quickly that my breath caught in my throat and my hands fell. He grabbed me to him and pulled me against his body so tightly that I squeaked, a high-pitched sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
He picked me up and buried his face in my neck and as I wrapped my arms around him, he pulled me even tighter. I rested my head on his shoulder and breathed in his singular scent. We just stood like that for several minutes.
Finally, I pulled back and took his hand as I led him to the couch and we both sat down.
I'm sorry about what happened at the bar. Can I explain? He nodded, pursing his lips slightly and I went on. Jordan is just my friend, he always has been, never anything more. We grew up together–I met him when we were twelve. I've been aware that he had a crush on me for a while, but I made it clear to him that I only had friendly feelings for him. I paused before continuing. He pushed the issue after my dad died and that was the straw that made me take off. I smiled slightly. So, I guess you could say that you actually have Jordan to thank for sending me your way. Archer smiled too, and looked down at his hands in his lap. When I began speaking again, he looked back up at my hands. Anyway, that's what you saw tonight–him working through the fact that we'll never be more than friends, and then us coming to a good place as far as that goes. That's all.
Archer nodded, ran his hand through his hair, and said. I'm sorry–sometimes I feel like everything is over my head. It makes me feel… weak and angry, and not worthy of you. Not worthy of anything.
I grabbed his hands quickly and then let go. No. Don't feel that way–please don't. God, give yourself a break. Look at everything you've accomplished already. Look at who you are despite everything you have going against you. I brought my hand up to his cheek and he shut his eyes and turned into it. "And did I mention that I love you?" I whispered. "And that I'm not in the habit of loving unworthy people?" I smiled a small smile at him.
His eyes opened and they roamed my face for several beats, his expression almost reverent, before he said, I'm in love with you too. He let out a breath. I am so desperately in love with you. His eyes widened as if the words that he had just "spoken" were almost a surprise. His lips parted and his hands asked me, Is it enough, Bree?
I let out a breath and smiled, allowing myself to take a minute to rejoice at the knowledge that the beautiful, sensitive, brave man in front of me loved me. After a second I said, It's a really good start. I shook my head slightly, looking down. The rest we'll figure out, okay? I took his hands in mine.
Vulnerability washed over his expression as he nodded at me, his face conveying his doubts. My heart squeezed. What's wrong, Archer?
After a few seconds, he leaned forward and took my face in his hands and kissed me tenderly on my mouth, his lips lingering there as he rested his forehead on mine and closed his eyes. He leaned back and said, I love you so much it hurts. And truly, he looked pained.
I smiled a small smile at him and brought one hand to his cheek, and he closed his eyes for a beat before I brought my hand away. It doesn't need to hurt.
He breathed out. It does though. It does because I'm afraid to love you. I'm afraid that you'll leave and that I'll go back to being alone again. Only it will be a hundred times worse because I'll know what I'm missing. I can't… He sucked in a shaky breath. I want to be able to love you more than I fear losing you, and I don't know how. Teach me, Bree. Please teach me. Don't let me destroy this. He looked at me beseechingly, pain etched into every feature on his face.
Oh God, Archer, I thought, my heart squeezing tightly in my chest. How do you teach a man who has lost everything, not to fear it happening again? How do you teach a person to trust in something none of us can guarantee? This beautiful man that I loved looked so broken, sitting before me expressing his love for me. Expressing his devotion. I wished with all my heart that that could be a happy thing for him–but I understood why it hurt.
Loving another person always means opening yourself up for hurt. I don't want to lose more than I already have either, but isn't it worth it? Isn't it worth giving it a chance? I asked.
He searched my eyes and nodded his head, but his own eyes told me that he wasn't convinced that he meant it. I took a deep breath. I would make it my job to make him believe. I would believe strongly enough for the both of us if I had to. I took him in my arms and then scooted over so that I could climb up on his lap and nuzzle him more closely. "I love you, I love you, I love you," I whispered, smiling, trying to make this moment a happy one.
He smiled back and put his lips against mine, mouthing, "I love you, too," against my mouth, as if he was breathing love into my body.
I kept breathing against him, and after a while, he started fidgeting slightly, adjusting me on his lap. My pulse rate quickened as my body reacted to his nearness, his smell, the feel of his big, hard body right up against mine, and specifically something hard and hot pressing into my hip.
I reached my hand down and rubbed the bulge at the front of his jeans and smiled against his neck. "Are you constantly hard?" I asked, my lips against his skin.
I felt him chuckle silently against my chest and smiled at the fact that the sadness and tension from a few minutes before seemed to dissolve as our bodies heated. I leaned back and looked at him, tenderness and desire shining in his eyes. He brought his hands up. Yes, when you're around–it's why I'm always grimacing. He faked a pained expression.
I tilted my head. "I thought that was just your natural personality."
That, too.
I laughed and when I put more pressure on the grimace-causing bulge in question, he closed his eyes, his lips parting.
When he opened his eyes, he asked, Do you miss hearing the sounds I might make during sex if I had a voice? He watched my face as I thought about that.
I moved a piece of hair off his forehead and then shook my head slowly. No, I don't think about that. I don't rely on the sounds you might make to read you. I watch your expression and your eyes. I leaned in and brushed my lips against his mouth and then leaned back. I listen to your breathing and the way you dig your fingers into my hips right before you're about to come. There are so many ways to read you, Archer Hale. And I love every single one of them.
His eyes glittered at me before he moved forward suddenly, grabbing my face in his hands and laying me back down on the couch before coming down over me. I had a feeling the time for talking had just ended. Butterflies took up flight between my ribs and my belly clenched. I moaned, a deep, breathy sound that came up my throat, and let him take over, arching up into him, my core beginning to throb insistently. How was it that this man had just started having sex, and only with me, a couple weeks ago, and yet I trusted him with my body over anyone more experienced I'd been with before? Archer, overachiever that he was. I smiled into his mouth and he smiled back into mine, although he didn't lean back to ask me what exactly I was smiling about. I swept my tongue inside his mouth, the taste of him making me feel like I was going to combust–how could the inside of someone's mouth taste so delicious that it made you instantly dizzy with lust? It had been hours since I'd had a sip of beer, but I felt drunk on him–drunk with love, with lust, with something indescribable that I couldn't even name, and yet it owned me, body and soul–some kind of primal connection that must have been there before I existed, before he existed, before he or I ever breathed the same air, something written in the very stars.
He ground his erection down on my core, making me gasp and tear my mouth from his, groaning as I threw my head back, intense pleasure vibrating through my veins.
"Archer, Archer," I breathed, "there will never be anyone else for me." My words seemed to ignite him, his breathing coming out in sharp pants as he pulled my t-shirt up and popped my bra open in one movement, releasing my breasts to the cool air.
He sucked one nipple into his warm mouth as I moaned and wove my fingers into his hair, sparks of electricity shooting from my nipple down to my engorged *. My hips surged upwards, bucking into his hardness, and he hissed in a breath and pulled back, looking down at me with his eyes at half-mast. More wetness trickled down to my core at the look on his face alone and my mouth dropped open. Intensity and lust were stark in his expression, but so was his love for me. I'd never seen anything like it. The power in that expression was so jaw-dropping, that I could only stare for several seconds as the blood continued to course south, making me desperate with want. I felt like my entire body was a live wire–and so was my heart. It was almost too much.
Suddenly, Archer stood up and gestured for me to bring my arms up over my head. I did, and he pulled my t-shirt up and off and then moved to my jeans, unbuttoning them and bringing them down my legs. He took off my shoes and then pulled my jeans fully off, tossing those on the floor too. He stood over me for a few seconds, breathing hard, his jeans tented, his beautiful chest on display, and his eyes roaming my body. My own eyes widened and blood pulsated in my * at the look of him alone. I couldn't help it, I reached my own hand between my legs and dipped a finger into my wet, needy opening. I moaned at the sensation. Archer's eyes flared as he watched my hand and then he was moving down over me, spinning me over so that my belly was now on the couch as I sucked in a surprised breath. I looked over my shoulder as he stripped his jeans off and came down on top of me again, just hovering over me so that I could feel his heat, but not his skin.
I looked back over my shoulder again and that intense look was still there. My brain was cloudy with lust, but I acknowledged that although I loved sweet, gentle Archer, I loved take-charge Archer too. Whatever had brought this side of him to life, I embraced it, and I wanted more. "Please," I said on a whispery breath and his eyes flew to mine, clearing marginally, almost as if he was coming out of a trance.
He took himself in his hand and rubbed his stiff cock down the crack of my ass, up, down, up, down until I was panting and pressing myself into the couch cushions.
He brought himself to my opening and pushed gently inside, slowly, inch by inch and I moaned out with relief. I couldn't open my legs because of the way he was pressing down on me and so the feel of him entering me was almost too much, too tight and his size too much for me to accommodate from that angle. But he stilled for a minute, letting my body adjust and when I breathed out, he started sliding in and out of me in slow, leisurely strokes.
I put my arms under the pillow my head was resting on and turned my face to the side. He leaned down further and took my lips in a searing kiss, licking and sucking my tongue to the rhythm that his cock was gliding in and out of my wetness. When he broke the kiss and leaned back up, I saw our reflection in the big window across from the couch–anyone could have seen in, but of course, no one could on this fenced in, remote property, and so I didn't worry about that. I just watched our reflection, mesmerized by the sight and the feelings.
Archer had one knee on the couch on the other side of my legs, and one foot still on the floor, knee bent as he drove into me from behind. The sight of it was primal and the feel of it delicious as his big, hard cock pounded into me and my * ground against the couch each time he moved down. It was as if he wanted to own me, possess me, merge our bodies into one being. I couldn't move, could only take what he was giving, trust him with my body and my heart. And I did. I trusted him with everything in me.
I turned my face into the pillow and bit down on it, not wanting to come yet, wanting this to go on and on and on. He loves me, my heart sang. And I love him, and he owns me, body and soul. I don't care about all the other stuff. All of it will work itself out. And in that moment I believed it with every fiber of my being.
Archer started moving faster, pounding into me harder, almost punishing, and I loved it, loved it so much that I couldn't stop the orgasm that gripped me suddenly, moving through my internal muscles with almost-agonizingly sweet slowness, spreading outward through my core, up to my belly and all the way down to my feet. I screamed into the pillow, burying my face into it as my body spasmed and convulsed in ecstasy.
Archer's thrusts sped up and grew jerky, his breathing growing louder, and I felt a small aftershock in my core at the knowledge that he was about to come.
He took three long strokes, exhaling loudly with each one as he pressed into me, his hands coming down on the couch on the side of my body as he held his own weight. I felt him grow even larger inside of me, stretching me, right before I felt the heat of his release and he collapsed on top of me, half on, half off so that the majority of his weight was on the edge of the couch.
We both just breathed for long minutes, getting our heart rates under control. Archer nuzzled his face into the back of my neck, kissing down my spine as far as his mouth could travel without him moving his body. I calmed under the feel of his warm mouth, closing my eyes and sighing contentedly. He ran his nose over my skin and then I felt his lips again as his mouth formed the words, I love you, I love you, I love you.


**********


A little while later, after we had gone to bed, I woke up alone. I sat up groggily and looked around, but Archer was nowhere in sight. I got up and wrapped the sheet around my naked body and went in search of him. I found him sitting in a chair in his front room, wearing just his jeans, his golden skin glowing in the moonlight coming in the window, looking beautiful and broken, his elbows on his knees and one hand massaging the back of his neck as he looked down.
I went to him and kneeled down in front of him. "What's wrong?" I asked.
He looked at me and smiled a sweet smile, one that reminded me of the man who had come out with a newly-shaven face, looking at me so unsure. He brushed a piece of hair back off of my face and then said, Do you want kids, Bree?
My brows furrowed and my head came back slightly as I let out a small laugh. "Eventually, yes. Why do you ask that?"
Just wondering. I figured you did.
I was confused. "Do you not want kids, Archer? I don’t…"
He shook his head. It's not a matter of that. It's just… how would I support a family? I couldn't. I can barely support myself out here. I have a little bit of money left from my parents' insurance policy, but most of it went to my medical bills. My uncle supported us out here on his disability money from the army and now, I have a small insurance policy that he left–it'll last me as long as I don't live to be a hundred and ten… but that's it. His eyes moved away from me, back out the window.
I sighed, my shoulders drooping. "Archer, you'd get a job, do something you like. You don't think people with disabilities of one kind or another have careers all the time? They do–"
Do you want to hear about the first time I left this land on my own? he asked, cutting me off.
I studied his face and nodded my head yes, sadness suddenly gripping me and I wasn't even sure why.
My uncle passed away four years ago. He made all his own arrangements and was cremated. The medical examiner's crew came to take his body away and they brought his ashes back a week later. I didn't see another person for the next six months.
My uncle had a food stockpile down in the cellar–part of his crazy paranoia–and it kept me alive for that long. I started growing my hair, my beard… I didn't know exactly why at the time, but now I think it was another way to hide from the people I knew I'd eventually have to face. Crazy, right? His eyes found mine again.
I shook my head vigorously. "No, not crazy at all," I said softly.
He paused, looking at me and then went on. I held my breath. This was the first real time he had opened up to me on his own, without my probing.
The first time I left for the grocery store, it took me two hours to walk up that driveway, Bree, he said brokenly. Two hours.
"Oh, Archer," I breathed, tears coming to my eyes, my hands gripping his thighs, anchoring me to him. "You did it though, it was hard, but you did it."
He nodded. Yeah, I did it. People looked at me, whispered. I grabbed some bread and peanut butter and lived off of it for a week until I worked up the courage to go back out again. He huffed out a small breath, his face pained. I hadn't been off this land since I was seven years old, Bree.
He looked past me for a minute, obviously remembering. After a while though, it got better. I ignored people and they ignored me–I just started blending in, I guess. If someone spoke to me, I looked the other way. It was fine after that. I took up projects around here and stayed busy. I was lonely, so damn lonely. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression tortured. But I tired myself out most days…
I felt the tears shimmering in my eyes, understanding even more deeply the bravery it had taken for Archer to even take one step off this land.
"Then you went out with Travis… and to see me at the diner," I said. "You did that, Archer. And it was incredibly courageous."
He sighed. Yeah, I did it. But it had been four years by that point. It took me four years to take another step–and I didn't even like it.
"You didn't like it with Travis because he was the wrong person, untrustworthy, but you liked it with me, right? It was okay, then?"
He looked down at me, his eyes filled with tenderness when he put one hand up on my cheek for a second and then brought it down. Yes, it's always okay when I'm with you.
I leaned into him. "I won't leave you, Archer," I whispered, blinking the tears out of my eyes as I looked up at him.
His eyes warmed even more as he gazed down at me. That's a big burden for someone, Bree. To feel like if you leave a person, their whole life is going to crumble to dust. That's what I've been out here thinking about. What a burden I might end up being to you, the pressure you'll feel just loving me.
I shook my head. "No," I said, but my heart hammered hollowly in my chest because I understood what he was saying, too. I didn't agree, and as far as I was concerned in that moment, there would be no reason on earth that I would ever leave him, but his insecurity hit me square in the gut because it made sense.
Archer reached down and tilted my head slightly, his eyes moving to the side of my neck where the hickey he had given me was–still dark red and angry looking, I was sure. He cringed and let go of me and then brought his hands up. I don't know how to do any of this. You deserve better than the nothing I have to offer you. But it hurts even more to think of letting you go. He sighed, his eyes moving over my face. There are so many things I feel like I still need to figure out and so many things working against us. He brought one hand up and raked it through his hair, his face pained. My brain hurts when I think about it all.
"Then let's not think about it now," I said gently. "Let's take one day at a time and just figure it out as it comes, okay? It feels overwhelming now because you're thinking about it all at once. Let's just take this slowly."
He gazed down at me for several seconds and then nodded his head. I stood up and sat on his lap and hugged him close, burying my head in his neck. We sat that way for several more minutes and then he picked me up and carried me back to bed. As I drifted off to sleep in his arms, it occurred to me dreamily that I had thought saying we loved each other would make us stronger–but instead, for Archer, it just made the stakes higher.