He snorted. “Yeah, right, but you’re still going to have to find another stooge for today’s game.”
“For your information, there is no game,” she said, watching as he vanished into the office. “Chicken.” She pulled out her phone again and called Trev.
“Hell no,” he answered. “You’re scary, sweet thing. But Archer’s scarier.”
A scary man who was making it all but impossible to apologize! She called Spence.
“I knew it was going to be you,” he said, distinctly not happy to hear her voice. “Thanks for returning my keys last night after you kyped them and used them to break into Archer’s office.”
She’d set them on his kitchen counter before going home. “How did you know it was me?”
“Because I let you take them.”
Either she was losing her touch or he was just that good. She voted for the latter. “I need to know where Archer is.”
“Fine but I’m only going to tell you because I think you’ll actually improve his mood.”
She pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it, and then shook her head. “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?”
He snorted. “Stand by,” he said. “I’ll text you.”
And sure enough, five minutes later a text came through with an address and a note.
Spence: He’s on a surveillance recon only, nothing dangerous, and he’s alone. You owe me. Muffins, Elle. For a week.
Archer was on one of those rare jobs where he spent most of his time wondering why he’d taken it on in the first place. He hadn’t wanted to—as a rule he turned away most domestic cases. Having to stand between a husband and a wife with proof of infidelity on one side or the other never failed to leave him with a bad taste in his mouth. Yeah, he was cynical and jaded and could be a cold bastard. He knew and accepted this about himself. But he still hated providing the final nail in the coffin on a marriage.
This case involved doing just that. His client was a wealthy socialite at the top of the food chain, the elite of the elite in San Francisco, and she suspected her city council husband was cheating on her.
Archer had taken the case only because he owed the mayor a favor, and he’d called Archer himself and asked for his help for his “dear friend.”
He’d reluctantly agreed, ultimately deciding it would be good for him to clear the slate. Plus it was a job he could actually do one-handed, thankfully, as it would be at least another week before he was up to his usual speed. Getting knifed was a bitch. Worse, his men had turned into a bunch of babysitters, watching out for him, taking on the jobs they didn’t think he should do.
It was something he’d have done for any one of them, but having it turned on him when he was so used to being in charge drove him nuts. He was leaning casually against the hood of his car like maybe he was waiting for someone, watching the entrance of his client’s husband’s town house when he heard the sound of heels coming his way.
Not Elle.
That was his first thought. The stride was neither purposeful nor effortlessly graceful enough, but it was the walk of a woman on a mission.
He turned to see Maya, his client, standing on the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
She smiled and came to lean against his car at his side, mocking his stance. “Just found out that Kyle’s out of town tonight, left on short notice. Thought you might want to know since I’d told you he’d be here tonight with his skank.”
“You could have called me with this info.”
She bumped her shoulder against his. “What would the fun have been in that?”
While he processed that statement and all she meant by it, his brain processed something else. Another set of heels coming his way, these ones everything that Maya’s hadn’t been.
Elle.
She was holding a brown bag from his absolute favorite Thai take-out in all the land, making his mouth water. Or hell, maybe that was just Elle herself in a stark white blouse and a tight royal blue skirt hugging her sexy curves.
He had zero idea what she was doing and he’d found it best to not waste time wondering. Elle kept her own council. The question, as always, was did she come seeking a truce—or the next round of battle?
Elle slowed her steps at the sight of Archer and a woman leaning on his vehicle, standing closer than social niceties dictated. She’d learned early to be as sure and confident as she could, and if she couldn’t—then to fake it.
But sometimes faking it took a minute, such as now, when she was hit by two things. One, she shouldn’t have come. She’d given him up and she needed, intended, to stay strong on that.
And two, she hadn’t gone through normal social situations like a regular child. Hell, she’d never even been a child. Certain emotions had always had to take a backseat to survival so she’d never had to deal with them before.
Jealousy being one of them.
And it was absolutely jealousy feasting on her good sense as she took in the sight of Archer with yet another woman cozying up to him, probably in a trance under all the testosterone and pheromones that came off him in waves.
Yeah, it was a very good thing she’d given him up. She spun on a heel to walk away but Archer was faster.
He was always faster.
Snatching her by the wrist, he slowly reeled her in, taking advantage of her quick little stumble on her heels to haul her in close and wrap his arms around her.
“Hey, baby,” he said gruffly, his mouth at her jaw.
She froze in shock. Baby?
“So glad you finally made it,” he growled against her skin, causing a full body shiver. “What took you so long?”
It was a tough decision between kneeing him in the family jewels or jumping his sexy bones, but he took it out of her hands when he lifted her a little higher so that now her feet were entirely off the ground.
And then he kissed her.
At the first touch of his sexy, knowing, talented mouth on hers, all thought processes shut off. Her brain ceased to work. Not her body though. Nope, operating independently now, it wrapped itself around him as pleasure, sheer, unadulterated pleasure, infused every inch of her.
Archer tightened his grip and deepened their connection and she felt a hard tug on her heart. Somewhere far, far away, her brain clicked back on and understood that this was all for show, that for whatever reason they were in a distraction job and that worked because it meant that this wasn’t real. And that was perfect since with his tongue in her mouth and her tongue now rubbing up on his like a cat in heat, she couldn’t muster up a single objection. Instead she threw herself fully into her role of the protective, possessive girlfriend and wrapped her arms around him.
When the kiss ended and he pulled back, eyes hot, she smiled, hoping he couldn’t feel her knees knocking together. “Brought you dinner, sugar.”
He arched a brow, whether at her put-on heavy Southern accent or the nickname she had no idea. Sometimes on distractions she did this, pulled a persona out of her arsenal, and she knew damn well she was good enough at it to win an Academy Award.