Save Me (The Archer Brothers, #3)

“I hate snow,” Evan adds, and I happen to agree with him.

He pulls into a hotel and I quickly spot Ryley gazing over the balcony. We get out and traipse up the stairs. She pulls me into a hug, already knowing that I’ve been told the bad news.

“She’ll be here soon,” Ryley says, offering me a warm smile. “I’ll talk to her. This will work out, I promise.”

Nate taps me on the shoulder and I follow him to the room right next to hers.

“We’ll listen from here,” he says, pointing at the equipment that Rask is playing with.

“When did we become spies?”

Evan laughs behind me. “When Lawson become senator.”





EVEN AS THE SUN sets for the night, it’s still blistering hot outside. My shirt is drenched with sweat and I’m in dire need of a shower. I should’ve never gone for that last run along the beach, but when Archer dared me, I couldn’t let his cocky attitude beat me at anything.

Music plays throughout our house and knowing my neighbors, they’ll likely call patrol on us because of a disturbance. I’ve told Penny she has to watch that sometimes, but she never seems to remember. Not that I blame her because as I stand in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her dance in her bikini to the likes of the Eagles, I’m mesmerized and forget why I’d be upset because she’s enjoying herself.

It’s easy to tell that she’s been out in the sun today. Her hair is piled high and I can see the outline of her sunglasses resting on top of her head. The straps of her hot pink bikini shake each time she shimmies her hips to the beat of the song. Every few seconds she sings a word or two even if they’re the wrong ones.

That’s one of the first things that clued me in that I was in love with her—her singing. It didn’t bother me, or get on my nerves. I didn’t care that she was out of key and didn’t know the song. The best part is that she’d make up her own lyrics and even though they weren’t right, they made the song better and I quickly found myself using her lyrics instead of the actual ones in the song.

I don’t even know how she’s mine. How did I end up so lucky to be graced with a woman like her? Sure she was dared to talk to me, but what transpired after has been nothing short of amazing. Every day I’m thankful for her friends deciding to take a trip to San Diego and venturing across the bridge. They could’ve walked into any bar, but they chose Magoos instead. They could’ve dared her to talk to any other frog in the bar, but my lonely ass appealed to them and they sent her my way.

“What’s all this?” I step into the kitchen as Penny turns around. The smile that forms as soon as she sees me is the most amazing thing I have ever seen.

“You’re home early.” Penny walks toward me and rests her forearms on my shoulders while clasping her hands behind my neck. When my wife is half naked and standing in front of me, you can bet your ass that I’m going to touch her. My fingertips press into her back, right where her bikini starts. It takes very little effort to slide my hand inside so that I’m palming her ass.

“I’m late, actually, and very sweaty. Wanna take a shower?” I waggle my eyebrows at her, but don’t really need to. She knows what I want because she can feel me growing against her.

“Yes, but I have something to tell you first.”

“Tell me,” I say, eyeing the sweet valley of her neck. I can easily picture myself placing a hickey there. If she didn’t work on base, I’d do it just so everyone knew she belonged to someone. Sometimes a ring isn’t enough.

Watching her face for some indication of what kind of news this is going to be since she’s taking her sweet time spitting it out, I see indifference. I don’t like that. Penny needs to feel like she can tell me anything. I cup her face gently and make sure her eyes meet mine.

“You can tell me anything, you know this.”

“I’m afraid you might be upset with me.” Her voice falls.

“Are you leaving me?” My instincts tell me to step back and put some distance between us, but I don’t. I pull her even closer, if that’s possible, so she can feel my heart beating for her.

“I’m pregnant,” she says so quietly I barely hear the words, but I hear them nonetheless. The words seep in, followed by the images of Penny with a swollen belly, my hands on her stomach feeling a baby kick—a baby we created together. Me, standing in a blue hospital gown holding my son or daughter—a child I never thought I’d have.

“Say it again,” I plead, needing to hear her say the words that will make us parents, the words which are going to change everything for the better.

“I’m pregnant,” she says, shrugging with a look of sorrow across her face, obviously expecting that I’d be upset.