I attended a second yoga class, but that time, we didn’t have wine. Though the rest of the pack worked on the heat house, I didn’t feel absolutely at ease. Noah was also there the whole time with Archer in the gym. He was quickly winning over my new friends, and while that should have pleased me, it didn’t.
Today I declined the invitation. I wanted to finish setting up the store so I could officially open. Time was ticking on the lease.
After much hard work, all the books were shelved by sunset.
When a knock sounded at the door, I put the lid back on the paint and ran to the front of the shop. I slowed to a halt when I realized the person standing at the door wasn’t Noah.
Archer was waving at me in the darkness. He pressed his nose to the glass door and moved down a little so it reminded me of a pig’s snout.
A laugh burst out of my mouth, and I opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I think the question is: What areyoudoing here? It’s past eight. Where’s Noah?”
“I thought he was working out with you again.”
“Not today.” Archer twisted his mouth to the side and scanned the empty parking lot. “Can I come in?”
I thought about the cameras. “Noah doesn’t want me letting strangers inside when he’s not here.”
Archer braced his hand on the door and centered his beautiful honey-brown eyes on me. “I’m not a stranger.”
An unbidden silence hovered between us.
“You’ve got a shitload of drunks hoofing it from the bars. They can see you through the glass,” he said, tapping it for emphasis. “Trust me, Noah won’t mind if I come inside. You haven’t met the jackasses in this town. For all you know, they’re escaped convicts.”
I crossed my arms. “And which prison did you escape from?”
Archer grinned handsomely, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Then he leaned in and sniffed. “Do I smell paint? Maybe you’re high. That explains the bad decisions.”
I reluctantly stepped back. “Come in.”
He swaggered in and locked the door behind him. “So… this is the famous bookstore I keep hearing about.” His gaze wandered from the cameras to the shelves that ran to the back of the store, each filled to the brim. “Holy shit. You’ve been busy.”
When he walked ahead to check out the books, I adjusted my green dress and made sure it wasn’t tucked inside my panties in the back. I hadn’t expected anyone to show up out of the blue, and suddenly I was tightening my ponytail and straightening my bra.
He chuckled. “I’m scared to turn around and see why you’re jingling so much.”
I put my arms down and clasped my hand over my charm bracelet while following him. The pressure of knowing what tosay was eating away at me, so instead, I remained silent and waited for him to speak.
Archer regarded the spines of eighteenth-century Chitah poetry with reverence. He periodically bent over to get a closer look but touched nothing. His quiet admiration impressed me.
“This is incredible,” he said. “I’ve never seen this many Breed books in one place. Doesn’t the higher authority archive these?”
“They’re only interested in the ones that implicate people in crimes.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Really?”
I averted my eyes. “That’s what my father told me. He didn’t collect those. Most of these require special preservation because of their age, but I don’t have the means to do that. Perhaps whoever buys them will transcribe the contents before the paper disintegrates.”
“I guess nothing’s meant to last forever.”
When we reached the back of the room, Archer approached the table and stared at the cardboard on the wall. “What’s that?”
“My vision board. Robyn gave me the idea and said it would help me figure out what I wanted, I guess. Maybe it’s silly.”
He canted his head, studying the images pasted on the cardboard of books, wild horses, a peaceful river, a silhouette of a family holding hands, and an apple pie.
“Have you ever traveled anywhere?” I asked him.
