I glanced up, catching his eye, and smiled. “Thank you.”
We worked in silence for a few minutes, sliding large shapes of gingerbread off the baking sheets, and then I picked up the photo to figure out a starting point.
“It’s like trying to read a map blindfolded,” I uttered.
Archer laughed and leaned in. “Let me see.”
I shifted so he could study the photo too, but the scent of pine robbed my concentration and left me battling the urge to lean back into his arm.
“That looks like that one,” he said, pointing from the photo to the counter. “And then that one.”
His voice was hypnotizing. Deep but calm. And every time he shifted, Christmas trees and coffee swirled beneath my nose.It’s not that I didn’t want to try.
“Toby.”
I knocked into him with the force of my startle. “What? Oh, sorry. What were you saying?” I asked, looking between him and the counter.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Wait. What?I blinked. “Weren’t we talking about gingerbread?”
Archer gazed at me quietly for long moments, his attention a net I got tangled in.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he repeated.
I shook my head. “No.”
“No?”
Why does he seem surprised?
“No.” Why was he asking me that?
His lips pursed, eyes turning a little squinty. “What about Brett?”
“Brett,” I echoed as my brain worked to produce a picture of the man he mentioned. “What about him?”
“You were flirting.”
I felt my eyes bulge. “I was not!”
Archer’s lips thinned. “You were.”
“I was not.”
“I saw you. Making googly eyes at each other under the oak tree.”
“We were looking at the carved initials,” I retorted. Then, “Who even cares? You don’t even like that tree.”
“That’s not true.”
I scoffed and folded my arms in front of me. “You like it?”
“Yeah,” he said, turning away to look at the photo again. “We should do this.”
“You’re the one who brought this up,” I uttered.
“I shouldn’t have.”
