“There was nothing I could do about that. Bailey?—”
“Yeah, I know all about Bailey,” I sighed. “Fuck, I can’t do this, Archer. I can’t throw away everything I’ve got here.”
“You’re not. You do this job with me and then you’re out.”
“You’re never really out,” I muttered under my breath.
“Listen, I swear to God, this is the last one, and I’m not bailing on you this time. But he’s fucking angry that it went sideways. And you don’t want him coming to find you,” he hissed.
No, I really didn’t fucking want that. Not because I was scared of him, but because it would only bring trouble down on everyone’s heads.
Sighing, I took the envelope and tore it open, staring at the contents. By all intents and purposes, it seemed like a pretty straightforward job. Take out the son of a bitch who shot the boss’s son. Easy enough. And when that was done, I’d be out.
“Fine. Last job.”
He signaled the bartender and ordered two beers, then turned back to me with that inquisitive look that bordered on intrusive.
“What really happened?”
I leaned back, trying to avoid that look I knew too well. He wasn’t going to drop this, and if I didn’t tell him, he’d only keep asking.
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “A misunderstanding that has half the town hoping you choke on a carrot and die.”
I slid my hand along my jaw, bristling at how long my beard was getting. I never let it grow out, but that past week without Josie had done a number on me. I hadn’t been the same without her in my bed.
And then I went and threw it all away.
“How long are you gonna live this life, Archer?”
His eyes darkened at the question. Only I knew the true reason why he did what he did, and his reasons for not getting out. It would take something really insane to get him to stop living the life we did. It was his outlet, his way of releasing that pent-up anger always simmering under his skin.
But it would slowly kill him, just like it was killing me.
“How long are you gonna deny that you really want Josie?”
He had a point.
“Call me crazy, but I don’t think a guy like me is good for a woman like Josie.”
“Then why the hell did you ever let her in your bed?”
Because I couldn’t resist the temptation. Not that I would ever admit that to Archer.
“What time do we leave?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Tomorrow morning. He wants the job done tomorrow night.”
“That’s not a lot of time to prepare.”
Shaking his head, he looked away from me. “Since when do we need time to prepare for a job like this? It’s pretty fucking simple. Do the job and get out.” He leaned forward in his seatand grinned at me. “Then you can come home to your life with Betty Crocker.”
I took a swig of my beer and ignored his jab. If only he knew how much I really wanted that. And I had a feeling he understood more than he was letting on. I’d seen the looks he shot at Cheyenne when he thought no one was looking. But that was the thing about being a bartender. I always saw more than anyone wanted me to see.
And something about Cheyenne got Archer all riled up. More than I had ever seen in the entire time I’d known him.
I followed his line of sight, but pretended not to notice the way his hand tightened around his mug as Cheyenne laughed with Maverick, the town sheriff.
