I hear a dog barking inside and smile. Queenie is already doing her job! Footsteps sound, and Archer says something to her, and then the door opens. He’s holding the Spoodle, and he grins at me.
“This is Beth,” he tells the dog, moving back to let me in, and he reaches out to touch my upper arm as I close the door behind me. He’s telling the dog I’m a friend, but that simple touch brings goose bumps popping out all over me.
“Hello beautiful,” I say to her, giving her my hand to sniff, and touching her gently under the chin. “Isn’t she a gorgeous color?”
“My little redhead.” He chuckles, kisses the top of her head, and then places her on the floor.
I drop to my haunches and let her sniff my hands, and fuss her up. Archer bends to stroke her too, and she immediately lies down and rolls onto her back so he can rub her tummy.
“Impressive,” I say. “Although I’m close to doing the same.”
He laughs and pushes up to his feet, lifts me up, then cups my face. He looks into my eyes and brushes my cheeks with his thumbs. “Are you okay?”
I nod, relieved to see him and to have him touch me, and be so tender and caring.
His lips curve up. “Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.
“Yes please.”
His smile spreads, and then he closes the gap between us and lowers his lips to mine. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly against him, safe and secure. My hands rest on his chest, and I sigh and melt into the kiss, opening my mouth to his tongue and giving myself over to him.
After the stresses of the day, plagued by worries and fears, seeing Jude, and all the indecision and I shouldn’t, I mustn’t, just being there in his arms fills me with emotion.
He lifts his head and frowns as he sees tears in my eyes. “Baby,” he says.
“They’re good tears,” I whisper. “You make me happy.”
His frown lifts and he hugs me again, and we stand there like that for a while. He’s big and warm and he smells amazing, of his fresh cologne and the smell of baking bread that’s emanating from the oven.
“Like coming home,” I murmur.
“Sorry?”
“Nothing.” I move back and smile. “What’s for dinner? It smells great.”
“Oh, nothing flashy. Just pasta, and I’ve made some bread.” He leads the way into the kitchen. “Chelsea Winter’s Lockdown Loaf, you know it?”
“Oh, made with beer, right?”
“Yeah, you just throw all the ingredients into the bowl, put it in a tin, and bake it. So easy, and it tastes fantastic.”
“Sounds amazing. I’m starving.”
He glances at me. “Yeah, you look as if you’ve lost weight.”
“I haven’t had much of an appetite since Saturday.”
“Aw, well, we’ll see what we can do about that. Pull up a stool and I’ll dish up.”
I sit on a stool at the breakfast bar, and bend and pick up Queenie while he moves around the kitchen, finishing off the meal. The dog is happy to sit on my lap, and I say, “Awww…” as she leans against me, cuddling up. I kiss her head, and she nuzzles my hand, obviously enjoying the attention. “It’s sad to think she’s been neglected.”
“Maybe she recognizes a kindred spirit.” He smiles.
“What do you mean?”
He starts slicing the bread. “I think all three of us are a bit touch starved. Don’t you?”
Am I? It would explain why his simple hug felt so good.
