"See, I should just ride my bike."
"It's fine to stick out like that. It's not a long drive."
"But I need—"
"If we stop at whatever metal scrap yard, will you please let me drive you home and then stay there?" he begged.
"I think you're overreacting," I told him as I sat in the passenger seat.
"This is a perfectly reasonable reaction," he said as he pulled onto the road.
Archer stood around as I picked through the scrap metal at one of the metalworking shops down the road. I knew the owner, and he was nice enough to let me take some scraps when I needed.
"That it?" Archer asked as I put the metal in his trunk.
"It's a little dirty," I said. "Sorry about your car."
He shrugged. "It needs to be detailed. My little brothers already scuffed it up."
"Siblings, huh? Always ruining your stuff," I said.
He laughed.
"Are you coming to the art fair tomorrow?" I asked as I sat back in the car.
"Maybe in the afternoon," he replied.
"All the good stuff is in the morning," I said. "If you want to pick up a Hazel Loring original of two very adorable corgi puppies, you better arrive early."
"I'm not much of a morning person. I'm a creature of the night," he said.
He looked it in that moment, one hand on the steering wheel, hair fluttering slightly in the breeze from the open car window.
I looked down at my overalls. "I need to start dressing better around you," I said. "I mean, wearing paint-spattered overalls and a cropped shirt is probably not the standard you're used to." Archer flicked a quick glance at me and then looked back at the road. "I feel like I made a terrible impression. I'm not usually this much of a disaster," I said, rambling.
"I never knew I needed girls in crop tops in my life before I met you. It's a welcome addition."
"So if I wear this shirt again," I said, sliding my fingers up his bare forearm to the rolled-up sleeve, "you'll come dumpster diving with me?"
"How about if you wear that shirt with nothing else, I will buy you your very own dumpster, and you can fill it with whatever you want?"
"I want to fill it with raspberries and marshmallows and stuffed animals!"
Archer laughed. His voice was so deep, and I shivered slightly.
"I wish you had rescued the raspberries." I sighed, looking out the window. We were almost back to my café. "I would have made you raspberry white chocolate soufflé pancakes."
Archer pulled up in front of my café and parked the car.
"I also wanted to make a raspberry muddle. It's really tasty," I told him as he unloaded my stuff from the trunk. "It has sparkling water, a little lime, some mint, and a lot of vodka."
"Sound delicious," Archer said, turning around from setting my bike down on the sidewalk and walking me to the door.
I unlocked it then turned around, leaning back against it. "Normally I don't have a lot of desserts on the menu," I said to him. "But I'd make an exception for you."
He rested a forearm on the door above my head and leaned over me, his body barely touching mine.
"Do you want to come inside?" I whispered and licked my lips. "For dessert?"
