Page 24 of A Texas Hero

“Um, no. Thanks, but no.” He straightened. Let her see he meant no.

“Please?”

He tugged on his tie, the lilt in her voice unnerving him. “Look, over there. I think you have a customer.”

She didn’t bother looking. “I do, and it’s you. I’m going to get you to relax and unwind if it’s the last thing I do.”

“And you think leather is going to help?”

“It can’t hurt.” She now held the jacket in her hands by the shoulders, shaking it, threatening him with it.

“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “I am not going to unwind on the job, but sure. Why not? Give me the stupid jacket if it will get you to stop talking about it.”

He tried to take it from her but she held it out, and after rolling down his shirtsleeves, she slipped it on one arm and then the other. It went on easily so she’d guessed correctly on size. But as he expected, he didn’t feel any differently because it was leather. The jacket had nothing to do with the way he felt. If he had relaxed at all, it had everything to do with Zoey. It had to do with the way she smiled, with a mix of acceptance and heated desire.

And, as if she’d seen exactly what she wanted…and it was him.

Or the jacket.

Archer whipped out of his trance when the doorbell chimed. A man had just walked into the shop. He didn’t look much like a threat, wearing jeans and an unassuming polo shirt, but Archer knew far better than to judge a book by its cover. He turned to Zoey, to gauge her reaction, and a shot of alarm coursed through him. Her eyes had opened wide; she was clearly shocked to see this man. But this was not Scott—Archer had seen enough photos to know. He turned to block the strange man’s approach.

“Can I help you?” Archer said putting his body between them.

Zoey came around him. “Peter? What are you doing here?”

Peter. Wait, who the hell was Peter? Archer had not been told of anyone named Peter.

“You know this man?” Archer asked, glad he hadn’t tackled him. That would be tough to excuse twice.

“Yes,” Zoey said. “I know him.”

There was no fear in her tone, but he thought he detected a hint of apprehension. He would need to know more about this man, and soon.

“It’s been a while,” Peter said. “A long while.”

Chapter Ten

Zoey hadn’t seen Peter Connor in a couple of years. In some ways, she’d moved to Charming to get away from him.

“That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here,” Zoey said, her hand lightly touching Archer’s arm so he’d stand down.

Peter, for all his many issues, wouldn’t hurt Zoey. At least not physically.

“I was in Houston for a meeting and thought I’d stop in and say hello.” He tipped back on his heels.

This was not a welcome development. Zoey didn’t want to be rude but there was a reason she hadn’t talked to Peter since their breakup. She didn’t want her father encouraged in any way to think that she’d ever get back together with “his choice” for her. No way, no how. Her father had a weird way of screening men. In his opinion, they had to be financially well off, and not in a profession that was the least bit hazardous. No danger of concussions or knee injuries. He really liked accountants for her.

But one of the last times she’d seen Peter, she asked him whether he’d ever consider moving away from Amarillo and working for someone other than her father.

“Why would I do that? Your father is the best man I know.”

“Yes, but…it’s weird, you working for my father. Don’t you think?”

She’d always believed that his allegiance was to her father, and not her. Peter claimed that wasn’t true. But when pushed, he’d always choose her father. Whether it was the chance to attend a football game in the box or any sporting event in conjunction with her dad, he chose that over Zoey every time. And she couldn’t fault him completely since he’d been her father’s accountant first.

“If you’re feeling safe here,” Archer said, removing the leather jacket that made him resemble James Dean—if James Dean were Italian, “I will be right over there if you need me.”

He strode toward the front of the store, where one of her customers, a woman, accosted him, holding up a glittery gold party dress with a plunging neckline.