Page 29 of A Texas Hero

“Let’s not argue today.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Are you ready to go to work?”

“No.” She loved arguing with him. “I’m not ready.”

He lifted his wristwatch and glanced at it. “But it’s time.”

“Yes, but I had a fashion emergency,” Zoey lied.

“Please don’t tell me you need a man’s opinion.” He scowled.

Zoey laughed. “As if. I never ask a man’s opinion when it comes to my fashion choices. I’m the one who has to wear the thing.”

“Finally, something that makes sense.” He uncrossed his arms. “Then why do you keep asking for my advice when it comes to your customers?”

“To give you something to do besides standing around and looking pretty.”

He harrumphed. “Okay, if you don’t need my opinion, how can I help you now?”

“I didn’t say you could help,” Zoey said, pointing to the couch. “Just relax while I try to fix this issue.”

“Fine.” He plopped down on the sofa.

“Help yourself to the remote.”

Stupidly, she’d placed a screen in the guest room so they didn’t even have to watch TV together in the evenings. She suspected he did it from time to time just so he could keep an eye on her. He’d study his phone, glancing up at her every few minutes as if worried she wouldn’t still be there. Every once in a while, when the laugh track went off on her comfort show, Frasier, he’d look up, the crease between his brow deeper. She’d be laughing so hard she wanted to pee, but he just didn’t get it.

“Why is this so funny?”

“Because Frasier can’t remember the words to the song! He’s on live TV, a marathon for charity, and he’s just faking it. ‘And bum da bum da, buttons and bows!’”

God, it was hilarious. She and Mami used to watch Frasier reruns. Zoey would lay her head in Mami’s lap sometimes, and other times she used the opportunity to braid Zoey’s hair.

Now she left the room before Archer could growl at her again.

Zoey wandered into her bedroom. Now the real work began. She didn’t think she’d behaved like such a schoolgirl since she was…wait. She’d never done this before. Usually men were after her, chasing, flirting, until she noticed them. But those had been all the wrong men, hadn’t they? Peter. Mick. Scott… It occurred to her that if she wanted to change things, maybe she had to make the first move. She had to be the one to initiate the chase and go after a man who wasn’t so obviously interested, to see where it might lead.

In her bedroom, she heard the sounds of ESPN drifting from the living room. Archer was watching soccer.

Flipping through her work-appropriate dresses, she found one that zipped up in the back. Perfect. Now, all she had to do was act like one of those helpless women who couldn’t zip themselves up. After years as a runway model, Zoey practically had double-jointed arms and could reach firmly behind her without any issues. But she’d seen plenty of girls need help. Girls with shorter arms, for instance. For a few minutes, she could pretend to be one of them. Then she’d see if there was even a hint of interest from Archer. She’d found the perfect knee-length dress, a silky white one that complemented her skin. She purposely zipped the dress only three-quarters of the way up.

She strode toward him, a firm plan in her mind, but chickened out halfway down the hallway. Luckily, he was engrossed in the game and didn’t notice. Was she really going to do this? Pretend she couldn’t zip up her dress by herself? What was she, five? But no. She reminded herself of all the girls she’d helped during fashion week. This was a common-enough occurrence. Sure. Of course! Just do it.

“Thank you for waiting,” Zoey said. “Just one last thing. Could you help me with my, uh, zipper?”

He stood, and she didn’t imagine the double take she saw flit across his eyes. Score! This dress always drew attention from men. Twyla said it showed off her legs in the best way.

She turned so he could better access the zipper and lifted her hair out of the way.

“It probably seems silly, like I should be able to do this, because I have long arms, but you know how it is. Sometimes…um, you just can’t reach? At least, that’s what’s happening right now.”

Stop talking. She’d had no idea that having a crush on someone could be such torture. Years ago, she used to think if she could just meet Idris Elba in real life, her life would be set. But it might have gone something like this. Awkward. Her nerves on fire with the pull of her attraction.

“It is no problem,” Archer said, but his voice was low, gruff, just a scrape of a deep sound.

His warm, strong fingers briefly touched her bare skin and she closed her eyes. She thought she might have heard a swift intake of breath as he pulled the zipper up. Not quickly. It was a slow slide and she enjoyed every second of it. His hands didn’t leave her all at once. One callused hand slid down her bare arm before his touch stopped. When his hands were no longer on her, a cold snap filled her. She could get used to those hands. She turned ever so slowly to see whether this exercise had any effect on him.

Clearly, there had been an effect, because he looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. Or…wait. Oh. Just like he had that first time they met, when she’d been so preoccupied. When he’d let her go on and on about a gift for his girlfriend. His eyes were smoldering, pupils dilated, his lips slightly parted.

“I hope my hands weren’t too rough on your skin,” he said.