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His eyes center on me, and his hand stops caressing mine. Instead, he plants it firmly atop my own, pinning me in place as he takes another step toward me. A few inches are all that separate us as I stare up at him.
I realize now my analogy was wrong. I’m not a captured lion offered freedom. I’m a gazelle staring down an already freed lion.
Only I don’t want to run. I want to be caught.
“I’m crazy about you, Juliet,” he says, his voice dropping and pulling the energy in the room to hover closer between us. “Why else would I have spent seven hours carting pumpkins from Bugelbach’s to Main Street? Why else would I agree to set aside my vendetta against your dad?”
He wraps his right hand around my wrist and edges me closer. I willingly comply. His breath tickles my lips as he leans closer and whispers, “Why else would I be thinking about you every minute of every day, lingering long after the hayrides are over just at the slight hope of seeing you walk by?”
His features sober, and he swallows hard. “Why all of that if only to prove I am completely obsessed with you?”
I can’t breathe. He’s taken any remaining oxygen from me with his words and with the picture he’s painted for me of my daydreams becoming a reality.
There’s only one thing I want now—the final desire, the ultimate fantasy. Archer’s lips on mine.
I tip my chin back, letting him know I’m willing and ready as his hand pulls me ever closer until my body finally presses against his.
Finally. Finally, I get to—
He turns his head toward the door and takes an abrupt step back. “I think...”
Then I hear it, too. A car engine cuts out, a door shuts, and dread coats every inch of me.
“Dad,” I whisper.
Juliet
Archer looks concerned, but he doesn’t give off the panic I feel inside. “You need to hide,” I say. “Now.”
He laughs, then stops. “Wait, you’re serious?”
“Dead serious.”
I snatch his hand and pull him down the hallway.
“Wait, why?” Archer asks, jogging behind me. “I thought you said I didn’t have to worry about him?”
“You don’t. I do.” We’re almost at the end of the hallway. “You’ll have to sneak out the window.”
Voices sound. Dad must have gotten a ride home from someone. It’s another man. Tom, maybe?
“Why can’t I just go out the back door?” Archer asks.
“It’s too far away. He’ll see us.”
We reach my room that faces the front of the house, though the blinds and curtains are drawn to keep us hidden. I shove him inside. “Stay in here. Unlock that window so you can be ready when I come around to get you.”
He’s laughing. “Juliet, this is ridiculous. I can handle your dad. Especially because you and I weren’t doing anything wrong.”
“Listen,” I say, still waiting for the front door to open as I turn on a lamp near the window. “There’s a reason I told you not to tell my dad that I was caught making out at The Ridge, okay? I did it like five times, and each time, he was the one to almost catch me. I got away without him seeing me every time. I’ve kept up a near-perfect reputation with him, and I’m not going to have that end tonight by him finding you of all people inside his home, alone with his daughter. Now stay in here, and don’t make a sound.”
Archer’s still laughing, but his chuckles are softer now. “You ran away from your dad?”
“Now’s not the time,” I spit out in a fierce whisper, hearing keys jingle at the front door. “Not a sound!”
I close the door just as he pretends to zip his lips, the amusement in his eyes tempting me to join in, but my heart is beating too fiercely to find any humor in the situation.
I reach the end of the hallway just as the front door opens, and I settle my breathing as much as possible before casually walking around the corner to the front room.
