Page 19
“Don’t.”
It was her turn to snap her mouth shut.
Archer sat up straight, then brushed his hands down his thighs, his eyes on the patch of grass a foot in front of them. “If you don’t mind, I would like to leave the past in the past and…move on.”
She did mind. Very much. Tea spent the last few days doing everything she could to avoid talking to Archer, but now that she was, she wanted everything out in the open. She wanted to apologize for that night eight years ago, for all of the nasty things she said but did not mean.
Except he’d listened to her when she told him not to pry about her father, so it was only fair—as they attempted to mend their friendship back together—that she also did the same.
“Sure,” she replied. “The past is in the past.”
He nodded, closing his eyes as he tapped the tips of his fingers.
She needed something to say to break the tension, but she just stared at him. Went back to scanning his body. When she got to some kind of berry plant tattoo on his left ankle, she registered that he was wearing tennis shoes.
“Why are you wearing sneakers right now?
His grin returned. She exhaled with relief.
“I mean, you’re kind of breaking lake etiquette,” she continued. “Isn’t it a rule here that you always have to be barefoot?”
“Try stepping on a bee three times in a single season, then come talk to me about lake etiquette.”
She flinched. “Ouch. Damn clovers.”
He grumbled. “Damn clovers. I need to sprinkle a solution across the lawn and kill them, but it’s not my highest priority.”
He lifted his hat, finally giving her a clear shot of his hair. It was shorter, but it was still wavy and midnight-black. He had a full head of it, unlike his brother Austin who skipped his balding phase and completely shaved his head. She’d seen the Instagram photos of Riley shaving off Austin’s hair with an electric razor three summers earlier. Archer wasn’t in any of the shots.
He tilted his head at her, eyes expectant. Eyes that were aware she was staring.
She shook out of it. “What is your highest priority?”
“Probably the dumpster.”
She frowned. “You still haven’t figured that out yet?”
He rubbed his temples. “By all means, if you have a solution that will keep the bears out and make it easy for anyone to remove early in the morning, I’m all ears.”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, thinking through different possibilities.
Archer sighed at her lack of an answer, then pointed to her half empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. “Wanna share some of that?”
“I don’t have anything for you to drink out of, and it’s probably not safe for you to drink from the bottle—”
He bolted upright. “I’ll grab a glass. Be right back.”
He returned minutes later with an empty mason jar in one hand and two bags of Old Dutch chips in the other. He placed his glass down then held up the two bags. “Ketchup, or Barbecue?”
“Ketchup, duh.”
He tossed her the unopened bag. “Some things never change.”
“Yoo-hoo, Archer!”
“No, no, no,” he mumbled, then turned with a flourish, that Minnesota Nice smile from earlier painted on his face. “Sandy, hi!”
Tea opened her bag of chips and dug in, taking a large sip of her wine as she watched Archer play nice with Sandy. They were talking about the owners’ meeting in a few weeks, and despite Archer’s pleasant demeanor, Tea could tell that he was not thrilled to be talking about where they were hosting the meeting again.
