Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Archer

“I think Easton is sad,” Meadow tells me when we’re in the truck. She’s always been like that, an old soul in a young body. I think part of that has to do with what she’s been through. Knowing that what people used to see when they looked at her didn’t match what she knew to be true inside, before she even had the words for it, Meadow has always been sensitive to other people’s emotions and very good at being vocal about hers.

“Yep, I think you’re right.”

“It’s nice you guys are friends.”

Friends is probably too strong a word for what we are. I’d like to be friends with Easton, but when I think about it, I’m not sure he has any friends at all. He talks to people, meets people at the bar, but I don’t think anyone knows anything about him or spends meaningful time with him. He keeps himself too closed off for that. “I want to be his friend.”

“I’m sure he wants it too, Uncle Archer.”

I’m not so sure, but I don’t share that with her. And actually, that’s not true. I don’t believe Easton doesn’t want to be my friend; I just don’t think he knows how to let himself.

We continue to the park, then wait for Easton. I’m not at all surprised he adopted that dog. I have no idea how he got his other one, but after seeing her—her limp, missing part of one ear—I assume it’s from the same shelter.

A shelter he volunteers at.

The man everyone thinks doesn’t give a fuck about anyone, the town troublemaker, spends some of his spare time volunteering with animals and adopting the ones no one else wants. The more I learn about him, the more I want to know. I think maybe a part of me wants to become an expert in all things Easton Swift.

He pulls up beside my truck. He and the dogs get out—he’s got a bag in his hand too—and we walk over to find a place in the grass.

“I keep a ball and frisbee in the truck for Pretty Girl. I’m a little nervous to let him off the leash, though. We’ll have to see if the fenced dog area is empty.”

“What are you going to name him?” I ask.

“Not sure yet. Need to figure out what fits. They were calling him Spot, and I’m insulted on his behalf.”

I chuckle, appreciating seeing this different side of East. “He does have that white spot.”

“It’s a terrible name,” he replies.

“I agree with Easton.”

“Who asked you, brat?” I tease Meadow, and Easton almost stumbles. I reach out, putting my hand on his arm.

“I’m fine.”

Okay…I have no idea where that came from, but I often don’t with Easton.

We’re lucky and there is no one else in the fenced area for dogs, so we head there. Easton kneels and unclicks Pretty Girl first. Then he gets close to Spot, saying something to him I can’t hear, before unhooking his leash as well.

Pretty Girl begins sniffing around, and Spot follows right behind her. Wherever Pretty Girl goes, he goes, back and forth, left and right, as if he knows he must stay close to his sister.

“He likes her,” Meadow says.

“She makes him feel safe,” I reply, feeling Easton’s gaze on me. I turn his way and offer a small smile, expecting him to tell me to fuck off or at least look away, but he doesn’t do either of those things. He just…watches, almost like today is the first day he’s seen me and he’s trying to figure out who I am. “What?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and looks away.

“Can I throw the ball for them?” Meadow asks.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if he plays catch, but Pretty Girl does. She might fall, but she always gets back up again,” Easton tells Meadow, and I can’t help wondering if he realizes that he always gets back up again too.

He grabs the tennis ball from the bag and tosses it to Meadow. We watch as she throws it for the dogs, Pretty Girl running after it, tripping, and getting up. Spot runs too, but I’m pretty sure he’s just following Pretty Girl and not the ball.

“How long have you been volunteering at the shelter?”

“A few years.”

“Nice. And your job with Dusty? You like it?”

“It pays the bills.” He keeps watching Meadow with the dogs.

“Have you always liked cars?”

“Is this a police interrogation or what?” He finally turns his blue eyes on me, and I chuckle.

“No. It’s called getting to know someone.”

“You know me.”

“Does anyone know you?” I counter, then wonder if that went too far. Maybe he doesn’t know I’m being playful.

But then Easton offers me a small grin. “Good point.”

“So…”

“God, you’re annoying. I don’t know…I mean, I do like the job. I’m not sure if I always liked cars, but I like them now, which is what matters. It’s… I like that I can get lost in it—just me and the car. I like seeing something beat up become something new again.”

Jesus Christ, this man. I sure hadn’t expected him to say that. To feel it? Yes. To tell me? Nope. There are so many layers to him that I wouldn’t have expected, that I don’t think anyone expects, and again, I realize I want to uncover them all.

“What? You’re staring at me,” he says.

“I guess I like listening to you talk.”

He rolls his eyes, and I admit, it sounds cheesy. But it’s true.

“I think that’s cool—how you feel about cars. And how you adopt dogs in need.” He doesn’t reply, and I nudge him with my arm. “You can ask questions about me too if you want.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

For a moment, I feel the sting of rejection, but then he chuckles.

“You’re a police officer because of Travis.”

I nod, liking that he realizes why and that he remembers my cousin’s name.

“Do you like it?”

“That’s a difficult question.”

“You have to answer. I answered yours.”

Again, he makes me smile. “I was planning on it. In theory, yes, but I acknowledge that problems exist within the community. I’m not blind to them, and sometimes it gets me down, makes me wonder if this is what I should be doing, but then I also want to try and make the world a better place. I’ve organized training programs for how to help those with mental-health struggles, and our department puts a lot of money on education, on diversity training and combating racism.” It’s not nearly enough, but I’ll keep fighting for more.

“I can see that…those things being important to you.”

“They should be important to everyone,” I reply, just as Meadow comes running. Pretty Girl is doing some exploring, and Spot is still following her around.

“I think Spot is in love with Pretty Girl,” Meadow snickers.

“There’s quite a bit of matchmaking going around,” Easton replies, but I’m not sure what he means by that.

I look over and watch Spot with her. “He really is trying to woo her,” I tease.

“He’s a regular Casanova,” East replies.

“Ooh!” Meadow looks delighted. “You should name him Casanova! That’s so much better than Spot.”

“That’s a great name, kiddo, but I’m sure Easton wants to get to know him a little more before he chooses.” I don’t want him to feel obligated to take her naming suggestion.

“I like it,” East replies. “Pretty Girl! Casanova!” he calls out, and both dogs come running. Of course, Casanova is only coming because Pretty Girl is, but it’s a start.

“That’s awesome. I hope Dad lets me get a dog soon,” Meadow says.

“You can always hide one in your room,” Easton tells her.

“East!”

“I’m kidding,” he replies, but I see him giving Meadow a look that says he’s not kidding at all.

I couldn’t be frustrated even if I wanted to. At this point all I can do is laugh.

Meadow’s cell rings, and she pulls it out of her pocket. “It’s Dad.” She answers. “I’m at the park with Uncle Archer and Easton. He got a new dog.” He must be saying something because she’s listening before she says, “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” She ends the call and turns to me. “Dad said he’s done earlier than expected. He’s not far from us, so he’s going to come and pick me up so you don’t have to take me all the way home tonight.”

“Sounds good, kid.”

She takes off with the dogs again, and Easton says, “You two are close.”

“Yeah, she’s great. I love the hell out of that kid. She’s got the kindest heart of anyone I know. Cass is the best, of course. He would burn the world down for that girl if he had to, but outside of that, she hasn’t had the easiest life, though you’d never know it to look at her.”

East doesn’t respond right away, looking out and watching Meadow with the dogs. “Do you want them?”

“Want what?”

“Kids.”

I lean against the fence. “I think so. Might be getting a little late for me if I don’t hurry up.” I laugh.

“You’re only thirty-six.”

“Aw, you know how old I am?”

“Only because you’re my brothers’ age.”

I clutch my heart. “You’re killing me here, East.” Today has been the most conversation we’ve ever shared outside of me trying to get him out of trouble. It’s interesting, seeing this side of him. Having him ask me questions like if I want kids, without me having to prompt him.

“I’m sure you’ll marry some woman who’s just as perfect as you, and then you’ll have perfect kids.” His voice has a rougher edge to it than a moment ago.

“First, I’m not perfect. I have my own shit to deal with. Second, I don’t expect the person I’m with to be perfect either. And last, it could be a guy. I’m bi, you know.”

“If you’re flirting with me, you’re doing a shitty job,” he replies, making me laugh. Part of me really fucking wants to flirt with him, and I guess I innocently have today, but the other part worries about that. If East is interested and we add sex to the mix, I would never want him to think that’s why I’ve been helping him out and spending time with him. Plus, I’m pretty sure fucking him would make him cut off this…friendship?…even quicker.

“Dad’s here!” Meadow points to Cass, who’s walking our way. Easton immediately takes a step away from me.

“Hey, Arch, Easton.”

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” I reply.

“Worried that this volunteering at the shelter is about to backfire on me.” Cass sighs.

“Oh, I can guarantee it is.” When I realize Easton hasn’t said anything yet, I tell Cass, “East adopted another dog today. Saved his life.”

“You would have if I hadn’t.” He keeps watching the dogs.

“You almost got a dog? Actually, that doesn’t surprise me. You’re always trying to save something.”

“Hey, I am not,” I reply playfully, before feeling Easton stiffen beside me. I give Cass a small headshake, and he frowns, but then I’m pretty sure he catches on.

“Thanks for letting her play with your dogs today, Easton. She likes them a lot,” Cass tells him.

“You don’t have anything to thank me for.”

Meadow comes running then, with Pretty Girl chasing her and Casanova bringing up the end.

“Aren’t they cute, Dad?” she asks as Cass kneels and loves on Pretty Girl. Casanova isn’t sure and lingers behind, before going over to stand beside East, who lowers himself to give the dog attention. It’s incredible that East just met this dog a couple of hours ago, but Casanova knows East is safe. Knows that he’s East’s, and that the man most people don’t understand would never hurt him.

“They’re adorable. Did you thank Mr. Easton for letting you play with them?”

“He asked me not to call him that.” She turns to him. “Thank you. I had fun today.”

“They had fun with you too,” he replies. “If…if it’s okay with your dad, you can play with them anytime. It’s okay if you don’t want to, if you get a dog of your own or whatever, but—”

“I want to! Dad, can I?”

Cass ruffles her hair. “Of course. We should get going, though, and let your uncle and Easton hang out.”

Cass stands, and Meadow comes over. “Thanks for today, Uncle Archer.” She hugs me.

“Love you, kid.”

“I love you too.” She heads over to Easton next. “Thanks again!” And then her arms wrap around him, the same way they have done to me too many times to count.

Easton tenses, and for a moment, my heart stops. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, but at the same time, I worry about him saying something that would accidentally hurt Meadow.

But then he wraps an arm around her too, awkwardly pats her back. His voice is thick when he says, “I had fun too.”

She pulls back, huge smile on her face, not realizing how special that moment was.

“Bye, Pretty Girl. Bye, Casanova.”

Cass watches me, and I can see the questions in his gaze, before he wraps his arm around Meadow, and the two of them walk away.

“I should go.” Easton begins hooking the dogs to their leashes.

An unfamiliar panic wells up inside me. It makes no sense. There’s no reason to feel panicky, but I’m not ready for this day to end. I don’t want East to be alone, and somehow, I know that it’s not good for him to be alone tonight, especially—it’s in the way his eyes keep darting around, in the way his voice was slightly rushed when he said he had to leave. “Come home with me. We can have a late dinner.”

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy talking to you,” I reply as he begins walking toward the gate, his dogs on the leash.

He offers a huff in response.

“What? I do. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“East,” I say, and he stops walking. I’m behind him, his back to me.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” he finally says.

“Being your friend.”

He sighs, then turns around. “I don’t want to leave Casanova. It’s his first night with me, and I have work tomorrow.”

“Bring the dogs with you. I don’t care if they come to my house.”

He looks down, seconds pass, a minute, his eyes close, and I can’t help wondering what’s going on inside his head.

Finally, he sighs and looks at me. “Can you even cook?”

I chuckle. “I’m not a chef or anything, but I do all right.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with Pretty Girl and Casanova being at your place? I don’t want them left alone outside. Either they’re inside with us, or we have to be outside with them.”

I wonder how this man doesn’t know how big his heart is. “That’s good with me.”

“Fine. What’s your address?”

“I’ll text it to you.”

“You’re just trying to get my number,” he responds, but gives it to me and I text him my address.

We walk to our vehicles together, and as East goes for his truck, I say, “Hey.” He stops and turns to me. “I’d like you to come eat dinner with me, but you don’t have to. If you don’t show up, I’ll respect your wishes, but I hope you do.”

He doesn’t reply. Just shakes his head, gets in his truck, and drives away.