Chapter 17

Iwas nervous. I didn't know why. It wasn't like we hadn't had dinner before. I already rode on the back of his motorcycle and loved it. There was nothing to be afraid of. But it wasn't fear I was feeling. It was anxiousness.

I was really starting to like the guy. I was worried after a second dinner with me he was going to realize I was a total nerd and not right for him. I didn't want to get dumped again. I had such a horrible track record with men. It seemed impossible for me to find one that actually liked me and wasn't a total loser.

In the back of my mind, I told myself to be prepared for disappointment. The library project was why he wanted to take me out. He said he wanted to discuss the fundraiser. I didn't want to get ahead of myself with a hot guy again. I didn't think I could stand the humiliation a second time. I needed to temper my expectations. I needed to think of this as a business meeting—not a date.

And then if something happened, I would see where the evening took us.

I took a minute to check my appearance in the bathroom. I ran my fingers through my hair and stared at my reflection, looking at every detail. My eyes, my lips, and face as a whole. What did Archer see when he looked at me?

My hair was plain. My looks were plain. I suddenly wished I would have brought some makeup to work with me. I would have liked to have put on a little mascara. I wanted to look pretty for him. Anyone that saw us together was going to know I was punching way above my weight with him.

I heard the sound of a motorcycle and felt a flurry of butterflies in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again. The only makeup, if it could even be called that, was a lip gloss I always carried. I quickly smeared it on my lips and walked out of the bathroom.

Archer was just walking in with his usual swagger. He was carrying a helmet under his arm and he had the usual cocky smile on his face. As usual, that smile awoke feelings in me that made me want to take risks.

"Hey," he said. "Ready?"

"I just need to turn off the lights," I said, trying to sound casual, but I was freaking out inside.

How did he get better looking every time I saw him? He was wearing his usual jeans and T-shirt. Effortlessly handsome, he didn't have to try to look good. The man would look good in anything. Including my bed.

I quickly thrust the intrusive thought aside. Where the hell had that come from? And why did I want to touch his hair so much?

It was always slightly messy, and I couldn't tell if it was done on purpose or if it was just the way his hair was, given the fact he tore around the city on his motorcycle all day. My fingers twitched and I forced my hands to remain at my sides. Would it be full of product, making it stiff and proving he was intentionally going for the rough look? Or would it be soft like silk?

I grabbed my purse and shut off the lights before I did something foolish. We walked out of the library together. He handed me the helmet, and once again, he helped me get it fastened on. This time, he sat down first. I slid in behind him like I had done it a hundred times before.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yep."

I let my hands rest lightly on his waist, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric of his shirt. The rumble of the motorcycle beneath us was thrilling. Archer glanced back at me at a stoplight, a smile playing on his lips as if he knew the effect he had on me. Riding on the back of a motorcycle was very, very intimate. I was essentially getting to feel him up in front of the whole world and it was perfectly acceptable.

He shifted gears with ease, the bike jerking as he increased speed. I wasn't scared. It was an absolute blast. I felt exhilarated and alive, a stark contrast to the anxiety that had gripped me earlier.

He took us to a nice restaurant right on the Trinity River. We got a table outside on the patio with a beautiful view of the water. I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the spring evening. I was here with him, and it all felt so perfect. The sun was just beginning to set when the waitress approached to take our drink orders.

"Anything you want," Archer said.

"Um, a blush wine," I said.

"Coke or Pepsi for me," Archer replied.

I liked that he chose not to drink when he was going to be riding around on that bike.

"So, about the fundraiser," he said, getting right down to business. "The main thing we need for the fundraiser are people with influence and money—those who could get loud and make developers listen."

I nodded, relying on his expertise. He knew a lot more about this stuff than I did. Maybe bikers hosted a lot of fundraisers. If that wasn't the case, we might have discovered a hidden talent of his.

"That sounds great," I said. "But how are we supposed to connect with people like that? I don't really travel in the kind of social circles that include people with deep pockets."

Archer grinned in response. "I do."

"Oh, is that right?" I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. Then I reminded myself I had already made too many assumptions about who he was based on his appearance.

"I was born into a social circle just like that," he said.

"Are there a lot of biker millionaires?"

"I'm serious," he said. "My family rubs elbows with Dallas's big shots. People with way more money than sense."

"Really?" I asked, still waiting for some kind of punchline.

I didn't want to insult him by not believing him, but I couldn't picture him wearing a tuxedo and attending black tie events with the wealthy elite that called Texas home.

"Yes, really," Archer affirmed, a touch of amusement in his eyes. "To save this library, we need a bunch of fancy-pants people supporting us, and my family has some of the fanciest pants of them all."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Archer in a stuffy ballroom, sipping champagne with the elite of Dallas. It was hard to reconcile that with the guy who had just taken me on an exhilarating motorcycle ride through the city.

"I imagine your family must have some thoughts about the man you are," I said with a smile.

Archer's grin widened and he chuckled. "Oh, they certainly do. My mother in particular is quite vocal about the way I live. She was constantly trying to set me up with eligible ladies from prominent families, hoping to secure a suitable match for me within our social circle." His eyes twinkled mischievously as he spoke. "At least she used to. I think they see me as tainted. I have no worries they are going to try and set me up with any of their buddies anymore. It's nice, actually."

The contrast between the high society upbringing he described and the carefree rebel I had come to know was surprising. It was clear that there was more to him than met the eye.

"And they're here in Dallas?"

"They are." He nodded. "Which is great for us."

"How so?"

"My little brother's birthday is tomorrow night," he said. "They're having a party. I want you to come as my date. We can talk to the people we need to open their wallets. They are always looking for a worthy cause to donate to. Makes them feel good about being evil bastards the rest of the time."

"I don't know," I said, chewing my lower lip. "I'm not really the social butterfly type."

I thought it was a great idea, but I couldn't shake the nervousness that settled in the pit of my stomach at the thought of attending a party for Archer's brother. Meeting his family seemed like a really big deal. And if their pants were as fancy as he claimed, I would feel like an unwashed bumpkin with no manners in their presence.

"It's easy," he said. "You hold a glass of champagne, and you mingle. If conversation with one of them dies down, just ask how big their boat is."

I frowned and raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. "And that works?"

"Rich people fucking love talking about their boats," he said, shrugging.

"What if they don't have a boat?" I asked.

He scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. "If they're not rich enough to have a boat, they're not worth talking to. The people who will donate will be boat-rich, I promise."

"I don't know," I groaned. "It's weird."

"Why is it weird?" Archer asked.

Summoning every ounce of courage I had, I spoke the truth. "Because I like you. I like this." I gestured between us.

He arched an eyebrow. "I don't think that's weird."

"Family can complicate things," I said. "They are going to take one look at me and tell me to join the rest of the help."

He laughed. "What? There is a zero percent chance of that happening."

"You say that now," I said, smiling and shaking my head. "They'll order me out of their house and your life. I'm not like the women you said your mother set you up with."

"You're not, but I said that's all over with," he said. "They don't give a rat's ass about who I date now. No offense."

"Some taken."

He smiled. "They don't care about my personal life. Those days are long gone."

"Why?"

He shook his head. "Long story. But this isn't about meeting my family. We're getting the word out about the fundraiser. We can talk up why the library needs preserving. All those things you told me you wanted to do are great selling points too. If all else fails, we can see about naming the place after them. Only thing rich people like more than boats is putting their names on buildings. Really gets their dicks hard." He glanced at me. "Sorry. I can get carried away sometimes."

"It's fine," I said. "And we'll keep that ace in our pocket for now. Let's see how receptive they are to normal donations first."

He grinned. "Perfect. Trust me, my family won't really be around me. My brother is cool, but I only want to go to help get the word out."

As the evening continued, we kept discussing our game plan for the party. He gave me a few more pointers for breaking the ice with rich people. Aside from boats and naming buildings, he suggested topics like vacation homes, the price of jet fuel for private planes, and why no one in this country wants to work anymore.

Excitement mingled with trepidation at the thought of venturing into Archer's world. It was all a step into the unknown. But for the sake of our cause, I was willing to take that leap into darkness, not knowing where I would land. It seemed doable with Archer at my side. He awoke a strength in me.

After dinner we lingered a little longer. "Do you want to go home?" he asked directly.

It was a simple question, but I heard the undertones. He didn't want the night to end and neither did I. "I don't know," I answered honestly.

"We could go for a ride," he offered.

"Okay."

"Or we could go back to my house," he said.

Heat flooded me. "Okay," I heard myself say.

He smiled again. Once again, I was on the back of his motorcycle with my arms around his waist. I didn't want to think about what it meant to be going back to his house. I had no idea what his house would even be like.

I was just going to go with the flow. It was a new thing I'd been trying since I met Archer. If something happened, I would deal with it in the moment. For now, I wanted to step out of my comfort zone and keep enjoying myself.

We pulled through a gate into a community filled with large houses and perfectly manicured lawns. Archer's house was just as big and beautiful as the others. He pulled into the garage and cut the engine. I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the grandeur of his home. Once again, I was shocked. I had misjudged this man in so many ways.

We walked into the house and into a huge, modern kitchen. I could see the living room and dining room from the kitchen. It was all spacious and pretty. A little cold, but since it was such a big space, I understood the sparseness.

My thoughts were interrupted when a shirtless man got up from the sofa. "Oh," I gasped. I was not expecting a half-naked man to jump out of nowhere. He walked toward us. I had no idea if I was supposed to be afraid or what. The man stepped into the light. He was ripped and lean, with a crooked smile and teeth.

He extended his hand toward me. "You must be Mary Ellen," he said. "I wish Archer had texted. I would have put a shirt on."

Archer smiled. "This is Cole. He's staying with me for a while. He's a pain in the ass, but a friend."

"Hi, Cole," I said and shook his hand.

"I'll get out of your hair," Cole said. "He's a good one, Mary Ellen. Treat him right."

I thought it was funny that he thought Archer had something to worry about from me. Cole disappeared into a room way down the hall, leaving us alone.

"Can I get you a drink?" Archer asked. "Tea? Wine?"

Nervousness gripped me. This was it—the point of no return. My answer would dictate the course of the rest of the night. I thought about how much fun I had with Archer, how safe he made me feel, and how he ignited a fire within me that I hadn't felt in a long time.

Rylee would tell me to go for it. She would tell me to seize the moment and enjoy myself. Karen would caution me to move slowly, to tread carefully and not rush into anything.

But maybe I should take Archer's advice. It was time to break out of my comfort zone.

"Wine, please," I finally replied, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach.