you’re killing me.’
His grip tightened as he swung her around, protecting her from prying eyes and backing her towards the rear of the marquee.
‘Like you haven’t been thinking about it,’ she said, challenging him to open up a tad.
They hadn’t talked much since the beach, and had fallen into a physical relationship as easily as they’d tumbled in Capri. It had suited her yesterday, not discussing much beyond the present. She’d been on a high, wallowing in the decadence of being in Archer’s arms again.
But today reality had set in.
Considering their proximity, living together, it had been all too easy—almost inevitable—sliding back into a physical relationship with the underlying attraction still sizzling between them.
It shouldn’t mean anything. Sadly for her it did.
Getting physical with Archer had thrust her right back to the same place she’d been eight years earlier: knowing there’d be an expiration date and not liking it.
She also didn’t like being vulnerable to him, and that was exactly what she’d made herself in opening herself to him again.
Incredibly foolish, considering Archer hadn’t fundamentally changed. Footloose, fancy-free and loving it.
The situation reminded her of the many times she’d taken a chance on her dad, when he’d blown into her life, swept her off her feet with gifts and empty promises, only to forget her when he left.
It had been such a buzz being around him. But later the let-down and disappointment and devastation had sucked.
With Archer in Capri she’d made the mistake of masking her feelings, pretending a fling was no big deal. This time she wouldn’t be so stupid.
At the start of this week they might have agreed that spending time together in Torquay was about work and being his date in exchange for the surf school campaign, but getting physical had changed the boundaries.
Their futures weren’t intersecting, but this time she deserved more. She deserved answers.
Why had he really asked her to be his date for the wedding? How could he be so caring with her, especially about her mum, and shut down around his family?
What were his plans? Because from all accounts the guys at the surf school she’d spoken to had collectively mentioned that Archer would be around more often. What could that potentially mean for them?
Because she wouldn’t let him walk away this time. Not without a fight.
She wasn’t the same idealistic, naïve girl she’d been in Capri. Life was short—too short—and second chances were rare, so if she and Archer had a remote shot at making some kind of relationship work she’d take it.
She didn’t want deep and meaningful, but something casual and fun to lighten her days in the tough time ahead with her mum. She was all for that.
Ironic how she’d changed in a few days. She’d initially thought Archer wasn’t a keeper, wasn’t the kind of guy who’d support her when the going got tough.
Maybe he still wouldn’t, but the more she saw him interact with his brothers, Izzy and the teenage surf crew, the more he held her and talked to her about her mum’s illness and what he could do to raise awareness of her horrid disease, the more she realised she’d misjudged him.
He might have broken her heart eight years ago, but she’d changed. Why couldn’t she believe he had too?
Only one way to find out.
Ask the hard questions.
Archer nuzzled her neck. ‘I’ve been thinking of getting you naked again ever since we got here, but there are children present.’
Those questions she needed to ask were momentarily put on hold. ‘Stop. People might see.’
‘Let them,’ he said, his lips trailing down her neck towards her collarbone, nipping along the way.
Her skin rippled with sensation as she arched towards him, wanting whatever he could give.
A low wolf-whistle signalled the arrival of company and Archer swore as they disentangled. ‘If that’s Tom I’m going to kill him,’ he said as Callie readjusted her skewed dress straps.
‘Sorry to interrupt, but we’re doing speeches.’ Travis grinned, not sorry in the least.
Archer shot him a death glare. ‘Can’t you leave that boring stuff until the wedding?’
‘Why? Got better things to do?’
The corners of Archer’s mouth curved up and Callie’s heart gave a little kick. She loved that half-smile, as if he was genuinely amused and loving life.
‘Yeah, and if you had any sense you’d be doing the same thing rather than getting caught up in all this wedding nonsense.’
‘Hey, why not add to the Christmas festivities with a rousing Flett shindig? Keeps the folks sweet, that’s for sure.’
‘It’s a sad day when a Flett male turns into a romantic sap,’ he said. An odd expression Callie couldn’t fathom flitted across Archer’s face as he released her waist to snag her hand.
‘We’ll be there in a sec,’ he added.
A little frown creased Travis’s brow but he merely nodded and walked away, leaving her the perfect opportunity to discover what it was about his family that made Archer tense up.
‘I’ve ordered a whole lot of online gift cards for your family for Christmas. Think that’ll be okay?’
‘Fine,’ he said. But clearly it wasn’t. That little exchange with his brother had left Archer edgy and reticent and standoffish.
She preferred him laid-back and happy, but she wanted answers and there was only one way to get them.
‘Why do you do that?’
He shot her a confused glance. ‘What?’
‘Close off around your family.’
His brow instantly furrowed. ‘That’s bull—’
‘Is it?’
His lips compressed as he stared at his parents, in deep conversation with Tom on the other side of the marquee.
When he didn’t answer, she continued. ‘When your brothers showed up at your house and I walked into the kitchen I could feel the tension. Since then you’ve spent all your time either working or surfing and haven’t visited your folks.’
The slash between his brows deepened.
‘And tonight, rocking up to this party seems like the last thing you wanted to do.’ She blew out a long breath. He was still here, listening. She took it as a good sign. ‘Your family can’t speak highly enough of you, so I don’t get it. Maybe—’
‘Maybe you should butt out.’
Hurt slashed her hopes. Hope he’d changed, hope he’d trust her with the truth, hope they had a future.
She tugged on her hand, but rather than releasing it as she’d expected he held on tighter and swore under his breath. When he finally looked at her, the pain in his eyes made her breath catch.
‘Sorry for snapping at you.’ He gestured towards his family with his free hand. ‘None of this is your fault.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘Not really.’
But he did. She could see the turbulent conflict tearing him up inside as his wild gaze swung between Tom, Trav, his folks and Izzy.
It was as if he waged some great inner battle before his stare softened, fixed on Izzy.
‘I’m not around much any