Page 114 of Archer

“You get that a lot?” I asked.

She beamed up at me. “Not in a long while. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I see folks like that who really get my songs, and it makes me think my dreams are completely possible.”

I wasn’t sure how she ever doubted that.

We walked in silence for several more minutes, her mood improved by the run-in with fans.

And me going over what I’d wanted to say for far too long.

“I owe you an apology.”

Her good mood tempered, and she glanced at me sideways. “Why?”

A low groan of frustration escaped me.

I probably needed to apologize for ruining her good mood as soon as I finished apologizing for this.

Maybe I should just keep a running list until I got better at this.

“After Webb ran—” I started. Stopped. Started again. “I didn’t mean that our night together was a mistake. I know that’s how it sounded, and I understand why you interpreted it the way you did, but it wasn’t my intention. Regardless, I’m sorry that my words hurt you, because I would never knowingly hurt you.”

Her pace slowed as she listened.

The water crashed and pulled back.

Harper didn’t speak.

“He was right there,” I went on. “I failed to stop him. He could’ve hurt you because I let my guard down, and I couldn’t live with that. I was upset and lamenting, angry with myself for letting him get that close to you. Blaming myself for being on duty and not doing the job you trusted me to do. But I need you to believe that I do not for one moment regret our time together or think of it as anything short of a miracle. I do, however, hate that our first time will forever be marked by his attack, and that it will be hard for you to ever think of one without the other.”

Harper stopped walking and turned to me. “I hope you mean that, and you aren’t just trying to make me feel better. Because I’d rather be hurt because you are straight with me than be blissfully unaware that we are on two different pages.”

I shook my head, heart aching. Damn I wanted her to feel the same way I did. Being on the same page with her, about us, was all I wanted. “I wish I had some way for you to get inside my head or heart and understand.”

“Thank you for talking this through with me. Everything is extra hard for about a million reasons, and my interpretation of your tone and words that night felt like a slap. Like betrayal.”

“No.” I moved toward her, careful not to touch, but opening my arms in offer. “Never.”

Harper took my hand. “For the record, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Not about anything, but especially not about this. We made a decision together. That’s not just on you. We knew he was out there somewhere, but we had no reason to believe he’d attack like that. So, please be nicer to my boyfriend, okay. He’s important to me.”

My heart warmed as I looked from her beautiful hazel eyes to the horizon, then back.

“There was a night, overseas, when I wasn’t paying attention the way I should’ve been, and people died.” I hadn’t been easy on myself about anything since that night, and for good reason. I promised I’d never slip up again.

“What happened?”

I inhaled the sharp, sea air, then told the story I never spoke of. “We were on a routine logistics mission, navigating a narrow supply route by convoy. As the passenger in my vehicle, I was in charge of watching the road.” I pressed my back teeth together, forcing the memories and words through my locked jaw. “I’d been on guard duty all day, it was hot as hell, I was worn out before I got in that truck, and I closed my eyes.”

Harper’s small hand squeezed mine.

“The vehicle ahead of ours was absolutely demolished. My partner and I were wounded, but we lived. Others lost limbs. Some lost their lives.” The shame I hadn’t let surface in years roared loose inside me. “If my eyes were open, I might’ve seen the lone animal carcass out by the road or noticed the complete absence of locals in the area. Or the plastic bag on a stick, probably marking the location. We think the device was inside the carcass. We were trained to look for certain things. Drivers drive. Passengers look out. I got too comfortable making that same old trip with no problems, and I let my eyes close.”

Her free hand moved to my bicep. “I’m so sorry for your losses. For your pain.”

I met her gaze, resolved and steadfast. “I vowed in that moment, in the fire, the screams and chaos, I would never lose anyone again on my watch.”

She sighed. “That wasn’t your fault either. You could’ve had your eyes wide open and not seen any of those indicators. You can’t live life based on what ifs, and you can’t not live your life based on past losses. That’s no life at all.”

I set my palm over her hand, where it rested on my arm. “Harper, the only thing I regret about the other night is that I hurt you. That will never be my intention.”