Page 34 of Archer

I’d need a nap by lunchtime every day if this was going to be my new normal.

“Thanks.” I wrapped my hands around the warm mug. “I’m not much of a morning person, so you might have to remind me about the bathroom schedule we talked about.”

A hint of amusement crossed his face. “What if we both just agree to knock?”

“Right. Good.” I took a long drink of coffee, needing the caffeine to function. “What time did you get up?”

“Four-thirty.”

“Ew.”

Archer made a low sound, reminiscent of a chuckle. “That a problem?”

“I’m more of a night owl. I don’t think I’ve seen four AM without being up all night writing.”

“I’ll try to be quiet when I get ready. Did I wake you today?”

“No. I’m a heavy sleeper.” Usually. Last night, however, I’d lain awake listening to him move around the cottage, hyperaware of his presence only one room away.

“Rough night?” he asked, reading my mind again.

“I talked to Alexis for a long while. When I did sleep, I dreamed my stalker was in the cottage. I got up to check the window locks four times.”

Disappointment marred his handsome face.

“It’s not your fault.”

He nodded, but the way he stopped meeting my eyes said he disagreed.

We stood in the kitchen, drinking coffee in silence. Both trying to figure out how to act normally in a very unusual situation.

“I should get to work,” Archer said. “Knox is bringing the new locks this morning. I want to get them installed before lunch.”

“Do you need help?”

His cheek twitched. “No. You should focus on your music.”

Right. Songwriting. The thing I hadn’t been able to do for weeks.

“Okay.”

Archer rinsed his mug and set it in the sink. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

I watched him go, then carried my coffee to the living room. My guitar sat in the corner where I’d left it yesterday.

I settled onto the cushions and pulled the instrument into my lap. Closed my eyes. Listened for the ocean’s rhythm. Then searched for something more. Notes. Words. Anything.

My mind wandered to the music box.

Anything except that, I thought.

I refocused and tried the three chords from yesterday again. I hummed possibilities. Changed the progression.

Still nothing.

Outside the windows, Archer strode around the perimeter of the cottage.

I strummed the guitar absently, watching him work.