Page 38 of Archer

My heart hammered as I passed him the phone. He answered on the third ring.

“Mr. Stewart?” Archer’s voice was calm, professional. “This is Archer Stone with Carolina Security. I’m answering on behalf of Harper Lawson.”

A pause.

I tried to imagine what Blake was saying.

“No, she’s fine. I’m her private protection detail. She’s hired us to handle her security.” Another pause, longer this time. “I understand you’ve been trying to reach her. I need you to stop. That includes all calls, texts, and emails. Immediately.”

Archer’s expression remained neutral, but I saw his jaw muscle work.

“That’s not my concern,” he said, his tone firm but measured. “Your pattern of contact, however, is making Ms. Lawson uncomfortable. It’s insistent and creating a solid case for harassment.”

Blake’s response must have been defensive, because Archer’s expression hardened.

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m advising you that your continued attempts to contact her could escalate to legal action. I’d hate to see that happen.”

Everything in Archer’s tone suggested he’d love nothing more than escalating to legal action. I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile despite my nerves.

Whatever Blake said seemed to satisfy Archer.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Stewart.”

Archer disconnected and returned my phone. “He says he still loves you and would never do anything to upset or harm you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you believe him?”

Archer’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen. “I’m not sure what I think, but Colton says Blake was photographed at a restaurant in Nashville thirty-five minutes ago. So he’s definitely not here.”

I bobbed my head. “Okay.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Glad, because I hadn’t dated someone who was secretly unhinged? Or sad, because this meant we hadn’t made any progress in finding the culprit?

Archer looked pensive. “He’s been warned, so let’s see what he does next.”

I went back inside, feeling unsettled. “I’m going to make more coffee,” I said. “Mine’s gone cold. Do you want some?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

I busied myself with the coffee maker, needing something to do with my hands. The familiar rhythm and process of preparation helped to steady me. Though I might never sleep again if I kept drinking so much caffeine.

I hummed as I worked, the little melody taking shape as it went. Soft and low, more feeling than sound. And I gave in to it, thankful for the little reprieve.

“That’s pretty.”

I jolted, having momentarily forgotten to be self-conscious.

Archer stood in the doorway, curiosity on his brow.

“What?”

“The song you were humming. What is it?”

“Nothing.” I thought about my answer, unsure how to explain to someone outside my head. “Just some bits and pieces. Sometimes they string themselves together.” And I forget other people can hear me.

He moved closer, and my breath caught. “You should hum more often. You looked happy.”

The coffee maker gave a breathy chug, breaking the moment. I turned to pour two mugs, grateful for the excuse to look away.

“Here.” I handed him a cup, careful not to let our fingers touch.