Page 59 of Archer

Harper set up her laptop, then looked at me with determination in her eyes. “I might not be able to knock this guy out or arrest him, but I’m not completely helpless. I don’t know why it didn’t hit me sooner, but as the center of this whole mess, I have a lot of information to contribute. Problem is, I’m not sure what might be useful. So, there’s going to be a lot of digging.”

I pulled out a chair for her to sit, but she didn’t.

A ghost of a smile crossed her face. Appreciation or pleasure, I wasn’t sure which. Frankly, I loved them both.

“How can I help?” I asked, unsure what her plan was from here.

“We should probably start by addressing this.” She set one small hand on my chest, and electricity zipped through my core.

“Whatever this is, it’s become very distracting. And I know how you worry about distractions.”

“Harper,” I said quietly. “Last night⁠—”

“I know.” Her fingers curled into the material of my sweatshirt and tugged. “You were trying to do the right thing the other night, but maybe the right thing isn’t pulling away.” She turned those big hazel eyes up at me, and I swallowed whatever complaint had been on my tongue. “Maybe the right thing is holding on.”

I searched her face, looking for any sign of uncertainty. All I saw was desire and determination. Unfortunately for me and my professionalism, both were hot as hell.

“So,” she said. “I need to know if, as your employer, this is harassment on my part, or if you want to kiss me too?”

Unfucking believable.

I lowered my mouth to hers in answer.

Harper’s lips were soft and warm against the cold ocean wind. Everything I’d anticipated, and been denying myself, for days was impossibly better than I’d imagined.

She made a small sound of pleasure and rose onto her toes, sliding her hands to the back of my neck, then pulling me closer.

I’d intended to keep our contact gentle. Controlled.

Harper kicked that possibility out the window when she deepened the kiss, melting into my embrace, as if she’d been waiting for this as long as I had.

The realization was like an ignition switch.

I backed her against the table, one hand cupping her head, the other firm on her back. The warm glide of her tongue on mine, the sweet taste of her on my lips.

The friction of our bodies as she arched into me.

Fucking hell.

All rational thought evaporated. Like the memory that we were outside, on her deck, in plain view of anyone on the beach or passing by.

My hands were in her hair. The scent of her was everywhere, and everything about the moment felt natural and right.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Harper’s cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen. She looked equal parts excited and satisfied.

I’d caused that.

And I couldn’t wait to do it again.

Chapter 18

Harper

I spent the rest of my day poring over old photos on my camera and social media, searching for the faces of my sound team. I found them more often than expected, usually in the background, paying no attention to the act on stage. And I’d looked up the logo myself to confirm it was what I’d thought. A sound team, local to Nashville, and commonly contracted for small-venue performances.

I’d run on the exhilaration of the hunt until my eyes closed on their own, and I fell asleep mid-search after midnight. I woke to bright streams of sunlight through my bedroom window and the sound of Archer moving around in the kitchen.

The scent of fresh coffee drifted down the hallway, and I smiled before I was fully conscious.