Page 129 of Whisper Sweet Nothings
Cutler whistled. “You’re a lucky man, Uncle Archie. Your girl’s got an in with the most popular bunny in town.”
Emerson laughed as she walked over to us. “Seems like the Easter Bunny has been busy this year.”
Melody ran over, cheeks flushed and brows cinched together, because she was all business now. “Here’s your basket, Beefcake. Let’s start looking, and we can help each other.”
“Always, Mel.” He took her hand and led her toward the large tree across the grassy yard.
“Daddy! Winnie!” Melody could barely speak as Cutler held up an Easter basket that was filled with pink treats and stuffing. And then he handed it to her and picked up the next one, which was filled with white and yellow stuffing and all sorts of treats. “He brought our baskets outside.”
I glanced over at Winnie, who was watching the two kids like they hung the moon. A wide grin took over her face as she jogged toward them, acting like she was completely surprised.
“What? He hid some baskets out here?” she said with a laugh. She dropped down in the grass while Melody and Cutler pulled out all their treats and held them up for everyone to see.
My daughter’s body shook the slightest bit with excitement.
Winnie stood and started taking a few photos of them with her Polaroid as Emerson took pictures with her phone alongside my mom and my aunt Ellie.
Music played through the outdoor speakers, and the sun was shining down on us.
It was a perfect day.
Lulu and Rafe walked over and stood beside me.
“You better hold on tight, Archie. I think we’re all in love with her,” Lulu said with a laugh, and Rafe wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder and kissed her cheek.
I couldn’t agree more.
I just needed to be careful that I didn’t hold on too tight.
thirty-four
. . .
Winnie
I hatedthe departure lanes at airports. The cars pressing on their horns, and the security guards directing people to move forward. Travelers who were in a hurry moved past me, dragging their wheeled bags behind them.
And I felt this overpowering need to tell Archer that I loved him.
He’d put the truck in park and jumped out to grab my bag. I adjusted my crossbody purse across my chest and slipped my backpack over my shoulders when I stepped out to the curb.
A loud whistle startled me as the security guard shouted: “That truck can’t stay there, buddy.”
Archer held up a hand in acknowledgment. “Just getting her bag out.”
He smirked at me, all sexy and confident.
Do it. Tell him.
It had been weighing on me. I felt it. I knew he felt it, too.
Why were we holding back?
And I was leaving for three weeks. I needed him to know.
“You okay?” he asked as he stroked the side of my face.
I nodded, feeling my eyes well with tears.
