Page 18 of Knights Like These
“Kids are down,” he says. “Luke requested that I tell you goodnight from him. Exact words: ‘Tell Syd goodnight. And tell her sharks sleep with one eye open.’”
I laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He leans against the wall, hands in his pockets. “I want to pay you.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Syd.”
“No. You’re not paying me to hang out with your kids.”
“You’re nothanging outwith them. You’re raising them while I’m on the road. That’s a job. I’m paying you.”
“I don’t want your money, Archer.”
“This isn’t up for negotiation.”
We stare at each other. He’s got that jaw tick thing going, the one that means he’s already decided and the conversation is just a formality. I’ve seen this face a hundred times. It’s the face he makes when he’s in the crease and someone’s winding up for a shot and he’s already picked his angle.
He names a number.
I open my mouth. Close it. “That’s too much.”
“It’s what a nanny in this city costs.”
“I’m not a nanny.”
“You’re right. You’re better. So take the money and stop arguing with me.”
I want to fight him on this but the truth is my savings account looks like a cry for help right now, and he knows it, because Archer has always known when I’m struggling even when I don’t say it out loud.
“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it, even though the word feels too small.
“Thanks for today, Syd. For the dancing and, uh—for staying. For wanting to stay.”
“Always.”
The word comes out before I can catch it. Too honest. Too much. I see it register on his face—a slight shift, his eyes holding mine for a beat longer than normal.
“Goodnight, Syd.”
“Night, Arch.”
He heads upstairs. I stay on the couch and think about the woman at the restaurant.
You have a beautiful family.
I pull the blanket over my legs, and the house settles around me—his footsteps above, the fridge humming, and I sit in the middle of all of it, in this life that isn’t mine, wondering how long I can keep pretending I don’t want it to be.
Chapter Six
Accidental Cuddle Sesh
Sydney
Archer has been home for two hours, and we’ve already argued about pizza toppings and whether Lily needs a bath tonight. She doesn’t think she does, and he’s not sure. I pointed out that she has yogurt in her hair, and that settled it, though Lily disagreed loudly from the hallway.
It’s Wednesday. I’ve been here five days. I know where the grocery store is, which gas station is closest, that the Lexus drinks premium fuel, and that Luke needs extra cuddles before bedtime. I know that Lily sings to herself in the bath and that Archer drinks his coffee standing at the kitchen window, watching the street like he’s expecting someone.
