Page 73 of Archer

Finally, when I’d considered the possibility of being up like this all night, he turned and slid beneath the blankets.

We lay there in the darkness, the white noise of waves and wind outside the window, and the heat of him reaching across the bed to my skin. My eyes adjusted until I could see his profile as he stared at the ceiling. The strong line of his nose, the set of his jaw.

Then, his hand found mine beneath the covers, and he nudged my fingers apart before sliding his in between.

I closed my eyes, holding tight to my sweet protector.

Somewhere out there, Jeremy Webb was probably watching my little cottage.

But I wasn’t alone here in the darkness.

Archer’s breathing evened out beside me as he began to relax. Alert even in stillness.

I rolled onto my side, curling against him and resting our joined hands on his chest. Feeling safer than I had in months.

Chapter 23

Harper

Twenty-four hours after the Instagram post went live, nothing had happened.

No more motion sensor alerts. No sightings of Webb or his rented boat. No ominous deliveries. Just the relentless crash of waves and the suffocating weight of waiting.

I sat at the kitchen table, laptop open, staring at my social media analytics without really seeing them. The post had performed well, gaining thousands of likes, and hundreds of comments from fans saying they missed me, couldn’t wait for new music, and they hoped I was taking care of myself.

Colton had identified three suspicious accounts that all engaged with my content at similar times, used similar language patterns, and had been created within days of each other. All three had liked the sunset guitar photo. We all suspected one or more of those accounts were Webb’s.

But liking a post wasn’t a crime. And it didn’t give us anything actionable.

“You’re going to give yourself a headache,” Archer said from the couch where he’d been reading reports from Nash.

“I already have one.”

“Then close the laptop and come here.”

I shut the computer and crossed to sit by his side. He wrapped an arm around me, and I breathed in the scent of his soap.

“What if this doesn’t work?” I asked quietly.

“Then we try something else.”

“Or I go back to Nashville and just... live with it. Hire private security there. Look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”

His arm tightened. “That’s not going to happen.”

My phone buzzed, and I frowned at Knox’s name on the screen. Normally, he texted Archer.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Hey, Sloane says you’re probably going stir-crazy in that cottage.”

I laughed at the complete lack of preamble or greeting. “I mean, it’s given me time to reorganize the kitchen cabinets and alphabetize Gram’s books.”

“Maggie’s bringing lunch to us at Island Adventures, and we think you and Archer should come. Get some fresh air. See a few friendly faces. Nash and Colton are already here.”

I looked at Archer. A chance to get out of this house sounded like heaven, and even he couldn’t complain about my safety when we’d be with his whole team. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

The little lot outside Island Adventures was full. Archer took my hand when we got out. It was strange to think of the last time I’d been here, terrified and alone. Desperately in need of advice and security. It hardly seemed like the same building. Or the same life.