Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Scarlett Hatfield just changed me.
I’m hers.
And while she’s here, she’s mine.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Scarlett
It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen Archer, but we talk and text every day. Something changed the night we went fishing. Neither one of us is willing to talk about it, but I’m certain he’s felt the shift just as I have.
He’s been working long hours. Summer is the busy time of year for him, and he gets laid off in the winter months. When he told me that, my mind immediately went to him visiting me wherever I end up next during that time.
I shut that thought down as soon as it entered my mind. That’s not who we are or what we’re about. Archer is just one of those rare, really nice guys. He’s sexy as hell, and he’s genuinely just good. He’s easy to want to be around. That’s all that this is.
The studio is slow today. We had one shoot on the books this morning in studio, headshots for a relator. That took no time at all, and I found myself working on edits from yesterday’s sessions. Palmer is home today with Remi, and that makes me smile. I’m glad that my being here is giving her this extra time with her daughter. I hate that she’s going to be back to working more hours when I leave, but we both knew the deal when I signed on. I just didn’t expect to develop the friendship that we have. For a girl who spent most of her life as a loner or with her parents, that’s a big deal.
My phone vibrates across the desk, and I welcome the interruption pulling me out of my thoughts.
Archer: How’s your day going?
Me: The studio is quiet. Just one shoot on the books today. Working on edits. Yours?
Archer: Hot as hell, but I’m getting it in.
Me: Stay hydrated.
Archer: Always.
Me: You working late again tonight?
Archer: More than likely. How about you?
Me: Nope. This is our early day. We close up at three.
Archer: Enjoy your afternoon off.
Me: You know I will.
I’m smiling like a fool. I’m glad Palmer isn’t here to witness it. She’s been eyeing me suspiciously for the last few weeks. I’m spending more time on my phone than normal, and she hasn’t missed that. She gives me that look, the same one my parents would give me growing up when they thought I was hiding something. Palmer has the look perfected.
Shaking out of my thoughts, I pull up my Favorites playlist and get back to editing. I find my groove and get lost in my work. Is it really work if you love it? Realizing I’ve been sitting for far too long, I stand and stretch just as the chime over the door alerts me that we have a walk-in guest.
“Welcome to Captured Moments. How are you today?” I ask as I turn and freeze.
“Hey, Firecracker.”
“Archer. What are you doing here?” He’s still in his worn jeans, work T-shirt, and dusty work boots.
“I took the afternoon off. I wasn’t sure I’d make it before you left for the day.”
I glance up at the wall, and sure enough, it’s five minutes before three. I really did lose track of time. “You took the rest of the day off?” I don’t know why I ask. I mean, he just told me he did. “Why?” I ask.
“Do you want the real reason or the reason I came up with on the way here?” He smiles sheepishly.
“Both.” I return his smile.
“So, the reason I came up with is that I’ve been working a shit ton of hours and decided a few hours of vacation time was in order, and I’m craving the food trucks that come to the park in Harris.”
“And the real reason?”
“Well, they’re both kind of real, but the initial reason?” I nod. “I missed you, Scar.”
My chest heaves with how those four words hit me in my feels. “We talk every day.”
“Not good enough.”
“Lines are being blurred,” I tell him.
He nods. “I know.”
“I’m leaving, Archer. It’s not a maybe thing, like Crosby. I am leaving. I’m chasing my dream.”
“I want that for you, Scarlett. More than anything, I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, even if that takes you away from me.”
“Then what are we doing? This was supposed to be fun.” His words and his support of my dreams mean everything to me. It’s hitting me hard that I’ve found a man who doesn’t want to change me. He simply wants to stand next to me. I wish things were different. I wish I had the courage to ask him to stay by my side.
“Are you not having fun with me?” he asks.
“You know I am. But this”—I place my hand over my chest—“isn’t supposed to be a part of that.”
He closes the distance between us. Lifting my hand, he places it over his heart. “It’s too late, Scarlett.”