Page 6 of Archer
“Hey there, Danny. I think you’re right. I think dinosaurs like to roar. Not take pictures. Can you tell me what he says again?”
He nodded seriously and tossed his head back, drawing in a deep breath before letting it rip. “Raaawwwrrr!”
I chuckled. “Exactly. Will you let me hold him for a second? I think he might like to watch you get your photo taken better than having to smile for the camera.”
He looked at me doubtfully, but Sarah said something in his ear, and he reluctantly hopped up and brought me the toy.
“He won’t bite me, will he?” I tried to sound serious as I took it.
“He’s a”—he paused, searching for his word—“he’s a herpaplore. He eats flowers, not people.”
“I see. Good to know.” I was pretty sure that he was a T-Rex, and they weren’t herbivores at all, but I wasn’t going to argue with him.
“Come back over here, Danny,” Sarah said. “Mr. Bushard will take good care of Dino.”
He looked at me suspiciously but did as she said and ran back over. Ross straightened Lucy’s skirt, and they all looked back up at me expectantly.
“Alright, Henderson family! Big smiles!” I called, lifting the camera.
An hour later, I’d managed to get some pictures of the kids together on the bench, and now they were running around the yard playing. I was packing up all my gear when Sarah came over. “Sorry, Archer. I know they’re a handful.”
“I think I got a lot of fun shots of them, though. I think you’ll have a hard time choosing.” I’d send her a link later where she could go and look at all the photos and decide which ones to have printed. I wasn’t about to tell her that her kids weren’t a handful, but I think I got enough great shots to make it difficult to pick which ones to keep.
“Well, thank you. I can’t wait to see them.”
By the time I carried everything out to the car and put it in the back of my SUV, I was beat. I’d been trying to eat better, but on days like this, I wanted pasta. And not just any pasta. I wanted the Chicken Française from Bellissimo, but it was on the other side of town, in the complete opposite direction from home.
It was only about a fifteen-minute drive from here to my place, and I really wanted to go home. Of course, if I ordered food now, I’d have plenty of time to get home and take a quick shower before theDoorDashperson showed up.
Hmm, to behave or not to behave, that was the question, I thought as I pushed the button to close the hatch. I went around the car and was reaching for the hand on the driver’s door when I heard a loud roar from the backyard followed by a shrill squeal and thought, fuck it. Tonight, I wanted comfort food, and I wanted someone else to bring it to me.
Crispin
Today had been a long day. Normally, after having as many classes as I’d taught, I’d have gone back to my brother’s house and crashed. Unfortunately, my brother had texted me that my parents had shown up at his place. As tired as I was, I wouldn’t be able to relax with my father there, so I decided I might as wellDoorDashand make some extra money. It was probably a sign from the universe.
My first class this morning only had half the usual number of participants, and my last session tonight had consisted of only one woman. As much as that sucked financially, it was a blessing for me. Just the two of us essentially led me to giving her a private session, which included meditation, and me making a last-minute decision to pull out my crystal singing bowls. I knew from prior classes that she enjoyed them as much as I did.
After changing clothes before I left the studio, I picked up an order from Bellissimo’s. As luck would have it, I again headedback to the old Windsor Hotel. The order didn’t have any special instructions for delivery, so I knocked on the door. When no one answered right away, I banged on it a little harder, ready to leave the bag in the hall and shoot the customer a text if they didn’t respond this time.
“Hold on,” came a deep, hurried voice from the other side.
“Sure, take your time,” I whisper-yelled back, not wanting to disturb the other residents on this floor.
The man who answered was the very definition of eye candy. He was bare from the waist up with a liberal sprinkling of chest hair and gray sweatpants slung low on his hips.Yummy.I took a moment to appreciate the display since he was running a fluffy towel roughly over the top of his head.
“Hey, sorry. I took a quick shower. You arrived faster than I expected,” the man said, lowering the towel. I gaped up at him. It was Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody. And hot damn, now that we were so close, compared to me, he really was a giant.
His eyes widened. “I… hello.”
With the hand not carrying the plastic bag containing his order, I waved. “Hello,” I squeaked. Good grief. What was wrong with me?
His gaze perused my body quickly, and I suddenly felt self-conscious. I’d changed into my dashing gear, a pair of baggy black jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It was the safest way forme to deliver, but not what I normally wore when attempting to attract a sexy man. Darn it. Why had it never occurred to me that I might run into Mr. Sexy while delivering here at the hotel? I’d have been more mindful of my appearance. “Uh… don’t you usually eat at the bar?”
His face went through a series of twitches like he was confused. Of course he was. He didn’t know I’d taken to searching the bar for his presence every time I passed by. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry. It’s none of my business.” I waved my arm frantically, completely embarrassed, and pivoted on my toes to get the hell out of there.
A gentle hand gripped my forearm before I took two steps. “Is that for me?” he asked, pointing at the bag in my hand with an amused grin.