* * *

An hour later, I was biking down Briar Road, my basket holding a water bottle, my towel, and my sweet, naughty little dog.

As I rode past Archer's house, I stopped my bike, dragging my feet in the dust. His gate was open slightly. I stared at it, stopping completely. I hadn't seen a mail truck driving back down the road. Had Archer left it open himself? I tilted my head, considering the situation. I brought one finger up and tapped my lips, thinking. Would it be totally uncool to go onto his property uninvited again? Or had he left the gate open slightly as an invitation? Was that completely ludicrous for me to even think? Probably.

I wheeled my bike forward and leaned it against the high fence, picking Phoebe up and peeking my head inside the open gate, just intending on having a quick look. Archer was walking away, toward his house, but when he heard the squeak of his gate, he turned, his eyes on me, no surprise in them.

I stepped inside. Hi, I said, putting Phoebe down and signing. I'm really hoping that your open gate meant that you were okay with me coming in, and that I didn't just trespass again. That would be embarrassing. I grimaced, bringing my hands to my cheeks and holding my breath for his answer.

His deep, amber eyes watched me for a few seconds as color moved up my face, and something gentled in his expression.

He was wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they were about to disintegrate, they had so many holes in them, a fitted white t-shirt–too fitted–and bare feet.

I wanted to show you something, he said.

I let out my breath and I couldn't help the smile that spread over my face. But then I cocked my head to the side, confused. You knew I was coming?

He shook his head slowly. I thought you might. I see the bike tracks.

My face flushed again. "Oh," I breathed out, not signing. "Um…"

Do you want to see, or not?

I just looked at him for a second and then nodded. Okay. Wait, where's your axe?

He raised one eyebrow, studying me for a couple beats. Is that you being funny?

I laughed, feeling delight in the fact that he had brought up our last conversation. Touche. I grinned. What do you want to show me?

They're right over here.

They? I asked, walking forward with him, down the driveway, through the trees.

He nodded, but didn't expound.

Phoebe saw a bird take flight across the lawn and went running after it as fast as her short legs could carry her.

We reached his little house and took a few steps down the small porch, only big enough for the white rocker and small storage box it held.

He moved the rocker aside and I gasped.

Oh my God! I said, sucking in a breath and moving forward.

That sound you said you heard a few days ago? That was Kitty here giving birth.

I grinned as I looked down at the sleeping mama dog, three tiny, brown puppies, rooting lazily at her belly, clearly having just eaten and falling into a milk coma. But then my brows furrowed when I processed what he had just said and I looked over at him. Your dog is named Kitty?

He moved his hair out of his face slightly, looking at me. Long story. My uncle confided in me that the animals on our property are spies who worked for him, and he named them accordingly. Her full name is Kitty Storms. She was trained by the Russian Foreign Intelligence Agency. She works for me now.

Uh oh, this wasn't good. I see, I said. And you believe this? I eyed him warily.

Well, her operations are mostly kept to squirrel tracking and apparently, he gestured to where she slept with the puppies, covert meetings with fertile male subjects. Something that looked like it might be amusement danced in his eyes.

I breathed out a laugh and then shook my head. So, your uncle was a little…

Paranoid, he said. But harmless. He was a good guy. I thought I saw a brief flash of pain wash over his features before he turned his head to the puppies again.

I touched Archer's arm and he jolted and turned to me. I heard your uncle passed away a few years ago. I'm sorry.

He looked down at me, his eyes sweeping over my face. He nodded, barely perceptible and turned back to the puppies once again.

I studied his profile for a few seconds, noting how nice it was, at least what of it I could see. Then I bent down to get a closer look at the puppies.

I grinned back up at Archer who squatted down next to me. Can I hold one? I asked.

He nodded.

Are they boys or girls?

Two boys, one girl.

I scooped up one little warm, soft body and brought it to my chest, cradling its sleeping weight and nuzzling my nose into the soft fur. The puppy mewled and started rooting at my cheek, its wet nose making me giggle.

I looked at Archer who was watching me closely, a small smile on his lips. It was the first one I had gotten and it startled me slightly. I stared at him, our eyes meeting and tangling just like the first time we had met. I felt confused as everything inside me sped up. I stared at him, rubbing my cheek absently against the velvety softness of the puppy's fat belly.

After a minute, I put the puppy down so I could sign, Thank you for showing them to–

He reached out and stopped my hands, looking into my eyes. I looked at him questioningly and then moved my eyes down to his large hand resting on mine. He had beautiful hands, powerful, but elegant at the same time. I looked back up at him.

He brought both hands up and said, You can speak the old-fashioned way. I can hear you, remember?

I blinked at him and after a few seconds brought my hands up. If it's okay with you, I'd like to speak your language. I smiled a small smile.

He stared at me, an unreadable expression in his eyes before he stood up.

I have to get back to work, he said.

Work? I asked.

He nodded at me, but chose not to elaborate. Well, okay, then.

Then I guess I should go?

He just looked at me.

Can I come back? I asked. To see the puppies?

He frowned at me for a second, but then nodded, yes.

I breathed out. Okay. If your gate is open, I'll know it's okay to come in.

He nodded again, a smaller nod this time, barely noticeable.

We stared at each other for a few more seconds before I smiled and turned around and walked back up his driveway. I called to Phoebe who came running this time and scooped her up. I turned around at his gate and he was still standing in the same place, watching me. I waved a small wave and closed his gate behind me.

CHAPTER 11

Bree

The next day, I walked down Archer's driveway hesitantly, biting my lip. I heard what sounded like rock hitting rock somewhere on the back side of his house. As I rounded the corner, I spied Archer, shirtless, on his hands and knees laying stones for what looked like the beginning of a side patio.

"Hi," I said softly, and his head snapped up. He looked slightly surprised, but… pleased? Maybe? He certainly wasn't the easiest person to read, especially since I couldn't see all of his features clearly under his beard and the hair that fell over his forehead and around his jaw.

He nodded and raised his hand, indicating a big rock that was sitting to the right of his project and went back to his work.

I had left the diner at two and then gone home and taken a quick shower, gotten on my bike and ridden out to Archer's. I had left Phoebe with Anne because I wasn't sure if other dogs should be around the puppies yet or not.