Sworn to Be His ( The Archer Family 3)

"It wouldn't be for that long. People would think it was just a hiccup in your sanity."

"Right. No way." He tossed his food in the trash and walked away to lean against the cement brick wall.

"I'll do all your paperwork for a week. Come on, it wouldn't even affect your life."

"Except we'd have to disclose it to the whole department and it would be a whole thing—"

"Please, half the people in here have slept together a time or two. Nobody will bat an eye. I'll fill everything out, and I'll do all your paperwork for two weeks. This is all I've ever wanted."

Derrick considered her for a long moment, then sighed. "One month. And the filing, too."

"One month, no filing."

"All or nothing."

She glanced out the window to where Zac was sitting in his cubicle, all chestnut and perfect and handsome. Smiling at someone with the full force of his stunning white teeth.

"Fine. One month and the filing, too. You won't regret it."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Derrick said, then left her beaming in his wake.

Chapter 3

Three hours and as many witnesses later, Jade slumped over a stack of paperwork on her desk and cursed herself for ever agreeing to help Derrick. Or, really, ever convincing Derrick to help her. The second she'd gotten back from lunch, she'd found what looked like a month's worth of overdue warrants and court orders waiting for her—unsorted and lacking any kind of organization. As usual.

Weren't military guys supposed to be more regimented than this? Wasn't that sort of their claim to fame? Why did Derrick Archer have to be the exception to the rule? And why oh why did that also have to be her problem?

To make matters worse, she hadn't seen Zac for the rest of the afternoon, either. He was probably hiding from her, sure that she'd do something else awkward and uncomfortable in his presence. Based on her track record, she had to admit that was a pretty strong possibility.

Glancing around for any superiors, she opened Facebook in her browser and looked for Derrick's name. Naturally, it was there with a little green orb next to it—gotcha.

Typing furiously, she shot him a message:

Jade Lockhart: What the hell is with all this paperwork? Did you break your hands in the past month?

Derrick Archer: I'll admit I've let a few things slide.

Jade Lockhart: Slide? More like avalan

che.

Derrick Archer: Hey, it's not my fault if you didn't do your research before we made our deal.

Jade Lockhart: Technically we never shook on it, so...

Derrick Archer: Still all or nothing. Take it or leave it.

Sighing, Jade typed back.

Jade Lockhart: You're the worst, you know that?

Derrick Archer: On the contrary. I'm the best.

Jade rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair to catch a glimpse of Derrick. He was sorting through some papers—though it was hard to believe he had even more paper than what he'd already stacked on her desk—his black hair flopping in front of his eyes.

That always struck her as odd. The way he kept his hair so long. Not that it looked bad—where most men might look like skater boy wannabes, Derrick looked like he'd just stepped off the set of some television set. No, it was more the fact that Derrick had been in the military for so long that made her wonder at it. Didn’t most men usually keep the neatly shorn buzzcuts of the previous lives after they left the service?

And didn't most men occasionally mention it?