Save Me (The Archer Brothers 3)

I squeeze Claire’s hand, but refrain from introducing her. Some things are left unsaid and this is one of them.

“I just wanted to thank you in person.”

“You’re welcome,” he says as I turn and leave.

Back in the car I pull up the directions Tucker sent me, plug them into my GPS, and head off in the right direction. While I remember most places, going someplace new could be a challenge. It’s only a matter of minutes before I’m crossing the bridge into Coronado.

“We’re up so high. Oh, Mom, look at those planes.”

I try to look but am afraid I’ll swerve off the bridge. The first night I met Tucker he showed me the planes and told me he’s the guy who protects me while I’m sleeping. I still believe that about him.

“They’re all over the place around here.”

“And that boat.”

“It’s a ship, honey. Tucker can take you on one if you want to go.”

Claire presses her face to the glass and sighs. “Do you love him?”

“Yes, I do,” I tell her truthfully. I never stopped loving him. “But I also love Ray just as much.”

“But he’s gone and Tucker’s not.”

“No, Tucker isn’t and he’s not going anywhere. I think if you give him a chance, you might like him.”

“We’ll see,” she says, sighing again. I can’t force her, but I may push her a little. Tucker and her could have a few daddy and daughter days while we’re here.

As soon as I’m off the bridge and into downtown, everything is coming back to me. I loved living here. The town is cute, quaint, and very friendly. Not to mention the eye candy that’s always walking around. Even when Tucker and I were together, I’d often comment, especially with Ryley, about the very good looking men. Tucker would act hurt, but he knew I only had eyes for him.

My GPS tells me I’ve reached my destination when I pull up in front of a cute yellow bungalow. Claire is out of the car as soon as I shut it off and walking through the white picket fence gate before I can even verify the address or get out of the car. For someone who is hell bent on not welcoming Tucker, she sure is eager to see his house.

I quickly follow her up the stone path and onto the pergola covered porch. It only takes seconds for me to see myself out here tomorrow morning sipping on iced tea. Tucker didn’t buy this house for himself; he bought it with Claire and I in mind. He knew I’d love the porch.

Claire knocks and stands at the door with her foot tapping. I want to tell her knock it off, but it’s sort of cute. I don’t know if she’s thinking the same thing I am, but I figured he would’ve been waiting at the door for us as soon as we pulled up.

The door swings open and a freshly showered Tucker is standing there with just his shorts on. His chest is wet from his dripping hair and I find myself swallowing hard as I gawk at him. It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to see his perfect, for me, body in the flesh.

“You’re early, you said five.”

I pull out my phone and look, noting that he’s right. “We can leave.”

“Don’t be silly. Let me get your bags.”

He walks by us and toward my rental car to retrieve our stuff. When he first suggested we stay with him I didn’t want to. I thought it’d be awkward and uncomfortable, but he insisted, saying he’d sleep on the co

uch. And now that I’m standing here, I’m sort of pissed he didn’t pull me into his arms and give me a sweet welcome.

He comes back with his arms full, so the thought of a hug still isn’t possible. He pauses long enough to give me a smile that makes me weak in my knees and winks at me.

“Come this way, ladies,” he says, motioning with his head.

I walk in after Claire and take in the beauty of this home. This is exactly the type of home we talked about owning one day when he was retired. The living room is lit by natural light through multiple skylights and a large ceiling fan circulates the air. The kitchen is off to right as you walk in, and is white with light blue accents, giving it an ocean feel.

“This way to your rooms.”

We follow Tucker down the hall, stopping behind him when nods to the right. “This is the bathroom,” he says and both of us look inside. It’s a soft yellow and very feminine with a window facing the side yard.

“This is your room,” he says, glancing at Claire. A while back I told him she wanted to be called Chloe, but he refused and I know why. I was hoping that after his grandmother visited us, she’d change her mind, but she hasn’t said anything. I don’t blame her really since all her friends know her as Chloe.