Archer's Angels

by Tina Leonard

  “I don’t want anything from her,” Archer said, turning to walk toward the Lonely Hearts Salon. “She has an attitude reminiscent of Tonk.”

  “And we call Tonk dog-faced. Think it over, bro.”

  “Clover’s not unattractive,” Archer said. He realized what Bandera had said. “And neither is Tonk!”

  His brother laughed. “I pick the girl on the bar stool,” he said. “I like a lady who’s easy on the eyes.”

  “Looks aren’t everything,” Archer said stubbornly.

  “But they are the first ticket to my heart, followed by my stomach being fed, my muscles being admired, my laundry being done, and my sex—”

  “That’s enough,” Archer interrupted, getting crosser by the moment. “Glandular responses will remain undiscussed.”

  A window opened above them. “Archer!”

  “What?” He wondered what his glasses-wearing newcomer wanted now.

  “Where’s the best place in town for drinks and dancing?”

  Archer blinked. “Two-Bits.”

  “Thanks.” She shut the window.

  Bandera slapped him heartily on the back. “And you were worried about her being lonely. Sad. Homesick. A tragic heroine in a black governess dress right out of Jane Eyre.”

  Archer turned toward Delilah’s. “I can’t picture Clover dancing.” He didn’t want to, either.

  “It’s the quiet ones who’ll surprise you.”

  Archer shook his head. “I reckon.”

  “Night’s still young,” Bandera said. “If the wild girls are going dancing, maybe we should provide some partners.”

  “Now, that idea has some merit,” Archer said cheerfully. He’d be willing to bet Clover’s idea of dancing was standing by a plastic banana tree, watching everybody else shake a leg.

  Finding out that she was an unwatered wallflower would make him feel a whole lot better.

  Chapter Four

  Clove realized there was a problem with The Plan after spending the early part of the evening getting to know Archer better. Though his e-mail conversations had been Texas tall tale, in person he was Texas short story, she thought, annoyed. All bark, definitely no bite. Not even a nibble.

  Apparently, the hook was not properly baited. Bandera had really gone for her as the bar-stool babe. If Archer had, he’d tried to conceal it.

  He concealed a lot, this cowboy she’d come to romance. Somewhat rude at times, and definitely in need of a manners injection. Not as kind and poetic as he’d been in cyberspace.

  She felt a bit betrayed. He was not going to ravish her; in fact, she doubted he’d ravish any woman. He was more a chauvinistic protector. How dare he tell her she couldn’t stay at Marvella’s! Breathing deeply to get past the memory of his pigheadedness, Clove told herself to remember the bundles of babies his family had produced. Twelve brothers, for starters, and miscellaneous progeny.

  “I just want one,” she said longingly. “One.”

  John Wayne had had his good side, mixed in with his arrogance, she remembered. Still, Archer seemed to be more arrogant than cowboy gentleman.

  “Well, at least my heart won’t be in jeopardy where he’s concerned,” she told herself. A good stuntwoman always saw to her safety first, and after getting to know Archer better, she knew her heart was totally, completely safe.

  “Maybe safer than I want it to be.” She gazed in the mirror. When she’d yelled down to ask him about a place to go dancing, she had hoped he would offer to escort her.

  He hadn’t—and she had to admit that this cowboy was going to be tough to catch. The most bothersome part was that Archer wasn’t remotely attracted to her.

  Picking up a curling iron, she absently pressed a curl into her hair. It bounced when she released it—and The Plan took on a modification. She began to do her hair the way Marvella’s girls had styled it earlier, Texas big and poufy. Tousled. Sexy. She applied the makeup the way they’d had it earlier, and then she shimmied into a tube-top dress she found in the closet. High heels completed her outfit.

  “The revenge of the nerdy girl,” she told herself, laying her glasses on the cosmetics tray. “Revenge is supposed to be so sweet.”

  The girls knocked on her door. “Ready?” they called. “Going out with us, Clover?”

  “I’m ready!” Fluffing her hair one last time, she saw the woman Bandera had admired gazing back at her. “I’m definitely going to Marvella’s school to learn Hot-Babe Style 101. Then I’m going to get my cowboy,” she said with satisfaction to her reflection. “Archer Jefferson, you’re not going to know what hit you!”

  “THERE SHE IS!” Bandera said as they walked inside Two-Bits bar. “The bar-stool babe!”

  Archer peered through the smoky atmosphere and clinging partners. In the light from a neon beer sign, he saw her moving, laughing and snapping her fingers. Dressed in a dress practically painted on her lush body, she danced in a circle with a group of men and Marvella’s stylists. “They’re having fun,” Archer observed.

  “They sure are, and I’m on my way to do the same.” Bandera took off to include himself in the circle, perilously close to the woman he fancied.

  She was hot, Archer conceded. He liked a full-figured lady, and especially one with such nice skin. The breasts were nothing to ignore as they lightly jiggled under the tight material. Idly, he wondered if she was wearing a bra. Strapless dresses just begged to be tugged right off a woman, in his opinion. She had nice legs, and to be honest, he was a madman for high heels.

  Checking the door, he wondered when Clover would arrive. He intended to keep an eye on her, because heaven only knew she could get in trouble in a place like this.

  “You should dance with me,” Bandera’s beauty said.

  He stared at her, then glanced at his brother. Bandera was surrounded by three Never Lonely Cut-n-Gurls, and the evening looked to be going strong from his perspective. Bandera wasn’t even glancing their way.

  “I’m waiting on someone,” he said.

  She looked so disappointed, almost crushed. His bravado, which Clover and Tonk seemed to have teamed up to kick to smithereens, rose a bit.

  “Now, don’t take it too hard,” he said. “You’re beautiful, no question. I would dance with you anywhere, anytime.”

  “But?” she prompted.

  “But I’m waiting on this crazy little girl to show up. She’s new to town and real unsophisticated. You know what I mean? The kind who’d get lost on a sunny day.”

  Her eyebrows rose. She had clear, pretty blue eyes, and the just-teased tangle of her silvery-blond hair was appealing. Made a man’s fingers want to wander there.

  He glanced toward the door again. “She probably got lost on her way here,” he said. “I should have offered to escort her.”

  “That would have been chivalrous,” she agreed, “but you didn’t, and so now you and I are stuck waiting for a mystery person to show up.” She pulled him by the hand, though he didn’t fight too hard. Once on the dance floor, he’d shift her over to Bandera, and go back to watching out for Clover. He shot a quick glance toward the potted banana tree strung with white lights, to make certain she wasn’t hiding over there.

  Cool skin slid into his arms, and he was jerked into the present predicament. “Gosh,” he said. “You feel good.”

  “So do you, cowboy.” She smiled at him, happy that she’d managed to disguise her accent completely.

  They moved well together, Archer acknowledged. Bandera was glowering at him, but Archer shrugged. It had been ages since he’d held a soft woman, and this one was firm and ripe, and her lips were glossy—

  “Once upon a time I dreamed of a cowboy like you,” she said. “He was strong and powerful, and he knew how to romance a woman.”

  “I know how to romance a woman,” Archer said. He could feel his arms warming from the heat her body was beginning to give off. Glowing embers turning to a sexual fire he hadn’t felt in a long time—maybe ever. Frowning, he stared down at her, wondering if she k
new she was working over his testosterone.

  “You could show me,” she suggested. “I like romance.”

  She was definitely coming on to him.

  He glanced toward the door, watching for Clover.

  The woman in his arms pressed lightly into his body, a full-length hint of the wonders available.

  Taking a deep breath, Archer decided that opportunity only dropped sporadically into a man’s life, and when it did, it needed to be seized by the throat.

  “Think my brother had his eye on you,” he said gruffly, his energy now captured by the fantasy of tugging the dress off of her.

  “He may have,” she said lightly, “but he doesn’t know me like you do.”

  “Really?”

  She looked at him with guileless eyes. Then she lowered her head onto his chest, in a gesture he would have to call gentle surrender. “Really,” he heard her murmur.

  That was it. Female-led seduction, his favorite pastime.

  He dragged her off by the hand.

  CLOVE HELD HER BREATH as Archer led her to his truck. She got in when he held the door open for her, and then she stared out the passenger-side window, hoping he wouldn’t look beneath the hair and curls to find plain ol’ Clove. Unsophisticated, he’d called her. Thought he had to watch out for her, a touch of pity in his voice.

  His hand snaked around her wrist, surprising her as he pulled her across the bench seat toward him. Then he kissed her hot and fast and hard, and in that moment, Clove knew she’d underestimated her man.

  He was everything he’d bragged about in his e-mails.

  He just wasn’t showing it to “Clover.”

  The way she was now brought out the beast in him. She had rattled the cage.

  Pulling back to look at her, Archer said, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  “You went quiet on me.”

  It was too quiet in his truck. In the bar, it had been loud and they hadn’t talked enough for him to recognize her. He’d also been scoping the door, not paying attention to her until she’d fairly propositioned him.

  Switching the radio on to turn his mind from chivalry, she kissed him, reminding him of why they were in the truck.

  “All right, then,” he said a moment later. “I take it that means yes. I’m in the mood for a swim. Hope you are, too.”

  In February? Not likely, but if it meant getting him down to his boxers, then she would swim with polar bears in the Arctic.

  He put his hand around hers, driving with his other hand. Clove closed her eyes, thinking about Lucy.

  Just one baby.

  A few minutes later, Archer parked the truck at a creek wooded with trees. He shone the headlights of the truck into the darkness for a few moments, then switched them to low. Putting the radio on a sexy jazz station, he said, “Now let’s dance properly.”

  She went out the driver’s side behind him, sliding into his arms.

  “God, I never realized a woman could feel this good,” he said. “You’re like satin.”

  They danced together wordlessly after that, until the station went to commercial. Then he took Clove by the hand, leading her toward the water. “I was teasing about swimming,” he said.

  “I’m brave,” she said softly. “I can handle it if you can.”

  “Skinny-dipping in February? No, my plan is to keep you warm.”

  She thought he would find a grassy spot for them to lie, but instead he walked with her, their fingers interlaced.

  “This is one of my favorite places on earth. My brothers and I used to come here to swim after rodeos.”

  He ran a hand across her bare shoulders. Clove shivered at the caress, her breath held nervously.

  “You’re cold,” he said. “Come back to the truck.”

  She wasn’t cold, but she followed him, anyway, enjoying his concern for her. He let down the gate of the truck bed, spreading a blanket for them. Turning off the truck lights, he crawled into the bed, pulling her up to join him. Then he covered them with another blanket and rested her head on his chest.

  “You’re prepared for everything,” she whispered.

  “No, I’m not. If I was, I’d have a bottle of champagne cooling in an ice chest,” he said. “See those stars?”

  “Mmm,” she said, loving the feel of his chest and hearing his heart beat fast.

  “One of those stars has your name on it,” he said. “What is the name of that star?”

  “It’s a secret,” she whispered into his ear, straddling him to kiss his face.

  “I like secrets,” he said, pushing his hands underneath her dress to run his hands over her bare bottom. “You have on no underwear,” he said with surprise. “You little daredevil!”

  THERE WERE SECRETS and then there were secrets, Clove thought, quietly getting down out of the truck three hours later. She knew the town wasn’t far, and she wanted to be long gone before her cowboy awakened.

  It had been a night she’d never forget. They’d made the truck rock like mad, and she’d learned that giving up one’s virginity was easy when the pleasure was that intense. They’d made love over and over again, hungry for each other. When he’d asked about birth control and offered a condom, she’d said she was fine.

  At the final second, she’d confessed her virginity, hoping he wouldn’t hop out of the truck.

  He hadn’t. He’d been quite tender and considerate of her.

  She hurried, knowing Archer could wake up any minute and realize she’d left. It was a good thing she knew the real Archer, the grouchy one, or she would definitely have lost her heart to him tonight. What a tender lover! So romantic, yet so masterful. She got chill bumps thinking about it.

  Thirty minutes later, she quietly let herself into her bedroom, closing the door. She took a shower, glad to be rid of the curls and the makeup. Snuggling into her covers, she smiled, thinking about Archer.

  It was good to be herself again.

  Only, tonight he’d changed her, made her feel beautiful. Given her appreciation of her woman’s body.

  She would never forget him.

  Chapter Five

  Three months later

  In Delilah’s kitchen, Clove straightened, her back sore. Cooking at Delilah’s was nice, especially because Delilah was so kind. So was Jerry, Delilah’s trucker boyfriend. Delilah hadn’t really needed another employee, but the fact that Clove was only in town for a short while, until her visa ran out, was a plus.

  Clove didn’t really need a job, but she wanted to keep busy and make friends. All the ladies at the Lonely Hearts Salon were very eager to make her feel at home. In fact, she liked it here much better than at Marvella’s, as Archer had said she would.

  Marvella had been nice to her, but Clove had begun to feel uneasy about the male clientele who came to the salon.

  “Triplets,” the young, pretty doctor had told her at the last appointment. “Congratulations. You hit the jackpot! The first triplets ever to be born in Lonely Hearts Station, I do believe.”

  Clove had staggered out of the doctor’s office, and she was still reeling. Triplets! She might have known that Archer Jefferson was capable of not only impregnating a woman, but doing it in an embarrassingly huge way!

  She’d moved out of Marvella’s the second she got home from the doctor’s office, telling Marvella she felt she’d overstayed her welcome. The truth was, if Archer had felt strongly about Clove not staying at Marvella’s when he barely knew her, she knew he’d really freak if he ever accidentally found out his progeny was gestating there.

  “I’ve really done it now,” Clove told Delilah, who was putting some plastic wrap over peanut-butter cookies Clove had baked.

  “Don’t worry,” Delilah told her. “You’re among friends here.”

  She was, but for the first time in her life, she was frightened.

  “Have you thought of telling the father?” Delilah asked.

  Archer had said, on many occasions, he didn’t want children. “He wouldn’t
be happy. I’m skipping that conversation for now.”

  Besides which, she was already gaining weight. Her face was puffy and her breasts had swelled. If he’d thought her plain and unsophisticated before, now she was downright, well, more plain.

  “The thing is,” she told Delilah, “triplets are intimidating.”

  “You’d better believe it,” Delilah said. “Pregnancy can be intimidating. You’re doing it times three.” She looked at her kindly. “If you ever want to talk about the father, you can trust me to be silent.”

  Clove lowered her eyes. “I’m afraid you’d be surprised. It’s not anything I can share. But thank you.”

  Delilah nodded. “I’m going to my room now.” She patted her hand. “Have a cookie and a cup of hot blackberry tea. Go to bed soon, too.”

  Clove smiled at the older woman. “Thank you so much. For everything.”

  Delilah smiled and left the room. Clove sat at the table, with only the lamp lit, rubbing her stomach absently. She wore dresses now, with expanding waistlines. Normally, a pregnancy wouldn’t show at this juncture, but her three babies seemed to be thriving.

  If they were destined to be Archer’s size, she was in for a rocky road. She felt as if she was in the middle of going down a slide, and couldn’t stop, no matter how much she wanted to. There was no body double who could perform this stunt for her.

  Sighing, she pushed her oversize glasses up on her nose.

  “Hey,” a masculine voice said suddenly, making her gasp with fright. “What are you doing here, Clover?”

  She stood, her heart pounding, her gaze drinking in Archer as he walked into the kitchen. She’d managed to avoid him while staying at Marvella’s. She should have known she couldn’t hide from him now that she was at the Lonely Hearts Salon. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for cookies and milk. Came in the back way, as I always do, and a pit stop in the kitchen before bed is a necessity.” He glanced at the cookies on the tray in front of her, then his gaze caught on her stomach. She watched with some horror as his attention traveled to her swelled breasts, then back to her stomach.