When Fall Fades (The Girl Next Door Series Book 1)

by Simpson, Amy Leigh

  He collapsed his tortured head back to the pillow and tried to think about baseball. “Good night, Sadie.”

  Chapter 25

  Sadie Carson

  “I wish you could come keep me company at the gate.”

  “I know. I hate this part.” Sadie bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

  Ryan blew out a breath, skimmed his gaze over the swelling crowd. “Me, too. I still have some time before my plane leaves, but the security check point is really backed up and—”

  “You should go.” She fought them back, but stubborn tears surfaced anyway. “Seriously, I’ll be fine.”

  Setting his duffle bag on the floor, he gathered her into a hug. She held on tight—felt her heartbeat sync with his, felt his hard chest absorb her trembling.

  “Please don’t cry, Sadie. I’ll be home before you know it.” He pulled back and smiled that same boyish grin she’d always loved. “And my first night back, what did we promise?”

  “Imo’s Pizza and The Princess Bride, it’s a date.” Sadie dabbed her face, cheering up only slightly.

  “And hey, the bonus is the Camaro’s yours till I get back. She’s a bit feisty—like my other best girl—so take it easy on the old gal.” He tried to lighten the mood, but his smile slipped just enough to betray him. He looked away from her pleading stare.

  “Ryan, listen to me. You can still get out of this. Everything will go back to normal and—”

  “No, Sadie. This is the right thing to do.”

  “Then why do I have this terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.” She shook her head and struggled against a fresh batch of tears. “Don’t go, Ry. Please.”

  He tucked her into his arms one last time. She curled into the space shaped just for her and held on tight—praying the strength of her grip could keep him from leaving.

  “I have to. I promise I’ll write.”

  Releasing her, he turned to walk away. With each step that separated them, her heart throbbed harder with regret. It was now or never.

  “Ryan, wait!” When he turned back, Sadie closed the distance between them, threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her mouth against his—unleashing all the love in her heart.

  He was stunned, motionless for a delayed moment. Then, dropping his bags, his arms surrounded her, molding her against him as he returned her kiss just as desperately.

  Their friendship had never crossed the line into any sort of romance. If Sadie was really honest with herself, she’d known how Ryan felt about her all these years. She’d just been waiting to see if he’d ever take the chance. Would it be worth the risk?

  Trapped in the long awaited moment, twenty years in the making, they made up for lost time—bending and breaking every rule of friendship until Ryan didn’t have a minute to spare. They were both disoriented and uncertain about the huge boundary they had just crossed, so they hugged once more and Sadie stood her ground, wrestling with her fearful heart as Ryan walked away.

  He kept turning back, his piercing blue eyes reaching deep into her mind, engraving a new memory—transforming her childhood friend into a lifelong love.

  When he finally slipped out of sight, her heart collapsed, the ventricular walls imploding until the lifeless lump shattered at her feet.

  “Sadie … Sweetheart, shh … it’s just a dream.”

  The rumbling tenor called out through the dream. She forced open haunted eyes, fighting against the drowning tears to grasp the present. It was still dark, but she instantly felt his presence. “Archer?”

  He sat on the bed beside her, deep concern etched into his sleepy voice. “I’m right here.” The gentle rasp of his knuckles swept the tears from her temples. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

  Sadie nodded, swallowing the urge to surrender her secrets—to uncover wounds that might never turn to scars.

  The faint glow of the streetlight shone on his face in the darkness.

  She was feeling weak and wounded, and he was one hundred percent devastating. So she propped up and leaned into his powerful arms, needing more than anything to be held. He stroked her back with the faintest touch, and she snuggled against his chest, not recalling a time when she’d ever felt as safe. He amazed her by just letting her rest in the comfort of his arms without pulling away or pressing for answers, only dotting sweet, tender kisses into her hair. It felt … right.

  The dream had been real, even though she’d been sleeping. Why did it feel as if she’d awakened to a reality that would never be anything more than a dream?

  Amber streams of sunlight peeked through the curtains, the warm morning glow as decadent as cashmere. She hummed her pleasure, procrastinating her efforts to open her eyes and instead succumbed to the allure of the cozy warmth.

  When she finally roused she found herself nose-to-nose with one sleeping, unlawfully handsome FBI agent. Before she could freak out about why they were snuggling together in bed and what that might mean, she remembered her dream and Archer’s caring embrace. A smile of perfect contentment turned her lips, and she took the moment to rest in what had to be the best dream she’d ever had.

  Archer’s eyes slowly opened and found her gaze. A thin ribbon of sunlight ignited tiny flecks of gold in them—their tender appraisal making her long to stay right where she was, forever.

  Summoning the nerve to speak as they lay together proved quite difficult. She felt a twinge of embarrassment about her tears last night, but this pure rapture far outweighed her shame.

  At the moment she was a victim of the most desirable form of entrapment—tangled in Archer’s web and happy to be his prey. Their legs were entwined—one of hers wrapped boldly over his thigh, making her aware of their rather intimate, albeit fully clothed, contact. And oh my stars and stripes, he was awake. Good morning, Soldier. His arm was draped around her waist, his hand now teasing the skin on her low back with enough pressure to keep her close. “Mmm.” She practically purred, never wanting to leave this spot. “Good morning.”

  “It certainly is.” His deep, sleep-rasped voice scraped deliciously over her senses. That big hand shifted lower, cupped around her hip, long fingers tightening into her flesh. Instinctively, she shifted closer burrowing in to press her nose into his neck, into that bone-melting scent that was uniquely Archer.

  This was borrowed time. She knew that. But she’d take it. Stash the memories away for a rainy day when the cold, lonely reality returned. A dangerous game, but her reasoning had left the seventies time capsule the instant she’d awakened in his arms.

  She sought to get closer and he helped her cause, nuzzling in, breath stirring her hair, his leg sliding slowly between hers. The heat between the sheets spiked, their accountability slipping away with each touch.

  Breathing heavier, hands roaming recklessly, her lips ghosted over the stubbled edge of his jaw, just a whispered touch that shocked an achy groan from Archer’s throat. The sound somehow broke through the sensual haze, and he stilled. His grip tightened for a blink before he blew out a tortured breath and dragged his hands from beneath the covers. And then it was only a memory.

  Why had he pulled away? Trying not to feel rejected, she pushed up to a sitting position, squinting against the light as she pulled her hair down from the now lopsided topknot she’d slept in.

  Lord only knew what she looked like right now. Her eyes might be swollen and bloodshot from crying, and her unruly hair probably looked like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket.

  What’s a girl to do? She sneaked a peek back over her shoulder where Archer was still reclined, watching her.

  His lips released a lazy smile as he tucked an arm behind his head to the benefit of one bulging bicep muscle. “What time is it?”

  With those eyes and that smile, in bed next to her, she couldn’t muster more than a single distressed syllabl
e. He yawned, then rolled away and sat at the edge of the bed, checking his phone, casual as you please. As if that same dexterous hand hadn’t just been— “Eight thirty. That means we got about four hours of sleep, not too bad.”

  Well, shoot! She wanted to be miffed or even embarrassed, but he looked so stinking cute she couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his adorable bed head—matted strands curled and smushed in wildly opposing directions. And yet combined with the thickening scruff of an impressive day-old beard he was still one hundred percent rugged and effortlessly gorgeous. How was that fair?

  “And you got out of sleeping on that scuzzy little couch.”

  “Best morning ever.” The quick raise of his eyebrows, accompanied by a playful smile, might as well have melted the skin off her blistering cheeks.

  She turned away. Must get a grip. “Do I have time for a quick shower before we head back up to the hospital?” A cold one.

  “Yeah, I’ll hop in, too.”

  Spewing a burst of laughter wasn’t pretty or elegant, but it just happened. She would always be more tomboy than debutante. She crossed her arms, finally finding her sass.

  Color crept up Archer’s neck, and his eyes went wide. “I meant, after you’re done. You really need to change out of those pajamas as soon as possible, I can’t think straight.”

  Sadie shook her head, wondering why on earth she would be tempting to a man like Archer, and then closed herself behind the bathroom door. Where it was safe. But unfortunately not from the steamed up images of slick skin and rich soapy lather. Being a good girl was getting tougher every day.

  “And don’t even think about coming out here in a towel,” he called out. “Spider or no spider, I will not be responsible for my actions if you do.”

  Peeking out from behind the door, she wiggled her eyebrows and teased him right back. “Scandalous. And something tells me of the two your bite would be much more dangerous.” He lunged toward the door, and she clicked it shut with an absurd squeal, hearing his bark of laughter from the other side. Their playful banter was the most fun she’d had in as long as she could remember. But it wasn’t all banter. It was kind of scandalous. For her, at least. Also kind of romantic. The impromptu road trip. His valiant defeat of that tarantula-sized spider. The early morning hours locked in his arms. Her wanton response to those gentle touches. Oh, her mother would be mortified.

  However, the not-so-scandalous scandal of their slumber party had confirmed her fears. Archer wasn’t a bad guy. He hadn’t tried to seduce her in her weak moment—hadn’t even kissed her.

  She’d been clinging to the hope that she could just diagnose him a player and let that be her excuse to be done with him. Only, he wasn’t. He was warm and caring and pretty sensitive, despite the rough exterior. But while those things were nice—more than nice—they didn’t change the past, or the fact that he was an FBI agent. Which meant he was all wrong for her. She put on a good show, but she was still too fragile for a man like Archer Hayes.

  After a quick and painful power wash under the pelting pressure of the cramped shower, she slipped into her trusty cut-offs and a Flashdance-inspired, pale-blue, off-the-shoulder top. Wringing out another pint of water from her hair one final time, she exited the balmy stall. “Better?”

  Those honey browns sparked with mischief, and she felt the heat of their admiration clear down to her toes. “Not even a little.”

  In comfy clothes and without a speck of makeup, this tomboy—the girl her mother was desperate to mask with more overt glamour—had never felt more beautiful, or more perfectly at home in her skin.

  While he took his turn in the shower, Sadie added a quick stroke of mascara, tied her hair over one shoulder into a long, loose braid, and slipped into her Chucks.

  Archer’s phone sounded from the night stand. She glanced at the caller ID just before the phone stopped ringing.

  The water had shut off, so Sadie went and tapped on the door. “Archer, you just missed a call from your mom.”

  In a second Archer was out the door wearing only his blue jeans—like that was playing fair. She fought the urge to fan herself. The man was cut and chiseled like the master sculptor Himself had crafted Archer Hayes with the best of everything.

  “Ma, everything okay?”

  The pallor that washed over his face meant it wasn’t good news.

  “We’ll be right there.” Archer wilted to the bed, his eyes fastened on the retro sunset painting on the wall. Everything stopped. The world a motionless void of space surrounding this beautifully pained man.

  Knowing that look far too well, she fought back tears. She’d only just met Roy Hayes, so she shouldn’t be the one crying. But Archer continued to stare at the wall, or through the wall, unshed tears swimming in his eyes until his voice finally broke. “He’s gone.”

  Reining in the selfish urge to break down, she knelt at his feet, forcing him to meet her eyes. “What do you need?” She whispered, placing her hands on his knees.

  Archer shook his head, his voice so slight she barely heard it as a single tear blinked down his cheek. “I don’t know.”

  She felt the earth fall back into rotation. This was her place—her gift and her curse—helping people with their unfinished business. “Let me drive you to the hospital, so you can be with your family.”

  Maybe this had been the reason she’d met him. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be about her feelings or her second chance at all.

  She didn’t want to think it, but the idea twined around her heart and strangled her selfish hope. Man it hurt, pained her so deep she felt infested with a cancerous unrest. She didn’t have to be a doctor to save the afflicted. But it seemed she would be the only one left terminally chained to the past.

  Chapter 26

  Archer Hayes

  The ride back to St. Louis was quiet, mainly because Archer was lost in the only good memory he had of his father—the untimely death clenching the event as a solitary incident.

  Teetering between relief and regret, Archer’s heart seesawed in his chest. The peace he longed for—the very thing he’d seen on his father’s face—wouldn’t stick. At least not today. Yes, he was relieved Roy had turned his life around—relieved that the gaping wounds of his childhood might finally begin to scab over. He’d even start to feel grateful for the reconciliation, but then something bitter would worm in and tip the scales. He knew better, but his anger scrounged for a target and hurled at the most convenient scapegoat.

  Why now? Why did you have to take him now? Haven’t you taken enough from me?

  It was exactly why Archer fought for justice. The world didn’t play fair. Sometimes even God didn’t play fair. Innocents were trampled far too often and retribution was thin on the ground.

  Through the haze of red, he caught a glimpse of a sign for St. Louis County. They were almost home. The silence in the Jeep felt vacuous without his ruminating thoughts. He looked over at Sadie, grappling for something to say to cut the silence and her catatonic fixation with the road. But he had nothing.

  After they’d left the motel for the hospital, she seemed to sense the need for family time and made herself scarce. Being there must have been awkward for her, but when she was gone, even for a few minutes, he caught himself thinking about her, missing her. How stupid was that?

  His life’s work as a soldier and FBI agent made him a little too worldly wise. Not much surprised him anymore. Except Sadie—the only person he’d ever met who constantly kept him off-balance. Always one step ahead of him, knowing exactly what he needed from her at any given time. Laughter, affection, space, distraction.

  Oh, man was she a distraction.

  One that had him desiring a little less space than normal. The impossibly close quarters of their overnight retreat proved to be all the space he wanted. Closing his eyes, he could feel it all over again.
The sizzle of her warm breath against his skin as she slept, the soft curves of her body curled into his, trusting him to hold her in his arms through the night. It was perfectly innocent, and yet, it was the most intimate touch he’d ever felt. And this morning …

  He wanted to groan in frustration. He’d been mere seconds from taking it too far.

  No. The second he’d touched her warmth beneath the covers he’d crossed the line.

  Sadie. The simple truth that she was an amazing woman didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t the guy for her. The guy who could give her the life she deserved. The guy who could promise to be home for dinner every night. Who could dedicate his life to making her happy. A guy with the capacity to love her fully. To put her first. She deserved nothing less than all someone could give and that, sadly, would never be something he could offer.

  They had just merged onto Highway 40, heading toward his apartment just outside the city in the upper-class white-collar business district of Clayton, when he received a call that his car was ready. He asked Sadie to drop him at the office, and the car returned to silence. When they pulled up to the FBI building, he felt as if he was standing in front of a firing squad. What followed would forever haunt him as a severely bungled moment of shame.

  It all happened so fast, but he was pretty sure the replay in his mind went like this: He offered his hand for her to shake, gave it a reassuring squeeze—one that had to have confused her more than anything—and then he garbled out a hollow thank you like she’d just bought him a cup of coffee instead of leading him on a life-changing journey. It was more agonizing than the bullet that had once pulverized his leg and splintered his femur.