I follow him outside wordlessly, the front of the restaurant still crowded with people waiting for a table. We end up around the side of the building, the cool night air washing over me as a breeze blows over us, relieving my overheated body and brain.
“What the hell is going on in there?” Archer asks.
Shrugging, I glance around, making sure no one is paying attention to us. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m confused. You seem way into Marina, and I thought you weren’t interested in her. Marina and Ivy seem to like each other. Which is great, I’m glad to see the two of them getting along so well so quick, but I thought . . . I thought this dinner was all about Marina wanting to talk to me about some proposition she has,” Archer says, running a hand through his hair.
“I think she’s nervous. That’s why she hasn’t mentioned anything to you yet,” I suggest. Hell, I’d told her not to say anything, and here’s Archer asking why she’s not. I’m just making up excuses, and it’s not like we can call her out on it at the table. That would just be flat-out rude.
Since when do you care if you’re rude to Marina or not?
It irritates that she hasn’t even told me what she wants to talk to Archer about. I’m just as much in the dark as he is. Doesn’t she trust me enough with the information?
Of course not, asshole. Remember? She doesn’t even know you.
“Well. She’s hardly said one word to me, but that’s fine. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it in front of your sister, which I totally get.” Archer pauses, studying me. “And then there’s you.”
“What about me?” I’m immediately defensive.
“If this is, and I quote, ‘a business proposition,’ and you’re just using her, and I quote again, ‘to get what you want,’ then you’re doing a damn good job of being the attentive, googly-eyed date.”
“‘Googly-eyed?’ Nice description,” I mutter. We’re obvious. I didn’t think it would matter in front of Archer and Ivy, but what the hell was I thinking? It didn’t help that we just had sex before we stumbled into the restaurant. I still had a postcoital glow going on, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s true! Every time you look at her, you’re like a lovesick puppy. I think you like her,” Archer says.
“I do not,” I answer way too quickly. Misery courses through me. Do I like her? I shouldn’t like her.
You fucking like her, moron.
“I’m attracted to her,” I finally say. “How could I not be? She’s beautiful.”
Archer shakes his head. “Then you better be up-front with her about this real estate deal you want to make with her dad.”
“No way. She’ll hate me for it.” She called me a scum-sucking shark or whatever the first time we met, when she discovered who I am. She finds out I want to sweep in on the property the Molinas hold on St. Helena’s Main Street—including the very bakery she’s running—she’ll hate me for life.
Shit. She probably already suspects this. She has to. Marina’s no dummy. She’s smart and beautiful and—
“She’ll hate you more if you keep the truth from her.”
I absorb Archer’s words, remaining quiet. Since when did he get so good at doling out advice? That’s always been my thing. Now I’m the one making idiot moves, and he’s the stable, secure one full of logic.
“You could always lease the property back to her,” he suggests when I don’t say anything. “Give her a deal and let her run the bakery that seems to mean so much to her.”
“How do you know what it means to her?” I ask incredulously.
“Weren’t you listening to what she said? She was talking about running the bakery, her aunt, and the amazing cakes she makes. I’ve tasted them, so has Ivy. She was totally engrossed in the conversation, offering Marina all sorts of marketing ideas to try.” Archer shakes his head. “Are you oblivious or what?”
I look at Marina and all I can think about is the next time I can get her naked. I guess . . . I was tuning her out like a self-absorbed asshole.
“I’m going back in there and asking her what she wants to talk about. I’m not in the mood for a bunch of pussyfooting anymore. I’m too damn curious,” Archer finally says, starting to head back to the front of the building.
I walk with him, the both of us striding side by side toward the restaurant entrance. “Come on. Let her segue into it on her own. I think she just needs to build up her courage.”
“She’s having fun with Ivy, and she’s probably had a little bit too much to drink. I think it’s time for Marina to grow a pair and tell me what’s up.” Archer throws open the door, and I follow him in, wondering at his change of mood.
He’s never been the most patient person. While I have no problem lying in wait, calculating my every move. Whether in business or personal matters, Archer gets too antsy.
“Give her time, damn it,” I mutter, earning a hard glare from Archer.
“Why are you so protective of her, huh? You’ve only known her a few days. What gives?”
I care for her. It’s the stupidest thing ever, but I do. I like her. A lot. The more I think about Archer’s leasing suggestion, the more I believe it could be the solution to the problem hovering over us. “I—”
“You like her,” Archer says again, not sounding surprised. “A lot. I get it, man. Sometimes when it happens, it takes a while like it did for Ivy and me. Other times, it happens so fast you just know.”
“I just know what?”
“You know you’re in love with her.”
I scoff. “I am not in love with her,” I say emphatically. “I’ve known her a week.”
“You have feelings for her, then.” Archer grimaces. “Christ, listen to me. I’ve turned into Oprah.”
“I blame Ivy,” I say with a grin, though deep inside my stomach is knotted, my head spinning. Fine. I like Marina. A lot. I’m not in love with her. Not . . .
Yet?
I banish the thought.
“Be honest with her.” Archer stabs his finger into my chest, making me wince. “If I can give you any advice, it’s to tell her the truth. Be up-front. Let her know about the real estate deal. Tell her you want her help in getting to talk to her father.”
“I sort of already did,” I say, rubbing at my chest where he poked me. Damn, that hurt.
He’s right though. I don’t have to take the bakery away from her. I don’t want to. If it means that much to her, I’m sure we could work something out. I could lease the building back to her and her aunt and they could keep Autumn Harvest open. Keep the business in the family.
That’s a freaking great idea.
“Great. Good. You’re on the right path.” Archer exhales loudly. “It’s just . . . I like seeing the two of you together. Don’t make fun of my ass, but you seem really happy with her. You’re always so wrapped up in your work. It’s nice to see you let loose and have fun.”
I run my hand across the back of my neck, contemplating his words. “You’re not saying this because of that stupid bet we made, are you?”
He rolls his eyes. “I already lost that fucker and you know it. Why would I want to sabotage your ass? I have no stake in it. This is between you and Matt.”
“I haven’t seen him in—forever.” Matt’s busy getting his new winery ready for its grand opening.
“Ivy’s with him a lot lately since she’s been working on the interiors. Ask her how he’s doing.” Archer smiles.
We head back to the private dining room. “What’s up with the shit-eating grin?”
Archer shrugs. “Ivy thinks Matt’s assistant has a major crush on him. He ignores her. I think it makes her want him more.”
“Who the hell would have a crush on Matt DeLuca?” I ask indignantly. Only the majority of the female population in California, let alone the entire United States. Back in the day, he’d been the star pitcher for the San Francisco Giants. Until a major knee injury put him into early retirement. Thank Christ for lucrative investments and endorsements. The guy sits on pile of gold bricks, he’s so damn rich.