on that had taken so much time.
Archer shot me another glance, this time pensive. "He was working on security, like he said." There was a cagey, secretive edge to his tone, though.
Dread pooled in my belly. "Elaborate on that."
"Ask him. I thought you guys were all anti-secrets these days, anyway. I'm sure he'll tell you if you just ask." There was a note of bitterness or contempt in his tone that made my temper flare.
Come to think of it, that raised another question I had. "Tell me something, husband dearest," I drawled, propping my elbow on the door and leaning my head on my palm. "If you went to all these difficult, dangerous, and expensive lengths to keep me safe..."
He grunted a sound of annoyance. "I did," he snapped. "I thought we'd cleared that up already."
I gave a small shrug, like I didn't totally buy his reasons. I mean, yes, I did. But I also knew it would drive him nuts if he thought I was still doubting him.
"Well, okay, for argument’s sake, you did do it all for my benefit—"
"It was," he cut me off, shooting a scowl at me. Whatever he saw on my face must have clued him into the fact that I was just antagonizing him, though, because the tension visibly dropped from his shoulders as his gaze returned to the road.
"Uh-huh," I continued, enjoying how easy he was to provoke when he was hungover. It made me think I wanted to get him drunk more often. Did that make me a bad person? I mean, at least I wasn't thinking about stabbing him in the eye with a fork, so we'd made some definite progress in the past twenty-four hours.
"So, if you went to all these lengths to help me... and if what you told me last night was the truth and not some fucked up D'Ath manipulation technique"—Yeah, I was pushing all his buttons now if the rumble of a growl in his throat was any indication—"then I have one very important question."
I paused for dramatic effect—and also to work up the nerve to ask what was on my mind. But fuck it. I'd recently killed a man; I could suck up enough courage to ask a pretty boy a personal question.
"Spit it out, Madison Kate," Archer ordered, clearly dreading whatever I might be about to ask. His knuckles paled on the steering wheel as he gripped it tighter, and I smiled.
"If you care so much, why did you stand back and let both your best friends fuck me? You don't strike me as the kind of guy who likes to share his possessions, and yet..." I waved a hand, and he knew what I meant.
He drew a deep breath, his chest swelling as he seemed to debate his response to my question. I had to hand it to him; I’d expected that to be a sore spot, a reflexive snap back. But instead, he took his time to consider his answer.
"Because," he finally said, his voice calm but threaded with tension, "Kody and Steele mean more to me than any family could. I owe them everything, and I'd never stand in the way of something they wanted. Even if..."
"Even if what they want is your wife, who doesn't know she's your wife? The same girl you're secretly in love with, but can't find the balls to make a move for yourself? That's some real tight fucking friendship, Sunshine." My tone was scathing and hurt, and I had no idea why. I felt very strongly for both Kody and Steele, and I was glad Archer hadn't stood in the way of them making a move. So why the fuck was I suddenly feeling stabby?
Archer shot me a perplexed look. "I never said I was in love with you, Princess." He all but spat the words like they tasted bad, and it only fanned the flames of my irrational anger.
"Oh no? I seem to remember you telling me that you didn't hate me, but you hated yourself for loving me. Your words, not mine." I folded my arms under my breasts, giving him an indignant glare, despite the fact that his eyes were still on the road.
He scoffed. He legitimately scoffed. "You must have been dreaming, Princess. I never said that. But it's cute to know that's what you were hoping to hear from me. Sorry to disappoint."
Stunned outrage rippled through me. It was my own fucking fault for bringing up our conversation from the