He didn’t know if she was angry on behalf of the sisterhood that a woman would do the dirty on a guy and make them all look bad.
Or if she was pissed that Carolyn did that to Jagger.
He was guessing it was part the first.
But mostly it was the last.
He should have known with the skirt, the blouse, the fuck-me green pumps and showing a lot of leg, toned arms, hints of cleavage and lush, chic, assured style and beauty.
Though apparently, he didn’t know her well enough.
But seeing her in action, he knew now that was totally OTT and in your face when everyone else there was in jeans, except Carolyn, who had on a tight-fitting tank dress that showed serious cleavage, and not to be a dick or anything, but it also showed no imagination.
Carolyn was dressed like she thought a biker would want her to dress.
Archie was dressed like Archie liked to dress, even if she had a point to make.
Carolyn was miserable.
Archie was calm and comfortable and deep in vengeance mode.
That night, Jagger had never been touched so much in such a casual, affectionate way that it came off just like that, instead of over-demonstrative or clingy.
She didn’t stick her tongue in his ear or lay her hand on his leg near his crotch as an overt way to stake her claim.
She touched the pulse on his wrist.
She’d smile in his eyes and squeeze his knee.
She’d stand beside him while she was laughing and bump hips.
She’d fiddle with his fingers, pressing her thumb into the center of his palm, totally engrossed in this for about long moments, like his hand was the most fascinating thing in the world and she couldn’t help getting lost in it, before she shook herself out of it and looked around apologetically.
She hit it off with Georgie right away, partly because Georgie had been to her shop and loved it, partly because Georgie was a journalist and Archie thought that was cool.
But mostly because Georgie and Archie were sisters of the same ilk.
They knew what they were about and were good in their own skin.
It was clear Dutch wanted to play the “You’ve Gotta Win Me Over” Big Brother, but in the face of Archie, not to mention Georgie bonding with her, that lasted fifteen minutes.
She was just interesting and interested. Complimentary without being effusive. Curious without prying.
But when they sat down to dinner, and she scooted her chair so close to Jagger’s, their thighs were pressed together, and for part of the meal, simply for comfort, he had to drape his arm around her shoulders, he knew shit was real with her rubbing it in with Carolyn.
Hell, when he put his arm around her, she just tucked her body to him and ate and sipped wine and chatted like they were physically attached since birth and she was good with that.
Only a seriously cool chick could get away with that, making it seem as cool as she was.
And that was the way being with Archie was.
She was into him, she’d not made that a mystery.
Though, it was just her.
And it was her way of stating plainly to Carolyn that he’d scraped off the shit and come up smelling like roses.
Carolyn was helping Georgie and Dutch clear after their main, and they assured Archie they didn’t need any more help after she’d offered, and that was when he took his shot.
“Babe,” he called low.
She was in the tucked-close position.
This meant when she turned, she had her shoulder under his arm, her hand was on his thigh, and her face was close to his.
“You can cool it,” he said quietly.
“Mm?” She pretended not to know what he was talking about.
“All you had to do was walk in, and you had her,” he informed her.
“Had her?”
“Babe,” he said on a chuckle.
His chuckle didn’t last long.
Because her expression didn’t change.
He stared at her.
Christ.
This wasn’t about Carolyn.
She was being that way because she was that way.
And she was being that way with him because that was who he was to her.
Christ.
While he had these thoughts, she was examining his face.
So before he could react to what he’d just learned, she spoke.
“It goes without saying, no one fucks with you, Jagger, and no one fucks you over. And should it become necessary I communicate that information, I won’t hesitate to do it. But I wasn’t here then. That was the message you sent and you’re still sending it. That’s not on me to communicate.”
Even though she seemed pretty laidback about that, there was an edge there he felt he needed to address.
“You should know, I’m not hurting money-wise, I never have. And I wasn’t in deep with her emotionally. It wasn’t cool what she did, but it also wasn’t that big of a deal.”
She nodded. “I hear you. But letting you in on the girl side of things… that dress is for you, Jagger. You said you’re not going back there. I believe that. But you and I are exploring things, so straight up, a bitch needs to know where shit stands.”
And there it was.
“Right then, so you know, when I thought you were Vengeance Archie, it was hot.”
She smiled.
“Staking Her Claim Archie might be hotter,” he continued. “I haven’t decided. I’ll be sure to let you know when I do.”
She started laughing.
He cupped her jaw and bent his face to hers.
“Now that you made your point, and since I already made my point, I think we both need to cut her some slack. She’s miserable.”
“I noticed that, baby,” she murmured. “But honest to God, I don’t know how to make it better. It is what it is. Her bed, she’s lying in it. But I’ll try to come up with something.”
Her eyes that close, her mouth that close…
Shit.
“Christ,” he grunted. “I wanna make out with you, like, all the time.”
“That isn’t gonna help her be less miserable,” she pointed out.
“No,” he was grunting again.
“We gotta be good, boyfriend.”
He just shook his head, grinning, but said, “Yeah.”
She shifted away, but not too far away, and Dutch was at the table, grabbing the salad bowl.
“You sure I can’t help?” Archie asked Dutch.
“There can be too many cooks in the kitchen, not too many to clean up, though,” Dutch replied. But on a glance to the sisters and back to the table, he said, “Maybe give them some time, yeah?”
“For sure,” Archie replied.
Dutch looked to Jag, to Archie, gave her a tight smile, then moved to the kitchen.
She turned to Jag. “Something there I’m missing?”
“He’s pissed he didn’t know about you.”
“Until today, there wasn’t a lot to know.”
“Yeah, there was.”
She conceded that point with a dip of her chin and then said, “Fair warning, the family stuff is probably gonna be stepped up a dozen notches. We get too deep before I take you to see him, Dad’s gonna be pissed. He’s mentioned you, like, five hundred times.”
Say what?
“He has?”
She reached for her wine, nodding, took a sip, then slid her eyes to him and said, “Yep.”
“How does he know who I am?”