Accidentally on Purpose Read online

  Was she? She decided to stop talking before she got herself in trouble.

  At her silence, he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he continued to drive through the city, still easily navigating the anything but easy to navigate streets of downtown San Francisco.

  “Since we’re in a momentary truce,” he said, breaking their silence. “You’re a knockout tonight.”

  She looked at him but he was concentrating on the road. “Are you trying to soften me up?” she asked.

  “Definitely,” he said. “But it’s also true.”

  She was wearing one of her favorite dresses, now with his suit jacket around her shoulders. This left him in a button-down that along with his trousers fit him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and powerful long legs. His sleeves were rolled up. Tie loose. His hair was slightly mussed and he could clearly care less, which of course only made him all the more drop-dead sexy.

  He made it hard for a girl to not fall head over heels. “You’re not looking too bad yourself,” she grudgingly admitted, telling herself not to read into his statement. Not that her body got the memo because it was humming with hyperawareness.

  They didn’t speak again. The only reason she even knew where they were going was because she’d read the invitation that day in his office. And sure enough, ten minutes later they were in the financial district, parking in the underground parking lot of a beautiful brick and glass building.

  “The restaurant that’s hosting the party is up on the top floor,” he said as he opened his door. He turned back to her, maybe to ask her to stay while he checked to see if they were even welcome, but she slipped out of the truck too quickly for that. “Guarding your body,” she reminded him.

  “Within reason,” he said, mocking her, but then he surprised her by taking her hand.

  Which she allowed only because of their truce. They took the elevator up with another couple who were lip locked for the entire ride. And not just lip locked but hand and leg locked too, really going to town, running their hands over each other like they were searching for ticks. They got off on the floor before the restaurant and she let out the laugh she’d been barely holding on to and met Archer’s gaze. His mouth was curved into a smile but his eyes were dark and heated. She felt an answering heat in the pit of her belly.

  And south.

  Just before the door closed, the couple stumbled back into the elevator, looking sheepish.

  “Sorry,” the woman said. “We missed our floor.”

  Elle bit her lower lip rather than laugh again. She could appreciate that they’d gotten lost in their lust. Appreciate it and maybe even envy it a little. Because that had never happened to her. She couldn’t imagine getting so lost in someone as to lose track of her surroundings. She was just too aware of herself and others.

  Still, she was overheated when the elevator doors opened and Archer put his big warm hand low on her back to guide her off. He glanced at her, letting his gaze linger. “You’re all flushed.” He paused. “Envious?”

  “No.” She added a scoff. “He probably leaves the lid up and snores.”

  He looked like maybe he wanted to say something to that but the hostess asked him how she could help him.

  “I’m here for the Hunt retirement party,” he said.

  She thumbed through her iPad. “I’m sorry but that was cancelled.”

  Archer was hard to rattle but he looked stunned. “Do you know why?”

  “Uh . . .” The hostess swiped around on her screen for another moment. “There’s only one note here—the retiree decided against a big shindig and cancelled. He had a much smaller dinner party a week ago instead.”

  Archer, still as stone, didn’t answer. Elle slipped her hand in his. “Thank you,” she said to the hostess and she tugged Archer aside so the woman could help the next people in line.

  “I’m sorry,” Elle murmured. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No. I think he cancelled because he didn’t have any family who RSVP’d.” He paused. “Because I’m his only family and I’m an asshole.”

  She shook her head. “No. Archer—”

  He made a rough sound and turned back to the elevator. This time there were no lovebirds and Archer didn’t speak. Neither did she. The energy was completely different. In the truck, he took out his phone and made a call. To his dad, she assumed, listening to the phone ringing.

  And ringing.

  At the beep, Archer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dad,” he said. “I’m sorry. I should have RSVP’d. Hell, I should’ve called, okay? But I’m calling now.” He hesitated and then ended the call and tossed the phone aside.

  He drove her back to the Pacific Pier Building in a heavy wind, a few drops of rain hitting the windshield. He parked on the street and got out to walk her to the pub but she stopped in the courtyard.

  “It’s not all your fault,” she said.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Communicating is a two-way street and—”

  “We’re not talking about this.”

  “But—”

  “Ever, Elle.”

  The storm broke over them with a boom of thunder, and rain began to fall in earnest as she stared at him. For once she didn’t think of her poor shoes. All she thought about was the pain in her chest. “So much for letting me be there for you,” she said. “And all that other stuff last night about no debt, no price between us.”

  He just looked at her, impervious to the rain. To her.

  “So to be clear, it’s only okay if I need you,” she said. “But when the shoe’s on the other foot, you’re not willing to let yourself need help from me, is that it?” She shook her head, all the bottled-up emotions popping free. “God forbid you be vulnerable in any way or show a weakness, right? You probably faked not being able to use those chopsticks with your left hand yesterday, just to throw me off.”

  “Elle,” he said, sounding to-the-bone weary. “Get out of the storm and go get warm—”

  “No.”

  When he sighed, actually sighed, she narrowed her eyes. “You know what, Archer? You go get warm, okay? Go straight to hell for all I care.”

  “I’m already there.”

  “And that’s my fault?” she asked incredulously, having to squint through the rain now.

  “Yes. Shit. No.” He shoved his hands into his hair, making it stand up on end. “I don’t know. You’ve got me all twisted in knots and all sorts of fucked up.” And then on that rare, shockingly revealing statement, he hauled her up against him, spun them into the alley, and kissed the ever loving daylights out of her.

  And him too, if his heavy breathing counted for anything.

  When they finally came up for air, they were both drenched to the core and she’d completely forgotten the fact that she’d decided to keep her mouth off him. The only thing that helped was that he’d forgotten himself too. He had his hands on her ass, holding her tight to him, nudging her hips up close and personal to what felt like a very impressive erection.

  And she wasn’t much better. She was climbing him like a tree and making needy little whimpers that she couldn’t stop to save her life. They weren’t even having sex, their clothes weren’t off, they were standing in a damn alley for God’s sake, but she’d swear they’d both just nearly come from only a kiss.

  “You’re killing me,” he said, his voice as rough as gravel.

  She felt like she was literally going to die if she didn’t get him inside her, but she managed to give him a cool look. “So walk away then, Archer. You’re good at that.”

  But he didn’t move. Instead, he looked down at himself. “I couldn’t walk to save my own life. Hell, in this condition, I couldn’t even get you upstairs to one of our offices.”

  “This isn’t a booty call, remember?”

  He tilted his head, clearly taking in her flushed face, her crazy breathing, and then there was the fact that her nipples were poking against the material of her wet clothes like two heat