I shook my head slightly, tapping my pointer finger on my lips. I could probably teach you a thing or two.

Oh yeah? What? His eyes flared very slightly, but then he looked away.

I swallowed. "Um," I whispered, but then continued in sign so that he would have to look back at me. I used to be a really good cook. I wasn't sure why I said it. I didn't really have any intention of cooking for anyone, or teaching anyone to cook. But in that moment, it was the first thing that came to my mind, and I wanted to fill the strange awkwardness that had lapsed between us.

You want to teach me how to cook?

I nodded my head very slowly. I mean, if that's not one of the many things you've already mastered.

He smiled. I still wasn't used to getting them, and this one made my heart speed up just a little bit. They were like a rare gift that he gave out. I snatched it up and stored it somewhere inside of me.

I'd like that, he said after a minute.

I nodded, smiling, and he gifted me with another smile back.

We walked along the lake shore for another hour, finding rocks and skipping them in the water until I could get mine to skip three times.

When I got home later, I realized that I hadn't had such a good day for a really long time.

* * *

The next day, I packed up some sandwiches at the diner, drove home, showered and changed, put Phoebe in the bike basket, and rode out to Archer's again. Despite the fact that I was the one showing up at his house and initiating our time together, I felt like he was putting in effort as well, just by allowing me to visit him.

So, Archer, I said, If your uncle didn't know sign language, how did you speak to him?

We were on his lawn, Kitty and the pups lying on a blanket with us, the puppy's fat little bodies waddling around, getting lost in their blindness before their mama nuzzled them back to her.

Phoebe was lying nearby too. She was mildly curious about the puppies, but didn't pay them much attention.

Archer looked up at me from where he was lying, his head propped up on his hand. He sat up slowly so that he could use his hands.

I didn't do much speaking. He shrugged. I wrote it down if it was important. Otherwise, I just listened.

I regarded him silently for a minute, wishing I could see his expression better–but it was hidden under all the un-groomed hair. How did you learn sign language? I finally asked quietly.

I taught myself.

I tilted my head, taking a bite of the pastrami sandwich in my hand. Archer had polished his sandwich off in about thirty seconds flat, eating most of it, but sharing pieces of pastrami with Kitty. I put the sandwich down. How? From a book?

He nodded. Yeah.

Do you have a computer?

He looked up at me, frowning slightly. No.

Do you have electricity?

He looked at me with amusement. Yes, I have electricity, Bree. Doesn't everyone?

I chose not to enlighten him to the fact that he kind of came off as someone who didn't necessarily have any modern conveniences. I tilted my head. Do you have a television? I asked after a minute.

He shook his head. No, I have books.

I nodded, considering the man in front of me. And all these projects that you do–stonework, gardening–you just teach them to yourself?

He shrugged. Anyone can learn to do anything if they have the time. I have the time.

I nodded, picking a piece of meat out of the side of my sandwich and chewing it for a second before asking, How did you get all the stones for the driveway and the patio?

Some I collected around the lake, some I bought in town at the garden shop.

And how did you get them back here?

I carried them, he said, looking at me like it was a crazy question.

So you don't drive? I asked. You walk everywhere?

Yes, he answered, shrugging.

Okay, enough with the twenty questions, he said. What about you? What are you doing in Pelion?

I studied him for a second before answering, his golden brown eyes trained on me, waiting for what I was going to say. I'm sort of on a road trip–I started, but then I stopped. No, you know what? I ran away, I said. My dad… passed away and… some other stuff happened that I had a hard time handling, and I freaked out and I ran away. I sighed. That's the truth of it. I'm not sure why I just told you that, but that's the truth of it.

He studied me for a little longer than I was comfortable with, feeling exposed, so I looked away. When I saw his hands move in my peripheral vision, I looked back at him. Is it working? He asked.

"Is what working?" I whispered.

Running away, he said. Is it helping?

I stared at him. Mostly, no, I finally answered.

He nodded, staring at me thoughtfully before looking away.

I was glad he didn't try to come up with something encouraging to say. Sometimes an understanding silence was better than a bunch of meaningless words.

I looked around the immaculate yard, to the small house, compact but well kept. I wanted to ask him how he had the money to live out here, but I didn't think that was polite. He probably lived off of some insurance policy his uncle had left him… or maybe his parents. God, he had had so many losses.

So Archer, I finally said, moving the conversation in another direction, that cooking lesson I mentioned… Are you free this Saturday? Your place. Five o'clock? I raised an eyebrow.

He smiled slightly. I don't know. I'll have to check with my social secretary.

I snorted. You being funny?

He raised an eyebrow.

Better, I said.

He smiled bigger. Thank you, I've been working on it.

I laughed. His eyes twinkled and moved to my mouth. Those butterflies took flight again and we both looked away.

After a little bit, I gathered up my stuff and my little dog, said goodbye to Archer, and started walking up the driveway.

When I got to the gate, I paused, looking back at the small house behind me. It suddenly occurred to me that Archer Hale had taught himself an entire language, but hadn't had a single person to talk to.

Until me.

* * *

The next day, as I was carrying a reuben with a side of fries to Cal Tremblay and a BLT with a side of potato salad to Stuart Purcell at table three, the bell rung over the door and I looked up to see Travis walking in wearing his uniform. He smiled big at me and gestured to the counter, asking if I was working it. I smiled and nodded, saying quietly, "Be right there."

I delivered the food in my hands, refilled their waters and then walked back behind the counter where Travis was now sitting.

"Hey," I greeted him, smiling. "How are you?" I held up the coffee pot and raised my brows questioningly.

"Please," he said to the coffee and I started pouring. "I've been trying to call you," he said. "Are you avoiding me?"

"Avoiding–oh crap! I ran out of minutes. Damn." I put my palm to my forehead. "Sorry, I have one of those pay-as-you-go phones, and I rarely use it."

He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't there any family back home that you keep in touch with?"

I shook my head. "A few friends, but my dad passed away six months ago and… no, there's really not."

"Jesus, I'm sorry, Bree," he said, concern filling his expression.

I waved it away. I refused to get emotional at work. "It's okay. I'm okay." I was mostly okay, sometimes okay. Better these days.

He studied me for a second. "Well, the reason I was calling you was to see if you'd like to do that dinner we talked about?"

I leaned my hip against the counter and smiled at him. "So you tracked me down when I didn't answer my phone?"

He grinned. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call it a high level, spy-caliber track down operation."

I laughed, but his wording reminded me of Archer and for some strange reason, something like guilt fluttered in my gut. What was that about? I had no idea. Our friendship was blossoming, but he was still closed off in many respects. I understood it I guessed, and it made me so mad that the whole dang town ignored him, when in fact, he was this incredibly smart, gentle man who as far as I could tell, had never done anything wrong to anyone. It wasn't fair.

"Hello, earth to Bree," Travis said, snapping me out of my reverie. I had been staring out the window.

I shook my head slightly. "I'm sorry, Travis. I just got caught up in my own thoughts there for a minute. My brain can seriously be a black hole sometimes." I laughed softly, embarrassed. "Anyway, uh, sure I'll go to dinner with you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, try not to sound too excited about it."

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, sorry, I just… just dinner, right?"

He grinned. "I mean, maybe an appetizer… maybe even some dessert…"

I laughed. "Okay."

"Friday night?"

"Yes, okay." I held my finger up to a couple that had just sat down in my section and they smiled. "I gotta get back to work, but see you Friday?" I scribbled my address down on a piece of paper from my order pad and handed it to him, smiling.

"Yeah, how about I pick you up at seven?"

"Perfect." I smiled again. "See you then." As I walked around the counter to the table, I could see him leaning back on his stool to check out my ass as I walked away.

CHAPTER 12

Bree

I worked early on Friday and drove home to get ready for my date with Travis.

I took a long, hot shower and took extra time with my hair and makeup, trying to work up some excitement at just being a girl who was about to be picked up for a date.

What if he kissed me? Nervous flutters started in my belly. Strangely, again, Archer came to my mind and so did a vague sense of guilt. That was silly though–Archer was only my friend. I thought maybe there was a little something between us though, only what it was, I had no real clue. It was confusing and strange, unknown territory. He had a nice face, from what I could see of it anyway, but was I attracted to him? I furrowed my brow at myself in the mirror, pausing in my eyeliner application. He definitely had a nice body–no scratch that, an amazing body, totally drool-worthy–and I admired it constantly, but attracted? How could you be attracted to someone who was so different from anyone you'd ever been attracted to before? Still, I couldn't deny his charm. When I thought of him, pictured his shy smile and the way his eyes constantly took in every little thing about me, my tummy fluttered. Yes, there was something there–what, I couldn't be completely sure.

Travis, on the other hand, was seemingly easy to be attracted to. He had it all–smooth moves and the kind of good looks that any girl in her right mind would find appealing. Apparently, I wasn't exactly in my right mind. But maybe giving myself a little push was a good thing, a necessary thing. It'd been over six months now…

I finished up my makeup. I didn't need to over complicate this. It was just a date. With a cute guy, a nice guy.

And I didn't need to be so nervous. I wasn't inexperienced–and I wasn't a virgin. I had had three semi-serious boyfriends in college, and I had even thought I might be in love with one of them. It had turned out that he was in love with every girl on my dorm floor–or at least in love with getting into their pants behind my back, and that had ended badly. But the point was, I had no need to be nervous of Travis Hale. This was just a date, and only a first date at that. And if I didn't want to see him again, I wouldn't. Simple.

Travis knocked on my door at seven o'clock sharp, gorgeous in a pair of dress pants and a button up shirt. I had chosen a black, wrap dress that hugged the few curves that I had and my silver heels. I had left my hair down and curled it very loosely with a curling iron. He looked me over appreciatively and handed me the bouquet of red roses he had in his hand, already in a glass vase.

"You look gorgeous, Bree."