The tea party was a smashing success. As Archer carried another loaded tray outside, he paused on the step to look at the scene before him. Sixteen happy faces, laughing, eating, drinking, bathed in the pink and orange sky and scent of primroses. Eileen threw back her head, giggling at something Dominik said, then she leaned over to murmur a few words to Betty. Even Beau and Ben were smiling broadly while Caleb chatted with Grace and Seta.

Amid the hum, Mateo looked up at Archer and smiled.

Archer smiled back, his heart thudding.

Just friends, he told himself. Just friends.

Fuck.

22 All I Ask of You

“Archer!” Betty announced when he took his seat next to her again. “Eileen has a karaoke machine!”

“Okay?” Archer chuckled, helping himself to yet another scone. “And we’re excited about this?”

“I love karaoke!” Betty exclaimed. “And it happens to be my birthday on Wednesday.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Eileen said we could borrow it for a little party. And,” she turned to Eileen and gripped her arm, “you have to come! Wednesday night, after the second show. Please?”

“Of course, if you want an old woman—”

“Yes, I do! Definitely.”

“Very well.” Eileen’s face shone. “I’ll be there.”

Later, when they were back in Eileen’s tiny kitchen cleaning up, Archer mentioned Betty’s birthday to Mateo. “I think I’m going to head into town on Wednesday to get some stuff for a party. Do you want to come?” The invitation flowed easily from his lips, but sent his pulse fluttering.

“Sure,” Mateo said casually, rinsing off a platter. “Sounds fun.”

So that was how the two of them came to be hopping onto the Shady Queens shuttle together Wednesday morning. Just friends, Archer said to himself as he climbed on behind Mateo, taking in the curve of his butt and sculpted calves. Not a date. But God, he’s hot.

They waved to Mrs. C, who was driving, and sat together in the first row. When a large, sunburned man clambered on after them to grab the last seat, Archer had to scoot over to the middle so he was right up against Mateo’s bare arm, smelling his freshly applied aftershave. Then they were on their way, bouncing down the gravel drive.

“Do you like karaoke?” Archer asked, ignoring the jolts of electricity each time their legs bumped together. “Betty’s so excited for it.”

Mateo gave him a wry look. “I don’t really do karaoke.”

“Why not? You’re an amazing singer.” He felt like an idiot as soon as he said it. The man fucking headlined two Broadway shows. He didn’t need some schmo from Ohio telling him that.