I frown. “He did?”
“Of course he did. He had no faith in me. I was a world-class screwup, I’ll admit it. I didn’t want to work, not directly for him, at least. So he said since I thought I knew what the hell I was doing, he’d give me this.” Archer’s smile turned rueful. “I showed him, didn’t I?”
“How long ago was that?” I knew his relationship with his father wasn’t the best, but to send his son out to purposely fail with a bad location? Awful.
“Over three years ago. Construction took a solid ten months to a year and we opened when only a few buildings were completed, expanding as each one was finished. Hush made Bancroft a lot of money in the first six months it was open.” He studies the vineyards in the near distance, his expression serious, not the usual smiling, charming Archer.
My heart aches for him, no matter how much I tell it to stop.
I’m impressed with his success story. I remember how it was when we were younger. His dad constantly disappointed in him. His mother never around, or always drunk and crying over the way her husband treated her. No wonder Archer spent all of his time at our house when he and Gage became such good friends. My parents weren’t perfect, but at least they get along for the most part and they have a relatively normal relationship.
No drunken yelling or icy-cold neglect.
“Such a great story,” I say, wincing the moment the words fall from my lips. More like such a lame comment for a truly amazing accomplishment.
“Yeah, well, tell that to my father.” His voice is tight, as is his jaw.
I hate that he feels this way. He should be proud of what he’s done in such a short amount of time, versus fixated on his father’s shoddy treatment of him over the years.
“Is this hotel part of the Bancroft chain or is it separate?” I’m not quite sure why I’m asking him this, but I have to know.
“It’s all mine. He signed it over to me.” He turns to look at me. “I told you he thought I would fail. He had no problem giving it to me figuring I would lose my ass over it.”
The pain in his voice is undeniable. “You certainly proved him wrong,” I say softly.
“Sure as hell did.” His gaze meets mine, dark and mysterious, his mouth grim. My heart flutters and I step toward him. Somehow wanting to offer him comfort, solace, something. Anything. He’s hurting and it makes me hurt for him.
“What made you decide to create a resort like Hush in the first place?” I’m desperate to change the subject. The last thing he ever wants to talk about is his dad or his mom.
“I knew it would turn a profit.” He waves a hand. “You know how many people I’ve heard complain that their sex life was dead after being in a relationship for too long? That they didn’t spend enough time with their significant others and they were desperate to connect? I realized it was an untapped market so I created Hush and fed the need. The new location takes the concept a step further.”
“It’s all a business decision, then. Not because you wanted to help people.” Disappointment crashes through me, and I try to push it away. Of course. It’s always a business decision. My brother thinks the same way. So does my father.
I sorta hoped Archer was different. Clearly, he’s not.
“I’m not looking to help anyone. I’m no one’s savior.” His gaze meets mine and he tips his head toward me. “You of all people should know that.”
I most definitely know that. “I find it funny that the man who is the epitome of anti-commitment creates a safe haven for couples looking to spice up their sex life.” I shake my head. “You must see the irony.”
“Oh, I do. Trust me.” He smiles and the sight of that dimple I adore momentarily takes me aback.
“You should show Ivy some of the rooms,” Gage suggests as he approaches us, breaking the quiet spell that had settled over Archer and me. I step away from him, smiling faintly at my brother, though really I’m irritated. I should be glad he spoke up before I did something foolish. Like touch Archer. Give away that I might . . . feel something for him.
I definitely feel nothing for him beyond a fondness for a man I’ve known for what feels like forever.
Ha. And a yearning for his body.
“I’d love to see the rooms,” I say, trying to push the confusing thoughts from my brain.
“Yeah, Arch. Show her everything. Explain the concept behind the resort so she can get a better understanding.” Gage smirks.
The look that crosses Archer’s face is nothing short of uncomfortable. “Do you want to see them, Ivy?” he asks stiffly, his gaze flicking to Gage before it returns to me.
“Absolutely.” I’m surprised he asks. I wonder more at his discomfort. Is this entire scenario misleading? Is he hiding some sort of secret sex den in one of the buildings? Oh, good lord, I know Archer’s reputation precedes him, but he was pretty vanilla last night when we had sex. Nothing too outrageous.
But he was certainly the tastiest vanilla I’ve ever experienced.
We walk down a meandering gravel path, Archer leading us to a row of detached cottages that each individually house a room. They all have quaint front porches with a pair of large, comfortable-looking chairs on either side of the front entrance, and he approaches the largest one, me following right behind him and stopping while he opens the door.
Inhaling as discreetly as possible, I breathe in his scent, closing my eyes for the briefest moment. He smells . . . amazing, fresh and clean and delicious. I sway toward him, afraid I might fall into him, and he turns just as I right myself, his brows furrowed as he studies me.