looked at her funny for a moment, as if someone had told a bad joke he didn’t get. A muscle near his eye twitched. Slowly, his hand unsteady, he reached to pull her glasses from her face. He pulled her ponytail down, his fingers trembling.
She sensed him pulling away from her.
“Oh my God,” he murmured. “Oh, no.”
Clove’s heart sank.
“This can’t be,” Archer said. “You can’t be her. You can’t be pregnant.” To say that he was horrified would be putting it mildly. She could see in his face that he still didn’t want to be a father. He was not in love with her. In fact, he hadn’t known she was who she was. “Tell me I’m dreaming,” he said. “A big, huge, ugly nightmare.”
She blinked at his harshness.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I mean, we went looking for you that night at Two-Bits. Well, Bandera was trolling for the bar-stool babe, and he took off with three stylists he met dancing that night. I was hanging around waiting for you to show up, thinking you needed a guardian eye. But you were the bar-stool babe.” He frowned. “I really thought you might need my protection.”
“I was fine.”
“That’s what you said that night when I asked you about birth control.” Archer told himself his heart wasn’t going to bust a valve; taking a deep breath, he made himself calm down. “You said you were fine.”
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