The Idea of You (6 page)

“I think I can manage my own relationships, thanks.” Or nonrelationships, such as they were. “She's fine.” Except she texted him sometimes and asked him to visit. He'd declined at first, but now he pretty much ignored her. Shit, maybe Tori was right.

She exhaled. “I'll stop micromanaging. You know I'm just trying to help, right?”

“I do. Thanks.”

Tori pivoted and started toward the stairs. “But seriously, if you and Alaina are going to date, let me know.”

He followed her up. “Why, so you and everybody else can meddle? I heard how much you appreciated that when Sean was trying to woo you back last fall.”

“Oooh, that burns!” She laughed. “Point taken. I'll mind my own business.”

They got to the top, and she turned again and then touched his arm. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I think you want me to be in love—like you are.”

She cracked a smile. “Maybe I do. It's pretty great.”

He could see it all around him. Her and Sean. Sara and Dylan. Derek and Chloe. All of them happily married or engaged. Then there was Kyle and Maggie. Not married or engaged yet, but definitely happy.

“See you later.” He left her and hurried upstairs to his room for some quiet. He needed downtime every day, otherwise he'd be an overstimulated mess. He pulled up his e-mail and saw a message from Dad.

Evan swallowed as he opened it, surprised to find he felt a bit nervous. But it was his first big promotional campaign for Archer. No, it was his first big promotional campaign, period. Dad had taken a chance when he'd hired a fledgling marketing and design consultant. Evan had come up with the idea to shield his identity after Alex had died—he hadn't wanted to go after his brother's job, not in the midst of everyone's grief. Last summer, he'd set up the fake company, and in the fall, he'd applied for the job under the identity of Eric Steele and said he suffered from acute agoraphobia, which would prevent him from interviewing in person or working at the company facility. It seemed like a crazy idea, but Evan had worked hard to dot every i and cross every t to ensure he came off as credible and capable. And it had worked.

Evan scanned the e-mail, his adrenaline pumping.

Eric,

When you promised us innovation as well as a keen understanding of our brand, I thought you were just saying what every applicant says and what employers want to hear. However, your earnestness and attention to detail won us over, and we hired you. I never imagined you'd deliver something so quickly and that it would be so spot-on perfect. This is incredible. The logo you designed for our summer festival beer is fantastic and the name . . . well, it's Epic!

Evan smiled. Every beer they'd ever made bore a name that was tied somehow to archery. He'd wanted something a little bit different but in keeping with the idea of something archery might represent. He'd thought of mythology and legend and literature with archers, and so many of them were epic. It seemed the right name.

I understand your disability doesn't allow us to meet in person, but if we could, I'd shake your hand. Hell, I might even give you a hug. Well done!

Please move forward with everything you discussed and let us know when you have collateral designs.

Best,

Rob Archer

Evan couldn't stop grinning. He'd thought he'd done a good job, but he hadn't known. This was all so new to him. He was tempted to share this with someone, and strangely, Alaina came to mind. He shook his head. Maybe Tori.

But then he'd have to ask her to keep it a secret from Dad and everyone else.

Or, he could come clean with Dad. He
should
. But he wasn't ready yet. He'd nailed this assignment, but what if it was the only one? What if everything else he did fell completely short? He could hear everyone telling him, “At least you're great at the tech stuff. You'll always have something to fall back on there.”

While he couldn't argue with that, it wasn't what he wanted. And Alex had been right—Evan hadn't known what that was. Until now.

A
ROUND NOON ON
Sunday, Evan knocked on the door to the garage apartment. He was a little tired, but then he'd stayed up working past two at the cabin, where he'd set up his work space. He'd chosen the small building as his secret office where he could lay out all of his design work and inspiration without anyone seeing it. Hardly anyone visited the homestead, meaning the house, and
no one
went down the hill to the small cabin that had been the first dwelling of Benjamin Archer, who'd founded Ribbon Ridge.

Evan had been so into his design work, he'd barely noticed the time. If not for the protein bars stuffed in his desk drawer, he might not have remembered to eat. He was glad he'd put a couch in the cabin, as it had given him a place to crash.

The door opened, and Alaina looked surprised. “Evan, I didn't realize you were coming.”

“Sorry, I would've texted, but I realized we didn't exchange numbers.”

“No, we didn't.” She cocked her head to the side. “You could've asked Sean for my number.”

“Didn't think of it. Are you ready to go to The Alex?”

“The Alex?” She looked at him in confusion.

“The monastery that we're converting into a hotel. Kyle's restaurant?”

“I didn't realize it was called The Alex. That's really nice.”

He saw her smile, even though he was looking past her into the apartment. “So, are you ready?”

“Um, no.” She laughed. “I didn't know you were coming! Let me throw some makeup on and fix my hair.”

He looked at her and did a quick survey. Her dark blonde hair hung around her face in waves. She wasn't wearing makeup, but he only noticed because she'd said so. “You're naturally beautiful. You don't have to do any of that.”

She laughed again. “I suppose you're right—not the beautiful part, but that I don't have to wear makeup. It's not like the paparazzi are waiting outside.” She glanced toward the windows. “Are they?”

He still didn't know why she was hiding out, and he supposed he
could
Google her. Maybe he would. Later. If he thought of it. “No one here but us. My folks still aren't back yet.”

“I gathered that. I went over to the house last night looking for you, but the entire place was empty.”

“You searched the house?” He wondered if that included the bedrooms. His room was a potentially embarrassing mix of his younger and current selves.

“I didn't open every door, if that's what you're asking.” She grinned. “I'm not that nosy! Let me get my shoes.” She disappeared into the bedroom.

Evan looked around the apartment. Though she'd only been here a couple of days, it looked lived in. Her coat and a jacket hung from the framed hooks on the wall. Her purse was on the kitchen bar. The kitchen itself was cluttered with dishes, and a box of crackers stood open on the counter. He went and closed it up.

“You don't have to clean up after me,” she said, coming toward the kitchen as she put a small hoop earring in one ear.

“I hate stale crackers.”

“Who doesn't? It was my weak attempt at lunch. I've never been very good at cooking for just myself. Seems pointless.”

“Is that why you invited me the other night?”

“That and your hotness.” She flashed a smile, and it was like a gut-punch of heat. “I would've invited you last night, too, but I couldn't find you. Like I said, the house seemed empty.”

“I wasn't there.” Because he'd been at the cabin working. He probably could've worked at home, since his parents were gone, but he kept his work stuff completely separate. He didn't need anyone barging in while he had Archer creative stuff open across his computer monitors.

He thought of what she'd said earlier about exchanging numbers. “You could've gotten my cell phone number from Sean.”

“I could've. But . . . I don't know.” She shrugged. “I can't quite read you. I'm not sure if I'm a nuisance or not.”

“Definitely not a nuisance.” He swiped his hand through the cropped hair over his ear. “Listen, as bad as I am at reading cues, I might be even worse at giving them. I'm incredibly literal—often to a fault. And when I'm occupied with something, I'm occupied.”

“Were you occupied last night?” She hesitated before adding, “I wondered if you were maybe on a date. It was Saturday night, after all.”

He looked at her, and the connection of their gazes was potent enough to make him look immediately away. It was almost like her touch—wonderful but completely disruptive at the same time. What he couldn't decide was whether that disruption was good or bad, but he was leaning toward good. Very, very good.

And that was bad.

He hadn't felt an attraction like that since he'd first met Michelle. He didn't need another Michelle right now.

That was absurd. Alaina was nothing like Michelle, and he highly doubted there was any sort of potential for a physical connection. She was here for a short time, and they were just hanging out.

“I don't really date.”

“Why not?”

He turned from her and opened the door. “Come on, you can interrogate me in the car.”

Her laughter followed him down the stairs. He held the door open for her at the bottom and closed it after she walked outside. She'd grabbed a jacket and her purse.

“I wasn't trying to interrogate you. You don't have to talk about your love life.”

Love life?
He turned toward the garage where he kept his Subaru Forester—one of the middle bays beneath the apartment. “I've never had one of those.”

She hurried to walk beside him. “Wait, are you saying you're a virgin?”

He stopped at the door and flicked her a glance. “I never said
that
.”

“Whew.” She exhaled. “I thought I had a Jamie Fraser on my hands.”

He punched in the code, and the garage door opened. “Who's that?”

“Eighteenth-century Scottish hero from a great book series. Super hot, very gentlemanly, and a virgin until his wife deflowers him.”

“Deflowers?”

She giggled. “Too much?”

“I'm not sure I've heard that word before, though I can deduce what it means.” He opened the car door for her.

She nodded toward the open door. “See? Gentlemanly. And we've established your hotness quotient.”

“I'm not Scottish. Actually, there might be some Scots blood on my Dad's side. Yeah, I think so.”

She slid him a sideways look as she sat in the car. “But not a virgin?”

He curved his mouth into a half-smile. “Definitely not.”

She smiled back, but there was nothing halfway about it. “Goody.”

He closed the door and walked around to his side. Even he had to realize she was flirting with him. What was he going to do about that?

He climbed into the car and started the engine. “I didn't text Sean. Is that okay? I'd rather show you the place myself.” Apparently
that
was what he was going to do about her flirting.

“Well, Sean is my partner. I should probably text him.” She was quiet a moment. “You know what? Never mind. I'll text him later. Let's go.”

Evan pulled out of the garage and clicked the remote to close the door. He drove through the porte cochere and around the fountain in the front of the house, then down the long drive to the gate.

“How far is it?” she asked.

“Maybe ten minutes. Up the hill a bit.”

“So Alex left this place to you in his will, and none of you had a clue?”

He remotely opened the gate and drove through to the end of the road, where he turned left to head up into the hills. “No, but then, the only person who lived here at the time was Hayden. And he didn't live in the house—he has a place on the other side of town. Kyle and Maggie are living there now while Hayden's in France.”

“Sounds like you all drifted apart.”

“Sort of. Everyone's fairly close, even when we aren't together. We can go periods of time without seeing each other or even communicating, and when we finally do, it's like no time has passed. But I talk to Tori all the time—at least texting and IMing.”

“Sounds like you and Tori are pretty tight,” she said. “I don't have any siblings.”

He couldn't imagine what that would be like. The quiet, the lack of insanity . . . “Sometimes they're more trouble than they're worth.”

“Was that a bit of sarcasm? It sounded like it, but you said you were literal, so I have to ask.”

“Yeah, that was sarcasm—I'm occasionally capable of that.”

She nudged his arm, surprising him. “That makes me feel better. I'm the Queen of Sarcasm, or so Crystal tells me.”

“Who's Crystal?”

“My assistant. And my oldest friend. I guess she's the closest thing to a sibling I have.”

“There's the monastery.” He pointed through the windshield to the spire that climbed two hundred feet.”

She leaned forward. “Wow, I wasn't expecting something so big.”

He rounded the corner and pulled into the large gravel lot. To the left was the trailer they used as an office. He parked on the other side of the lot, nearer the restaurant. He jumped out, but she was already climbing from the car before he could get there.

“You're not letting me be a gentleman.”

“I won't deduct any points.” She winked at him as she closed the door. She put her hands on her hips as she looked at the restaurant. “This is going to be so amazing. Was this a church?”

“Yep. Over there was the monks' quarters. That'll be the hotel. We've started that phase, even though the restaurant isn't quite done.”

“Sean said there was a zoning problem delaying things. The restaurant was supposed to be open by now?”

He nodded. “New Year's was the original goal, but the zoning issue put a wrench in that. We're hoping to get everything squared away so we can open this summer, but the zoning appeal is taking forever.”

“Sean also said it was because of some guy who's got some decades-old vendetta against your dad?”

“Yeah, something like that. I don't pay too much attention to that sort of thing.”

“Smart of you to stay away from drama.” A sharp wind blew over them, and she shivered. “Can we go in?”

He went to the heavy wooden door on the right and unlocked it. Then he held it open for her. “After you.”

“Wow.” She walked past him into the restaurant.

It looked somewhat like a dining area since the tables and chairs had been delivered, plus there were two banks of booths. Nothing had been set up, however, so it was sort of a jumbled mess. Evan suppressed the urge to order everything.

“I love that some of the church elements have remained—the stained glass windows and the dark wood. It has a kind of English country house feel. Very cozy.”

“It seemed a bit dark, so they installed those wide windows on either side of the door.” Evan gestured behind them.

“A good idea. That lets in a lot of natural light.” She moved toward the far wall. They'd put in a massive fireplace where the altar had been. “This is gorgeous. I love the stonework.” She ran her fingertips over the rock but quickly withdrew her hand. “Brrr, that's cold!”

“Yeah, there's no heat on in here today, sorry.”

“It's okay. I should've packed a hat and a scarf and gloves. But I was in too much of a hurry when I left, and I just didn't think of it.” She smiled, shaking her head. “February in southern California is not the same as February in Ribbon Ridge.”

“No, it's not. If you need that stuff, I can pick it up for you in town.” He'd bought Tori's purple hat at a little boutique called The Knitty Gritty. It was run by two sisters who knitted a lot of the products. They also carried an array of accessories. It was the sort of store that gave a guy a headache if he stayed in there too long, but his mom and sisters loved it.

“You are the nicest guy. And no drama. Are you for real?” She came closer and touched his chest. “Yep, real.”

Then she moved away, and he just barely restrained himself from dragging her hand back. Touch was a weird thing for him. Sometimes he wanted nothing to do with it, but others, the craving for human connection was almost painful. And right now, he wanted it. From her.

Thankfully she strolled over to the bar area. “I just want to sit down and order a Spanish coffee.”

He joined her but kept his distance. “There isn't any alcohol here. And we can't get a liquor license yet.”

“A girl can dream.” She tossed him a smile before cutting around the bar to the doors into the kitchen. “Where does this lead?”

“Kitchen, office, bathrooms are to the right.” He gestured down the hallway that terminated behind the bar.

She nodded as she continued along the short corridor, passing Kyle's office and heading to the kitchen.

“Holy smokes, this is amazing.” She walked along the various prep areas. “It looks ready to go.”

“It pretty much is.” He followed her as she went to the wide window that looked over what would be an herb and vegetable garden and tried not to stare at her backside. She wore tight black pants tucked into knee-high brown boots. And underneath her coat was a very soft-looking V-neck ivory sweater.

“I love that there's natural light in here, too. It feels like a real kitchen, not commercial. Are there going to be veggies out there?” She pointed out the window.

“Yes. Kyle's girlfriend, Maggie, is a gardener. She's plotted the whole thing out so there'll be fresh produce. There's a root cellar from the original building, too.”

She turned from the window. “That's so great that you're able to bring in some of the existing aspects of the place.”

“As much as we can. There's an underground room and tunnels where the monks used to store wine that they made. Dylan—that's Sara's fiancé—had the idea to convert it into a pub. They're working on the exterior door now, well not
right
now. It's supposed to look like a door from Hobbiton.”