When We Kiss (10 page)

Liam turned, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Just thought I should come in and check things out. You wanted me to, right?” Dad had urged him to stop in as soon as he'd announced he was hanging out in Ribbon Ridge for a while.

Dad nodded. “Of course. I'm glad you did. You get things sorted out back in Denver?”

He'd told Dad about the mold problem last night at dinner. “Not yet. I had to order some testing this morning. We'll see what happens.” He felt strangely removed from the whole project, which was odd. He was usually right in the thick of everything. He loved his job, thrived on solving problems and closing major deals. Maybe it was just because he was so far away. Maybe he'd made a mistake in deciding to stay. He could still help with the zoning from Denver. In this day and age, just about everything could be done remotely.

“Is this weird?” Dad's quiet question startled him, but Liam knew exactly what he meant.

“The office looks different. But it looks good. It almost seems like things are the way they're supposed to be.” His throat felt tight, and he wished he hadn't said that out loud.

“I know what you mean.” Dad coughed. “The more things settle into a new rhythm, the more helpless I feel. Like what was the point if he wasn't going to be here? Why did he survive when you were all born, if he really wasn't meant to be?”

Liam stared at his dad. They didn't talk about this sort of thing. Raw feelings and true confessions weren't his forte. But he also couldn't walk away, not when he felt the same sense of unease, of frustration. “Because he
was
meant to be.
He's
the one who decided he wasn't.”

“And yet you can't deny the wonderful things it's brought about. Sara came home and found Dylan, Kyle came home and, geez, completely turned his life around. I can't imagine where he'd be right now if Alex's death hadn't triggered him to make some changes.” Dad walked over to the window and looked out, his back to Liam. “I do blame him for Tori. She was so messed up last year. Alex completely derailed her life.” Dad turned. “Did he do the same to you? I don't know . . . I have no idea how you've coped with any of it. You haven't been here. You haven't said.”

“I . . . I've managed.” That was all Liam could say. The guilt, the anger . . . Those were things he couldn't share. And may never.

Dad put his hands in his pockets. “Did you know Alex called your sister the night before he did it? That was when she'd married Sean in Vegas.”

Such shit timing for them. “Tori told me.” What no one knew—and never would—was that Alex had called Liam, too. Only Liam had answered. That conversation was burned into his brain, and yet he'd kept himself from thinking of it for going on fourteen months now. He wasn't going to dredge it up.

Dad exhaled and looked at the floor. “She felt so guilty for missing the call. I can't imagine. Well, yes I can.” He looked up, and there was torment in his gaze—a torment Liam knew only too well. “We all feel guilty. I know I do. But we can't. You were right to be angry with him. I was, too, for a long time. Sometimes I still am, but I'm learning to forgive. Have you?”

Forgive?
That word hadn't even entered Liam's mind until this moment. “I'll be honest, Dad, I try not to think about it. What's the point?”

Dad frowned. “I did that, too. It drove a wedge between your mother and me. She was overwhelmed with grief, while I just pushed it away. You have to deal with it, son.”

Liam transferred his helmet to his other arm and glanced at the ceiling. “I have. But you know me. I keep my eye on the prize.”

Dad's frown only deepened. “Yes, I know. That's why I brought this up. You don't spend time on relationships. Not with women, not with your family. Yet, here you are, and I wondered if you might be ready for a change. Like your siblings.”

Where was this going? “Do you have something specific you want to talk to me about?”

Dad pulled his hands from his pockets and took a couple of steps forward. “I do. I've always held out hope you might come back some day, that you might take over the real-estate portion of the business.”

“I've never wanted it, not when you talked to me about it after college and not now.” What he said was true, but Liam couldn't deny that for the first time, there was an appeal. Doing what he loved here in Ribbon Ridge. Taking this century-plus-old family business and turning it into something really phenomenal. He'd wanted to build something from nothing—that's why he'd said no after college. But he'd done that. Maybe it was time to shift his focus, take on a new challenge.

Dad sighed. “I know. I just hoped . . . The real estate has never been my passion. It's yours. If Alex's death gave me anything positive it was the desire to simplify my life and focus on the things that matter to me most.”

Liam read between the lines. “You want to step back from Archer?”

“Maybe.” Dad shrugged. “I'm mulling the bottling business—but don't say anything to anyone else yet. I don't want to do the day-to-day anymore. Derek can do it.” He looked at Liam intently. “That won't bother you, will it?”

Liam shook his head. “Not at all. Derek's brilliant, and he'll do a great job.”

“But he's not a real-estate guy,” Dad said. “You could run that entire division. Kyle's going to leave as soon as the restaurant is ready to open. Plus, he's got this burgeoning career as a celebrity chef, it seems.”

Liam had picked up on that. He'd won a competitive cooking show, and Sean was producing a series about Kyle's restaurant with Kyle starring. The other day, Kyle had mentioned guest hosting some other cooking show. He was ideally suited for all of that with his effortless charm and approachability. Everyone liked Kyle, and they liked his food even more.

“What about Hayden?” Liam asked. Interning at the winery in France had been a dream come true for him. His internship would be over in July, and he hadn't shared his future plans.

“I don't know what he's going to do, but I can't see him returning to Archer, even if he does come home. He was great at his job, but I'm not sure he was ever truly happy. I think he only stayed because no one else did—to be here for me.”

Liam wanted to take issue with that. He wasn't going to feel guilty for pursuing his career and his goals because Hayden hadn't had the balls to go after his. Wait, is that how Liam really felt? That wasn't fair of him.

“Was that important to you?” Liam asked softly, hating this conversation. Dad had been right when he'd said that Liam didn't spend time on relationships. Too complicated and hard to manage. He preferred things he could control. “Did you need him to stay?”

“Need?” Dad shook his head. “No. But I wanted him to. I wanted all of you to stay. We're a family and the only Archers left in Ribbon Ridge. I'd hate to see us die out.”

Liam laughed at that. “Uh, you had
seven
kids. I think you single-handedly saw to it that we wouldn't.”

Dad joined in his laughter. “And there's already a grandkid on the way.” His eyes widened briefly, and he whistled between his teeth. “I still can't get my head around that. And I can't believe it's Evan, of all people. My money was on Tori.”

“I think everyone's money was on Tori. She was always the little mother, and she did get married first.”

“Well, the only thing that would surprise me more than Evan becoming the first parent would be if you settled down,” Dad said wryly.

“Ha, don't count on it.”

Dad came forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “I know. So that's a no on coming back and overseeing real estate?”

Liam hated disappointing his dad, but he'd chosen to leave Ribbon Ridge, and he hadn't looked back. “That's a no.”

Dad exhaled softly and nodded. He made to leave, but Liam stopped him. “Dad, thanks. You've always been supportive and understanding, and I appreciate it.”

“Of course, son.” Dad flashed him a smile, then left.

Liam looked around the office and was pleased to find the sense of discomfort had gone. This was Evan's place now. He walked out and closed the door behind him.

For some reason, Dad's offer resonated in Liam's brain. It was tempting, he had to admit, but he couldn't come back to Ribbon Ridge. He could maybe manage the division from Denver though, right? He'd been saving to buy a plane. He could fly himself back and forth.

Maybe Aubrey would fly with him, since she wouldn't jump. Wait, Aubrey? When had his brain transferred over to her? He realized she'd been there the whole time, just underneath the surface. He'd thought of her dozens of times yesterday, hating how Sunday night had gone. Then, outside, he'd nearly kissed her. He'd wanted to. If he could go back, he would.

Or not. She'd been justifiably mad at him.

He stalked out of the office building to his bike. His gaze fell on the seat behind his. Yes, he needed another helmet so she could ride with him.
But the helmet is no guarantee she'll do it.

Still, he wanted to try. Whatever had happened between them, he liked her. He'd liked helping with her TV, and he'd liked having her over at the house. They could be friends, right? So he didn't typically have women friends. Maybe that was the change he was feeling. Maybe it was time he had a woman friend.

And he couldn't think of a better one than Aubrey.

A
UBREY WAS GLAD
she was so busy with work, because it meant she didn't have to lie when she'd invited Stuart over for a glass of wine at eight o'clock instead of for dinner due to having to work late. A glass of wine was a much better—and shorter—occasion over which to tell someone that you wanted to just be friends.

“Red or white?” she asked as Stuart sat on one of the stools at her kitchen island.

“Red, please.”
So polite.

She pulled a bottle of red from the small decorative rack on the wall and brought it to the island.

“Want me to open that?” he offered.

“Sure.” She pulled a corkscrew from the drawer and slid the tool and the bottle toward him. Then she turned to grab a couple of glasses from the cabinet. As she pulled one off the shelf, it slipped from her fingers. She just managed to catch it before it hit the granite and splintered into a thousand shards.

Ugh, she was nervous. Why couldn't she like Stuart enough? He had a great job, a fantastic sense of humor, and respectable, normal hobbies like playing racquetball and hiking. And he looked great with a beard, which couldn't be said of all men. Liam looked freaking fantastic with three or four days of stubble. By the end of the concert weekend last Labor Day, he'd looked scrumptiously scruffy.

Scrumptiously scruffy?

She inwardly groaned as she headed back to the island with the glasses.

Stuart slid the bottle toward her. “I'll let you pour.”

She splashed the garnet liquid into the glasses and summoned her courage. “We're friends, right?”

Stuart picked up his glass. “I think so.”

She tapped her glass against his. “To friendship.”

He drank, then his lips twisted into a frown. “Why don't I like the sound of where this is going?”

She exhaled and set her glass on the counter, then braced her hands against the edge. “I thought I should be clear with you—I don't see us as more than friends. You're a great guy, just not my great guy.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

He nodded slowly. “I'd say ouch, but I can't say I'm surprised. We've been on a half dozen dates and only kissed a few times. While they were nice kisses, they didn't set off any fireworks. At least for me,” he added with an apologetic smile.

“I'll say ouch!” She laughed, feeling so much better about this than she had even thirty seconds ago. Nevertheless, that didn't make his take on their kisses go down any easier. Which was stupid, because she couldn't disagree. “See, you're a super great guy.”

“Because I just insulted your kissing?”

“Hey, it takes two to make that work.” The conversation had shifted to where they did feel like friends. Good friends. With no sexual expectation or weirdness. Like with Liam.

His eyes glinted with mirth. “True.” He lifted his glass and took another drink. “Who's the lucky guy who
does
set off your fireworks?”

Damn, was she that transparent? “No one I want to be hung up on, unfortunately.”

He winced. “That makes it tough. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not especially.” Instead, she steered the conversation to the hike he'd taken last weekend. When they finished their respective glasses of wine, Stuart stood up.

“I should take off. Thanks for inviting me over.”

Aubrey walked around the island. “Thanks for coming. I hope everything's cool. Seems like it?”

He smiled down at her. “Definitely. Like I said, I wasn't surprised. Maybe a little disappointed, but I get it. I appreciate you being so great about it and not texting me or something.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends.”

“I'd like that, and I still think you're a great lawyer.” They'd met at a young professionals mixer in McMinnville, where his accounting firm was located.

“That means you'll still toss me the occasional client?”

He laughed, but his answering look was earnest. “I think I have to. That last guy you sent me has been terrific.”

“I'm so glad.” Friends and professional allies then. She walked him to the door and gave him a hug. “Thanks.”

He squeezed her tightly, then let her go. “I hope this guy's worth it.”

“He's not. I just need to get him out of my system so I can really move on.”

“Good luck with that. Took me a long time to get over my college girlfriend. Sometimes you just have to let time work its magic. It also helps if you live in different states.” He winked at her.

Yes, that would help immensely. When Liam went back to Denver, maybe then she could get over him. She thought she'd been well on her way until he'd come home for Evan's wedding. That was the only reason she'd started dating Stuart this spring—she wouldn't have if she'd thought Liam would come between them as he had. She had a sudden urge to be the one to push Liam out of the plane next time he went skydiving.

She waved at Stuart as he drove away, then went back inside, locking the door behind her. Her gaze landed on the TV Liam had installed, then moved to the stairs on which Liam had stripped off half of her clothes one night last August—the day after Derek and Chloe's wedding.

Liam, Liam, Liam. Everywhere she looked.

With a groan, she headed back to the kitchen—and the wine. Just as she reached the island, there was a knock on the door. Instinctively, she glanced around looking for something Stuart might have left but didn't see anything.

Turning, she went back to the door and froze at the sight of Liam through the glass panes in the upper portion. He really was everywhere she looked.

Blinking hard, she hoped he was just a figment of her tired and overwrought imagination. Nope, he was really there. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. “Liam, this is a surprise.”

“I thought I'd stop in to ask if you wanted to go flying with me—not skydiving, since I'm pretty sure I know your stance on that.”

She shuddered. The idea of flinging herself out of a plane on purpose was the stuff of nightmares. Flying, however, she could get behind. But flying with Liam? Hadn't she just had a conversation about getting over this guy?

She crossed her arms. “I don't know. I'm pretty busy with the appeal, and when that's done you'll be gone.”

“You almost sound hopeful.”

She inwardly cringed. She didn't mean to be rude. “I didn't mean it to sound that way.” She squinted at him for a moment, suspicion rifling through her. “You came over here just to ask me to go flying? You could've texted.”

“I could've, but I was out for a ride anyway.” He leaned against the doorframe in a careless but utterly sexy pose. “Plus, I had a radical thought. I wondered if you and I—” Aubrey held her breath as he paused. She and him what? “I wondered if we could be friends.”

Friends?
Was this some sort of National Friendship Day or something? How had tonight turned into friend conversations with two different guys? Belatedly, she realized it would be polite to invite Liam in. However, she still wasn't sure she should.
Friends, really?

Why not? Maybe putting that out there, setting a boundary was exactly what she needed to get over the hump of putting Liam behind her for good. Plus, as his friend, she could offer friendly advice. Such as pulling back on the extreme sports before his mother had a heart attack or something. “Sure. I'd like to be friends.” She added a smile for good measure.

“Does this mean you want to go flying?”

She had to admit that Liam flying her in a plane sounded pretty amazing. “When?”

He shrugged. “Let me check my buddy's schedule for the next couple weekends. It's his plane. I'm still saving up to buy one.”

He was? She wondered if that would freak his mom out. It shouldn't. Responsible flying was one thing—he was a trained pilot, after all. Crazy-ass sports that endangered his life with heightened risk were something else entirely.

“I'm not sure about this weekend,” she said. “I need to work on the brief.”

“Next weekend, then. Provided I can get a plane.” He flashed her his sexy smile, and she braced herself against the onslaught of attraction. It was still there, of course, but if she worked hard, perhaps over time she'd beat it into submission. Yes, she could do that. She
would
do that.

“Do you want to come in? I have wine.”
Careful, Aubrey, keep him firmly in the damn Friend Zone.

Showing a better flair for judgment than Aubrey, Liam shook his head. “I better not. I'm sure you have to be up early for work, and I have a seven a.m. conference call.”

Aubrey exhaled—softly—with relief. “Yep, I do. Thanks for stopping by. I guess I'll see you . . . soonish?”

He pushed away from the doorframe. “I'll let you know about when we can fly. And keep me posted on the brief—you're going to send it over when you have a draft, right?”

“That's the plan. I have a few other things going on right now, too—hearings, a deposition next Tuesday.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you sure you have time to get it done?”

She smiled placidly, trying not to let his doubt needle her. It was a legitimate question posed by a client. “Plenty. It was already partially done before the clock started ticking when Sutherlin filed his brief, and I have twenty-one days to file my response.”

He held up a hand. “I didn't mean to imply you wouldn't get it done. My bad. I'm sure it's coming along great. See you later.” He strolled off her porch and picked up his helmet from the seat of his bike.

She closed and locked the door without watching him ride away. His question had unsettled her. She was nervous about this brief, and she shouldn't be. She was a competent lawyer with good land-use experience. Yes, Sutherlin had been trying cases nearly as long as she'd been alive, but that didn't mean he would automatically out-lawyer her.

Though it sure as hell made her anxious. And Liam's uncertainty didn't help.

She blew out a breath and went to the kitchen to pour that second glass of wine. She was just tired. And stretched a bit thin, what with all the friend talk tonight. Two perfectly great guys had crossed her threshold tonight, and not one of them was boyfriend material.

That sucked.

L
IAM WORE A
frown as he took off from Aubrey's house. He'd seen Stuart the Accountant pulling away. Had they just finished a date? Aubrey had looked great—very date-like in white jeans and a sapphire blue sweater with a V-neck that showed the perfect amount of cleavage. Just enough to make you appreciate the view as well as tempt you to want more.

And he wanted more.

Only she'd been crystal clear on not continuing a physical relationship with him, and he couldn't offer more. He wasn't interested in being a boyfriend anytime soon. Hell, he wasn't sure he ever would be—there were just too many other things in life to do, and if he knew one thing for certain, it was that life was unpredictable and too, too short.

What he
could
offer was friendship. He was actually looking forward to being friends. He liked spending time with her even when it wasn't physical, which is more than he could say for his past flings. Yikes, he sounded like a total manwhore.

Anyway, even as friends, her romantic life was none of his business. So what if she'd had a date with Stuart the Accountant? He'd left before ten o'clock, so it couldn't have been that great.

Knock it off, Archer. None of your business, remember?

He rode to The Arch and Vine, which was only a couple of blocks from her house, and parked out front. At half past nine on Tuesday night, Ribbon Ridge was pretty quiet.

As he stepped off his bike, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and was disappointed to see that it wasn't Aubrey, but Whitney. She texted him every couple days and asked if he wanted to hang out. He always ignored her, and tonight was no different. This text said she was bored and invited him to come over. Her hot tub was a hundred and two degrees, and swimsuits were optional.

He gritted his teeth and made a mental note to block Whitney's number.

Suddenly eager for a beer, he went into the pub and was greeted by George, who'd been tending bar at The Arch and Vine since Dad had opened it over a decade ago. He'd been a close friend even longer than that, and the whole family saw him as just another Archer.

“Liam,” George called. “Come sit next to Derek and talk to him so he'll leave me alone.”

Derek, perched on one of the stools, turned. “Hey, Liam.”

Liam nodded and sat on the stool next to him. “Derek. What's up?”

“I'm here to pick up Chloe when her shift is over.”

Liam thought Chloe had stopped waiting tables here to focus on the art she was doing at The Alex. “I didn't think she worked here anymore.”

“She helps out in a pinch. She just came in for a few hours because someone had an emergency. She's off at ten.”

Liam set his helmet on the empty stool to his right. “You're early.”

“I wanted a beer. Sue me.”

Liam grinned as he clapped him on the back. “Me, too.”

“Longbow?” George knew Liam's preferred beer.

“Yes, please.”

Derek inclined his head toward Liam's helmet. “Out for a ride?”

Liam nodded as George set his pint on the bar in front of him. “It's a nice night.”

“If I thought Chloe would put up with me riding a motorcycle, I'd join you. But I think she'd probably divorce me.”

“This is why I'm not married. I can only imagine what she'd do if you came along with me windsurfing or skydiving.”

Derek cocked his head to the side. “Actually, I've always wanted to skydive.”

Liam picked up his glass. “I had no idea. You know I could make that happen.”