You're Still the One (4 page)

Emily winced. “About that . . . I'm so sorry, but it's not habitable just now. I contracted some work, and it's not finished. There's no flooring anywhere, and the plumbing in the bathroom isn't even working.” She shook her head. “That'll teach me to hire someone other than my almost-son-in-law!”

Dylan, Sara's fiancé, had his hands full as the contractor in charge of The Alex. “He
is
pretty busy right now.”

“Which is why I hired someone else.” Emily waved a hand. “It's not their fault, really. They're doing their best, but the materials haven't come in yet. And anyway, between the house and the rooms that are ready at The Alex, we have plenty of space for out-of-town guests. I thought you could stay in Tori's room.”

Right down the hall from Hayden's room. Awesome.

“Thanks, that'll be great. When do you expect the apartment to be ready?” Bex would be looking for a place immediately anyway, but she wanted to know how long she'd be bunking so close to her ex.

“I wish I knew,” Emily said with regret. “You'll be the first to know! Now come into the kitchen and tell me what you've been doing.”

They walked down the short back hallway and as she rounded the corner, she was struck with her biggest dose of nostalgia yet. She'd spent so much time in this kitchen, with its cozy gathering room and view of the pool below with the backyard stretching out behind it to the forested area beyond.

Rob Archer popped up from behind the beer tap, which was situated in a second kitchen island. “Bex!”

He looked older than the last time she'd seen him—at Alex's funeral. So did Emily. Rob's hair was grayer, and they both had a few more lines. Bex couldn't imagine what they'd gone through and was glad they seemed to be happy now.

How could they not be? One of their children was about to get married, one was having a baby, and the rest were already settled down or on their way.

Except Hayden. Why did he keep invading her thoughts?

Rob came around the island. “I'm just hooking up a new keg.” He had an incredible home-brewing facility downstairs where he conducted all sorts of mouthwatering experiments.

She hugged him, and the sense of home was nearly overwhelming. Home? Oh man, did that give her system a start. She hadn't thought of Ribbon Ridge as a permanent home, and she hadn't thought of this move as coming “home.” But she also hadn't realized how much she'd missed these people. “What is it?”

“Loganberry with some honey. I made something fruity and smooth for Sara since it's her wedding week.” He stepped back and glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Too early for a sample?”

It wasn't noon, but that had never stopped Bex. When you made beer for a living, you tasted at all hours. “Never.”

With a chuckle, he went back to the keg and drew a small pour then handed her the glass. “Remember, this is for Sara.”

Sara didn't particularly care for beer. The more bitter the brew, the more she hated it. Bex expected something light and flavorful, with an edge of sweetness. She sampled it and wasn't disappointed. “She'll love it,” she said.

Rob rubbed his hands together, his gray eyes sparkling. “I think so, too. I bet you can hardly wait to get started on your own.”

At her new state-of-the-art brewhouse. Rob had designed the facility, which was attached to the back of The Arch and Fox, the restaurant at The Alex. Bex was beyond excited to begin work. “Thanks for convincing me to come.”

He laughed. “Ha! Did it really take that much? You've wanted your own brewpub for as long as I've known you. And it was you who presented me with a well-researched and thought-out plan for expanding the operation into bottling.”

Yes, she
had
done that. And she'd been disappointed when he'd declined five years ago. That had been one of the many things that had contributed to her leaving Ribbon Ridge. Professionally, it had been a dead end for her at the time.

“I'm so excited you're finally doing it. And I appreciate the opportunity to maybe bottle some of my own.” The Archer kids—Tori and Liam, specifically—had offered her the brewer position initially, but she'd waffled because of Hayden. Then Rob had called her personally and talked to her about bottling. He was finally ready to expand his production and mass-distribute his beer. And he'd said there was every chance he'd include her creations for special and seasonal lines.

He'd made it pretty much impossible for her to refuse. So here she was surprising and probably horrifying her ex. And sleeping about thirty feet from him.

“We have so much to do,” Rob said. “Derek's already working on securing some space for us to use in Portland while we build our facility between here and McMinnville.”

“Sounds exciting,” Bex said.

Emily smiled and shook her head. “It's all he talks about.”

Rob held up his hands, palms out. “Hey, I can barely compete with wedding mania.”

Emily gave him a playful punch in the arm. “It's not that bad. Sara is about the farthest you can get from a Bridezilla.”

That made sense because she was a wedding planner. She knew firsthand what it was like to deal with a nightmare and wouldn't want to be That Bride.

Emily walked to the fridge. “Can I get you something to drink besides the beer sample, Bex?”

“No, I'm good.” Bex finished off the small glass and set it back on the counter. “I should probably get settled. I wanted to drive into town this afternoon and poke around before making the thank-you baskets tonight.”

All of the girls were getting together for dinner at the house followed by assembling the baskets of goodies Sara and Dylan were giving to the guests. They were a whole new level of wedding favor, but Bex expected nothing less from an Archer who was also a wedding coordinator. The Archers did everything big, especially when it came to their generosity.

“I imagine you're tired,” Emily said. “I'm sure last night's party lasted into the wee hours.”

“Yes. It was a lot of fun. It's great seeing everyone.”

Emily crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter, smiling. “Tell me what you've been up to in Eugene. You're not breaking some poor guy's heart by moving back here, are you?” She laughed softly, but Bex wondered if it was masking something else. Was she harboring a grudge about Bex leaving Hayden?

“I was seeing someone, but we broke up a few months ago.” She'd dated a guy over the winter, but it hadn't lasted. He'd finished his graduate program at the University of Oregon in March, and they'd called it quits. Like every other relationship she'd had since Hayden, it hadn't been serious.

Bex considered saying something about her and Hayden's breakup, but maybe Emily's question hadn't been loaded.
Maybe
Bex should work harder to leave the past where it belonged.

Rob picked up Bex's empty glass and took it to the sink. “We're so glad you're back. This job was meant for you. It seems like it was just the right time for you to be back in Ribbon Ridge.”

He was making it sound like some sort of fated occurrence, as if the stars had aligned or whatever. She wasn't sure she believed that. Life was what you made it, which was one of the primary reasons she'd wanted to leave five years ago. She hadn't been ready to settle down. But now . . . Hmm, it seemed she'd just proven his point about it being the right time. Except she wasn't ready to say she was here forever. As much as she loved this family, and she did, they scared the hell out of her sometimes.

On the one hand, she envied their camaraderie and these two amazing, engaged parents. On the other, she had no idea what to do with those things. She'd had to rely on herself for so long—forever, really—and sometimes being with the Archers was a bit like wearing a pair of shoes that were a half-size too small.

And on that note, she was ready for some alone time. Emily was right about one thing—she was exhausted. “I'm just going to run out and get my bags.”

“I'll help you,” Rob offered.

He helped her with a trip up to Tori's room, and Bex was able to get the rest on her own on the second trip. She hefted the last two bags into her temporary digs and turned to close the door.

But she couldn't move. Standing there, leaning against the doorframe, his sky blue eyes watching her, was the only man she'd ever loved.

H
AYDEN FELT A
jolt when her jade green gaze connected with his. When he'd seen her earlier, he'd experienced the same awareness, but had chalked it up to his shock at running into her so unexpectedly. So what was his excuse this time?

History. It had to be their shared history. He couldn't afford to let it be anything else.

He crossed his arms, still trying to decide how he felt about her being here. He was annoyed with his siblings, but not necessarily with her. He didn't want to be bothered by it—by her—at all. He wanted a nice clean break. “How've you been?” he asked.

She blinked, and those long, inky lashes he'd loved grazed her cheeks. “Good, thanks.”

“I have to admit I'm surprised you took this job. You couldn't get out of Ribbon Ridge fast enough.”

Her eyes darkened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “You knew I had to leave after what happened.”

He shrugged, not wanting to dredge up an old, painful argument but unable to stop himself. “I know you thought leaving was the only way you could deal with losing the baby, but staying was the only way that I could.”

She glanced away and blew out a breath. “Right. I get it. We don't have to do this.”

He shook his head, glad that she didn't want to rehash it either. “We definitely do not. Looks like we're both in a good place. Things turned out all right.”

Her answering stare was long and hard. Had he said something wrong? He was happy making wine, hanging out with Gabrielle from time to time, living a chill lifestyle in France. And Bex was about to start her dream job as a brewer in charge of her own facility. “Are you not in a good place?” he asked.

She dropped her hands to her sides and shook her head. “Sorry. I'm great. Just really tired after last night. And you're right, things did turn out fine. As they were supposed to, I guess.”

Supposed
to. The old “things happen for a reason” bullshit or “this was meant to happen” excuse. He didn't buy any of it, and Alex's death had reinforced that. There was no reason or meaning in his death or in the car accident that had caused Bex to miscarry. It was tragic and terrible. Period. End of story.

“It wasn't easy,” he said quietly. They'd stupidly had unprotected sex while she'd been taking antibiotics, which had negated the effects of her birth control pills. Upon learning she was pregnant, she'd been upset. For her, the timing had been bad because she'd had
plans
. For Hayden, however, the timing had been fine. He'd had a great job, a supportive family, and he'd just bought a house in the town he planned to grow old in. The stage had been set for a happily-ever-after. “I was pretty broken for a long time.”

She took a step forward and looked as though she wanted to touch him, but that wasn't who they were anymore. “I know. I was, too. I know you didn't think that I was.”

Of course she would think that. In his anger and grief, he'd accused her of wanting to lose the baby, even after they'd decided to have it and get married. But he'd been so upset. “I was young and stupid. And I felt guilty.”

The night of the accident, they'd been arguing about where to live. It was dark, rainy, and the road had a vicious S-curve. Though he'd driven it hundreds of times, he'd miscalculated. The shoulder was unforgivingly slender and he'd driven right over it and into a deep ditch. It hadn't been a serious accident, and the doctor had said she might've miscarried anyway. But the hell of it was that they'd never know. He hadn't driven that road since.

“You don't feel guilty anymore?” Her expression softened into a smile. “I'm glad.”

She'd told him then that she didn't blame him. Which was maybe why he'd been so hard on himself. When the person you loved most in the world gave you a pass for something terrible, it was hard to let go of your own culpability. Or shame. Whatever. He'd had a hard time living with himself for a while after that.

Hadn't they both agreed they didn't have to discuss this? “This conversation is taking a real turn into the maudlin.” He infused his tone with as much levity as he could. “Completely unnecessary, especially as you're about to embark on the career of your dreams.”

She brightened. “Yes! And you're already doing your dream job, right? How are things going over there?”

He may as well continue the lie he'd told his siblings earlier—that he was taking the job in Burgundy. It was only part lie, he reasoned. Chances are, he
would
be taking the job.

“Really well, actually. They offered me a position as assistant winemaker, and I start next month.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, wow. That's great. Congratulations.” She squinted briefly. “How'd your parents take it?”

He chuckled. She knew them—and him—so well. Or at least she had once. “I was just on my way down to tell them. Wish me luck.”

She laughed, and the sound was so familiar, so filled with fond memories, that it was like smelling gingerbread and instantly feeling like Christmas. “Good luck. And now I won't worry about staying here. I was afraid that my being here in the house might be weird—the apartment isn't ready, and your mom doesn't know when it will be.”

“I see. Well, I'm still going to be here three or four weeks.” He studied her expression, but couldn't quite read her. Five years was a long time, longer than they'd been together, and she'd likely changed just as much as he had. They really didn't know each other at all anymore. “Does it matter to you if I'm here?”

She seemed to hesitate before she answered. “Should it?”

He laughed. “Look at us, trying to be so respectful of each other. We've known each other too long and too well not to be completely honest. You need to do what's best for you. I'll do the same. Deal?”

She came forward and held her hand out for a shake. “Deal.”

He shook her hand and felt . . . warmth.

“So we're friends then?”

“I think so.” But not typical friendship. More like Friends With History. If that was a thing. Yeah, it was definitely a thing.

She exhaled then smiled. “Tell me about France. I was so happy to hear about your internship. I'm not the least bit surprised you parlayed that into something permanent.”

“Thanks, it's been pretty spectacular.”

“And the internship came at the perfect time. Because of Alex dying . . . ” Her voice trailed off, and she winced. “Sorry, I didn't mean to throw the conversation off a cliff again.”

He shook his head. “It's okay. Yeah, it was perfect timing.” He didn't tell her Alex's death had been the catalyst that had finally pushed him out of Ribbon Ridge. That had been such a bone of contention for them, why revisit that conflict? She believed that his family was more important to him than she was, but that hadn't been true. She just hadn't understood the bond they shared, not when her parents were so messed up.

Maybe things with them had improved. He hoped so, for her sake. “How's your dad?”

“Still working at the ER. And with Joss, though they continue to live apart. It's so weird.” Joss was the woman her father had started dating when Bex had been in community college. The woman who had prompted Bex to leave Bend and move halfway across the state to go to Oregon State. Hayden had met Joss—she was incredibly intense—so he understood Bex's difficulties with her.

“And things are still rosy between you and her?”

Bex rolled her eyes. “Totally. She's such an enabler, but whatever. I can't fix my dad and his various issues. He's her problem now.”

Hayden doubted Bex could turn her back on him so completely. She'd been looking out for him since her parents had divorced. “Is he still self-medicating?”

She shrugged. “I guess. Like I said, I stay out of it.”

He took the hint. Bex had never liked talking about them too much. She preferred a laissez-faire approach, which was the exact opposite of what his family would do.

“How's your mom?” he asked.

Her lips curved up. “Still living the high life in Seattle. We e-mail periodically, see each other now and again. It's blissfully low maintenance.”

Yuck. Hayden couldn't imagine having that kind of relationship with his family. They'd always been pretty close, even when they'd been sprawled all over the place. “How was Eugene? Tough place to be for a Beaver.”

Eugene was home to the University of Oregon, and the state rivalry between the Oregon Ducks and the Oregon State Beavers was epic. Hayden was the only Beaver in the family, while both Liam and Tori were Ducks and pretty much everyone else rooted for the Ducks. It was just another way he was the odd man out.

She laughed. “Don't I know it? Didn't stop me from wearing my Beaver gear, especially during football season.”

Hayden smiled. They'd gone to every home game together. So many happy memories were wrapped up in Bex. So many painful ones, too. “I missed going to the games last year while I was in France.” And he'd miss them for at least two more years, assuming he took this job.

“I bet. Their version of football just doesn't cut it, I'm guessing.”

Hayden shook his head. Not that he followed the sport. He'd been too busy immersing himself in the winery. He'd wanted to soak up all he could.

She winked at him. “Maybe you should try to like it since you're going to be living there for the foreseeable future.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess. I'm still wrapping my head around it.” That was the truth. He'd thought of little else since spilling it to his siblings earlier. Well, that and Bex.

“I get it,” she said. “I imagine it would be a hard choice for you to leave Ribbon Ridge in the first place, not to mention stay away.”

Her empathy on this topic surprised him. But it
had
been five years. He couldn't cast her as the young woman who'd broken his heart anymore. At least, he shouldn't. That might be a tough adjustment. But it was one he'd have to make if he truly wanted to be friends.

“Thanks, I appreciate you saying that.”

She looked away for a moment, and when she made eye contact once more, there was a depth of emotion in her gaze that he'd never expected to see again. “I'm sorry about the way things ended.”

The wound had been raw for so long, but now it just felt . . . tired. “Like I said, it seems we've both come out all right.”

“Yes, it does.”

“I'd go so far as to say thank you. I think you did me a favor when you broke up with me.”

Her dark brows rose high on her forehead. “I did?”

“Sure. Can you imagine how different things would be? The experiences we would've missed out on?” It had taken him years to get to this place, but it felt good. “Anyway, I should get downstairs and break the news to my folks. I'll see you later, Bex.”

She reached out and touched his arm as he turned. “See you, Hayden.”

The contact of her hand against his bare flesh, though brief, rocketed through him, leaving a blazing trail in its wake. What the hell? He'd just shaken her hand with no problem. He'd also braced himself before doing it. This touch—this caress—had taken him completely off-guard. Even more than when he'd seen her at The Alex earlier.

He'd been startled, that was all. It didn't mean a thing. He shook the sensation away and went downstairs.

His parents were sitting together at the bar in the kitchen talking in low tones. Hayden felt like he was interrupting them. He briefly considered skipping this chat altogether, but knew one of his siblings would inevitably slip when they came around later.

He cleared his throat, and Mom turned, her face lighting up. “Hayden, I just love seeing you come in here.”

And, here he was about to drive a stake through her heart. No, he couldn't think of it like that. This wasn't about her. It was about him. “I need to tell you both something.”

“Uh-oh, this sounds serious,” Dad said, his mouth pulling into a slight frown. He turned on the stool and gestured to one of the chairs at the long farmhouse table. “Do you want to sit?”

“Sure.” Hayden took one of the chairs and instantly felt like a kid again. With his parents on bar stools, he had to look up at them. Not ideal when he wanted to feel like the master of his own destiny, but he'd make do. Might as well rip the bandage off quickly. “Antoine offered me a job as assistant winemaker, and I'm going to take it.”

Mom's mouth opened then closed. Her eyes widened, but she schooled her expression pretty quickly. “That's wonderful.”

He heard the tightness in her voice. “It is, but you don't have to act enthusiastic, Mom. I know you'd prefer I moved back to Ribbon Ridge.”

She relaxed and let her frown take over. “To be honest, I didn't think there would be a choice. I thought you'd be more than ready to come home.”

“Don't get me wrong, I miss you all, and I miss Ribbon Ridge, but right now this is a good decision for where I am. I'll gain so much experience. When I come back—and I will at some point—I'll have a much better chance of competing with the rock-star winemakers around here.”

“You could compete with them now,” Mom said quietly.

“Actually, I can't. There aren't enough jobs for everyone looking, and I'm the low man on the totem pole. The Archer name has a lot of cache, but not in winemaking.”

“I told you to make beer,” Dad said.

Hayden bristled, but also heard the lightness in his father's tone that said he wasn't serious. Yes, Dad had suggested he make beer, but he'd also understood Hayden's passion for grapes, not hops. “Too late.” He smiled at Dad to take any sting out of the words.

Dad reached over and clapped his hand on Hayden's knee. “I know. I'm so proud of you, son. How long will you stay over there?”