When We Kiss (9 page)

Liam took his dinner and went to sit next to Aubrey.

She leaned over and whispered, “Everything all right?”

“Fine.”

“Didn't look like it. You and Kyle aren't arguing again, are you? I thought you two were finally getting along.”

He peered at her. “When did you become so involved in my family?”

Her eyes widened briefly before she turned her head to her plate. “Sorry.”

Shit, he was a jerk. Kyle had riled him up. No, he couldn't blame it on Kyle. Whitney riled him up. Whitney and her dad and their fucked-up vendetta. “No, I'm sorry. Really, everything's fine.”

She didn't look at him. “Sure.”

He gritted his teeth and ate his pizza. He also polished off his beer and stood up to get another.

“Would you mind pulling a pitcher?” Dad asked as Liam went to the bar.

“Make that two,” Derek called.

Liam nodded. As he pulled the tap and filled the pitchers, he couldn't shake the sense of irritation that his conversation with Kyle had wrought. He hated that Whitney was trying to manipulate him. He refused to be managed.

When both pitchers were full he carried them back to the table, setting one at each end. “Hey, I need to tell you all something.”

Kyle's head snapped up, and Liam gave him a subtle nod. Kyle nodded back, and his gaze was both approving and supportive. This brotherly . . . camaraderie between them was different. Liam had always felt it with Alex, but they'd been identical twins. Their bond was special. He hadn't thought he could share that with his other siblings, but maybe he was wrong.

“Listen, about the zoning problem with the Parkers . . . ”

“You mean Russ Parker,” Dad said darkly, his mouth hardening with anger.

“I mean Russ and his daughter, Whitney. She and I used to, uh, we used to see each other.” He glanced at Aubrey to see her reaction, but she kept her head down. Damn it, he wanted her to look at him so he could tell her—nonverbally—that Whitney didn't mean anything.

He did? What did he care what Aubrey thought?

Because he'd just intimated that he and Whitney had dated, which is more than what he'd done with Aubrey. He supposed he should've just said they'd been fuck buddies, but he couldn't bring himself to articulate that in front of his parents.

He felt like the biggest ass. Why
hadn't
he dated Aubrey? Because she lived here in Ribbon Ridge, where he never planned to live again, and his home was in Denver. It wasn't like she could pick up and move. One, she wasn't licensed to practice law in Colorado, and two, that promised something he wasn't prepared to offer: permanence or at least longevity.

“When was this?” Mom asked.

“A couple of years ago. Before Alex died. I broke things off with her that Christmas.” Why did it feel like his life had two distinct parts now? Before Alex's death and after. They had two very specific feelings. In the first, he'd been more carefree. Now he was burdened. No, that wasn't exactly true. He'd always felt burdened. Guilty.

Stop it
, he told himself. He wasn't going down that path. Not today. Not ever again. Alex's death had at least relieved him of that weight.

“You think she's behind this?” Tori asked, sitting back in her chair.

Everyone was staring at him, he realized. Everyone but Aubrey. Why had he done this now? Why hadn't he thought to tell her first? Alone, when he could've explained things a little bit better. She deserved that.

“Not entirely, but I don't think she's blameless. She intimated that I could maybe make this problem go away if I get back with her.” He tried to make it sound like what it was—a meaningless hook-up without saying that exactly. Damn it, this entire conversation was making him feel decidedly unpleasant. Dirty even.

“Yikes.” Kyle took a drink of beer. “None of us want you to do that, bro.”

There were answering nods and comments.

Dylan shook his head, grimacing. “She sounds like a piece of work.”

Tori made a distasteful expression, her lips twisting. “I think I have a sports bra from her company. I'm tossing that in the garbage as soon as I get home.”

“I might have one, too,” Sara said. “Let's burn them.”

“I'll light the fire,” Liam said.

Aubrey glanced at him finally, but her eyes were clear. Absolutely devoid of emotion. Which likely meant she was pissed. Or hurt. Or both.

“Anyway, that's it.” Liam sat down.

Conversation picked back up. Some people talked about the zoning, but Liam didn't join in. He tipped his head toward Aubrey. “I should've told you in private.”

She shrugged, keeping her focus on her dinner. “Why? It's not really my business. I mean, not beyond the zoning, but the Parkers' reasons for appealing don't really matter.”

“Can't you argue that their appeal is frivolous or something?”

“Maybe, but I doubt the board is going to care whether Russ and Whitney are scorned lovers.” She picked up her beer. “Don't worry about it.”

“I wasn't dating her,” he said, wishing she'd turn her head to look at him.

She finally cocked her head, and he caught the fire in her eyes. “You were just hooking up, right? Like you did with me. No need to explain. That's your MO.”

Yes, it was. And what had been his intent?
Don't worry, she didn't mean any more to me than you did, which is to say, you both meant nothing.

“Actually, it wasn't like with you,” Liam said. “I never once sought her out. When she heard I was in town, she called me.”

She turned her head, and her gaze was incredulous. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Chloe, maybe the biggest
Game of Thrones
fan in the room, jumped up from her chair. “Hey, it's time to watch the show!”

All heads turned to the clock on the wall, and nearly every chair moved back from the table in unison.

Sean reached for one of the pitchers. “Refill time.”

Everyone collected their drinks and filtered downstairs.

Liam touched Aubrey's arm. “Hey, are you mad at me?”

She blinked. “Should I be?”

“I might be, if I were you.”

She smiled, but it was deceptively serene. “Well, you're not me. There's a reason I broke things off with you, Liam. I'm a nice girl with simple dreams. You're a player seeking world domination. What you do doesn't affect me. I'm going down to watch the show.” She turned and left the kitchen.

He followed but knew he'd have to watch the show again later, because he wasn't going to be able to focus while his mind was wrapped up with what she'd said. She
was
a nice girl, but he doubted her dreams were simple. She was far too intelligent, too fun-loving, too dynamic. But he really didn't know. He'd never bothered to ask what her dreams were. Now that he wanted to know, he doubted she would tell him.

A
UBREY SOMEHOW MANAGED
to lose herself in the show. She'd been so angry at the start. And
that
made her mad. She didn't want to feel betrayed or jealous or anything else to do with Liam. That's why she'd broken things off—so she wouldn't feel those things.

Ugh. Get over it already
, she told herself.

“I'm so glad you came tonight,” Sara told her as they all stood up from the theater seats.

Aubrey had strategically positioned herself between Sara and Chloe so that she wouldn't have to sit by Liam. She wasn't sure where he'd sat or if he'd even come down to watch.

“I am, too,” Aubrey said. “Thanks for having me.”

Chloe touched her arm. “Come back next week. You can't beat watching it on that screen.”

No, she couldn't. The television she'd bought was huge compared to what she'd had, but this was like watching it in a legitimate movie theater.

“Anyone want to hit the wine cellar?” Kyle asked the room at large.

“Yeah, stay,” Chloe said to Aubrey.

“Thanks, but I need to get home. I have to get up early for work. I have a short trial this week, plus I need to work on the zoning brief.” They'd talked about it briefly at the table while Liam and Kyle had been having their mysterious conversation. Aubrey thought she'd figured it out—they'd been talking about Whitney Parker, and that's why Liam had said something. He'd only spilled the beans because he'd had to. Kyle had likely found him out.

And that only made her angrier.

Sara exhaled. “That makes sense.”

Tori, who'd been sitting in front of them, stood and turned to join the conversation. “What makes sense?”

“Aubrey's passing on the wine cellar because she has to get up early to work on the zoning brief,” Sara explained.

“Yes she does!” Tori laughed. “No pressure.”

Aubrey shook her head with a smile. “None at all.”

“We should have a girls' night,” Chloe suggested, looking between them. “Maggie,” she called down to the other side of Sean.

Maggie stepped around Sean to stand beside Tori. “What's up?”

“We're planning a girls' night,” Chloe said. “Sometime this week?”

Aubrey crossed her arms. “I don't know. I have a lot going on at work.” She thought through her schedule. “Maybe Thursday?”

“I'm in,” Maggie said, smiling.

“Me, too,” Chloe said.

“Me, three,” Sara chimed.

Tori nodded. “Sounds great. This will be fun.” She grinned. “I've never seen you let your hair down, Aubrey. Do you even do that?”

“Sure.” It had been a while. Aubrey's closest girlfriends were from college, and they didn't live nearby. One was in Vancouver, Washington, and the others lived in the bay area. They tried to get together at least once a year, but two of them were married now and one of the two had a baby, so it had become more difficult to schedule things. Even so, she and her Vancouver pal did the Dave Matthews Band thing every Labor Day.

That made her think of last year and how she'd ditched her friend in order to go off with Liam. Felicia hadn't minded, but Aubrey had still apologized profusely. To which Felicia had scoffed. She'd said it was clear Aubrey was smitten and that she deserved it. She'd practically shoved Aubrey out of their tent at the campground. Aubrey had wondered if Felicia had been hooking up with someone of her own. Those weekends were pretty wild and crazy.

“I definitely let my hair down. You'd be surprised.”

Tori rubbed her hands together. “Oooh, sounds like a good story. I can't wait until Thursday.”

Chloe smiled slyly. “A drinking game might be in order.”

Everyone laughed.

“Too bad Alaina's still on her honeymoon,” Maggie said. “I bet her stories would be epic!”

Aubrey nodded. “I'm sure. Okay, I'm outta here. See you guys Thursday.” Chloe moved aside so she could get by.

On her way out of the theater, Aubrey made a point of thanking Emily and Rob for having her over.

“I'm just glad you finally used the back door,” Emily said, giving her a brief hug. “You're welcome anytime, dear.”

Aubrey thanked her again, then made her way upstairs. She was quite proud of herself for not looking for Liam. Then she nearly walked straight into him in the back hallway when she went to grab her jacket.

“There you are,” he said, his face inscrutable.

“What, were you waiting for me?” She grabbed her coat and pulled it on. “I'm leaving. Good night.”

She turned and left before he could stop her. But he just followed her.

“Yes, I was waiting for you. I don't believe that you don't care about me and Whitney. I really am sorry for how I told you.”

She threw him a glare over her shoulder as she stalked to her car. “I told you it doesn't matter.”

Before she could open the door, he pinned her against the car. Not with his body, but by standing close enough that she couldn't open the door without making physical contact with him. And that would be bad.

It had been drizzling earlier when she'd arrived, but it was dry now. It was also quite chilly. She zipped up her jacket and fished her keys from her pocket to unlock the door with the remote.

“It matters to me. I don't like thinking I've upset you.”

“Are you sure you just don't hate the fact that I dumped you?”

He cracked a smile. “Maybe.” He sobered almost instantly. “I wanted to ask you about what you said yesterday. You said I made it hard to say no. Were you . . . reluctant when we were together last year? If I forced you in any way or made you uncomfortable . . . ” He ran his hand through his thick hair, tousling the dark waves. “Jesus, Aubrey—”

As crazy as he made her, she hated that he'd gotten the wrong idea. In fact, she preferred to look back on their time together with fondness and wanted him to do the same. “You didn't. I wanted everything that happened. And if I were interested in Mr. Right Now instead of finding Mr. Right, I'd probably invite you back to my place.”

His eyes sparked, and her belly fired in response. “What's wrong with Mr. Right Now? I love living in the moment.”

She'd loved living in the moment, too—with him. She'd never been with a more intoxicating person. He made her feel beautiful and alive and special. He was so full of vitality and confidence that when he shined his light on you, it made everything brighter. When they'd spent Labor Day weekend together, he'd done all of these little things for her—making sure she was hydrated because it was hot, arranging for her to get a shower in his friend's RV, scoring her first-ever spot on the rail so that the band had been literally in her face. But she had to think he made all of his women feel that way. That's why he was so damned alluring.

“I love living in the moment, too, but I'd rather do it with someone who can give me a lifetime of moments.” A cold breeze rustled her hair and chilled her to the bone. She shivered.

He moved closer. “You're cold. Can I?” He started to put his arms around her.

She should say no. She should jump in her car and drive away as fast as she could. Instead, she just stood there, neither accepting nor declining his embrace.

He enfolded her in his arms. He wasn't wearing a coat, but he still felt warm. His chest was solid against hers as he rested his jaw alongside her hairline. “Why are you in such a hurry to find Mr. Right? We could have a good time.”

They could. And she'd be broken by the end of it because he could be everything she wanted, even if he didn't realize it yet. He was successful, smart, kind in the ways that mattered, and he loved his family. In fact, he was defined by his family. All of the Archers were. They were fiercely competitive, loyal, and above all loving. How could she not want to be a part of that? A part of him?

She kept her head down and stared at a panel on the garage door several feet away. “I'm not in a hurry, but while I'm having a good time with someone like you, Mr. Right could be right in front of me.”

“Like Stuart,” he said softly, his breath warm against her skin.

No, not like Stuart. She'd bet he wasn't Mr. Right. But then, neither was Liam. She tipped her head up, and their gazes connected. The night was cold, but she didn't feel it just then. All she felt was the heat of his stare and the need in her soul. A need he couldn't fulfill.

He pulled away. “I get it. Stuart's a lucky guy.”

No, Stuart was probably going to get his hopes dashed, but she didn't want to think about that right now.

“Good night, Liam.” She climbed into her car and drove away. Though she didn't look, she knew he watched her go.

L
IAM SPENT MOST
of Monday closeted in his bedroom, focused on his real-estate business in Denver. He owned several commercial buildings and was in the process of buying another. Unfortunately, they'd discovered a problem with the structure, and Liam was weighing whether to go through with it. With its prime location, the space could be a huge moneymaker in the future, but if the mold they'd found beneath the floorboards of the former gym was toxic, it would be a money pit. For now, he'd put the deal on hold while they awaited the findings on the mold.

On Tuesday, he decided it was past time to visit the Archer Enterprises headquarters, where Dad, Derek, Evan, and even Kyle worked. That Kyle had come home a year ago and taken over as COO still stumped Liam. He hadn't thought Kyle had it in him to not just do the job but commit to it. Granted, it was temporary, but Kyle had acquitted himself well, and though he'd once been the outsider, the black sheep, Liam began to realize that role was now his.

Maybe he wasn't a black sheep exactly, but he was definitely an outsider. It was a role he'd cultivated and been quite content with. But now that he was home, he felt the distance in a way he never had—it was more than just mileage, like when he was in Denver and everyone was here. He was here now, and he still sensed the separation. They were all engaged to be married, all a part of something—of the family—in ways that he wasn't.

He parked his bike at the building and marveled at what his father had built. Well, his father and his father's father and his grandfather's father on down to the founding father of Ribbon Ridge. They'd all been real-estate tycoons in their own right. All but Dad, who was far happier brewing beer. He'd kept up the real-estate side of the business after his younger brother had up and left town, but he hadn't really grown it like Liam would've done.

Liam carried his helmet into the building with him. He hadn't been here in years. Since before Alex had died. There it was again, measuring everything in befores and afters.

He shook his head as he climbed the staircase up to the second floor, where the executive offices were located. It was lunchtime, so he wasn't surprised to see that Dad's secretary wasn't at her desk. The other admin desk was occupied by a young man who was probably right out of college.

“Hi, is anyone around?” Liam asked.

The guy cocked his head to the side. “Besides me, you mean?”

Liam chuckled. “Yeah, besides you. Sorry, I'm Liam Archer.”

The kid's eyes widened, and he shot out of his chair. “Oh! Sorry, I didn't realize. I'm just a temp.”

Liam knew they'd lost Derek and Kyle's former assistant last summer, but he hadn't realized they hadn't hired a permanent replacement. He tried not to think of the entire situation, because it made his blood boil. The woman had sold Alex the drugs he'd used to commit suicide and was now serving time for drug dealing. Kyle had found her out. It was yet another way in which Kyle had more than redeemed himself, while Liam stayed away.

Maybe his anger should be directed at himself as much as anyone else. Sure, why not? He'd lived with guilt and a varying degree of self-loathing his entire life. Why stop now?

“It's fine,” Liam said. “I'm just going to wander around a bit.” He glanced toward his dad's closed office door and Kyle's closed office door. The next door, Derek's, was open. Liam walked over to it and looked inside. Empty.

He continued along the corridor, passing a long conference room with glass walls and a spectacular view over the valley. He had to admit he missed the way Ribbon Ridge looked. Colorado was beautiful and suited his lifestyle, but so did Oregon, which was equally, if not more, breathtaking.

He passed the conference room and came to another closed office door. The name beside it read Evan Archer, Chief Creative Officer. That had been Alex's job. Evan had secretly obtained it last fall while posing as an independent contracting firm. He hadn't wanted to apply as himself for fear the family wouldn't accept him as a creative professional. Plus, he hadn't wanted to usurp Alex's position.

Liam understood that fear, and an irrational part of him wished Evan hadn't usurped it. This was Alex's job, Alex's
place
. But hadn't Alex surrendered any claims when he'd killed himself?

He absolutely had.

The familiar anger roiled in Liam's belly. He opened the door and stepped inside. The only thing that was the same was the view. Could Liam blame Evan for changing the furniture? No. Just like he couldn't blame him for taking the job, for
wanting
the job. From everything he'd seen and heard, he was great at it. Better even than Alex had been. A sharp pain, like regret, cut through Liam's anger.

He moved inside and noted the tidy, organized desk. There was one picture of a smiling Evan and Alaina. They stood together at a winery up in the hills, with the panorama of the valley behind them. Liam felt a surge of joy and pride for Evan that he'd found happiness and connection. He'd found his place.

“Hey, Liam.” Dad's voice sliced into his thoughts, and Liam was grateful for the interruption. Being home had turned him into a maudlin son of a bitch. “Troy said you were here. What brings you by?”