You're Still the One (16 page)

“I, uh, it sounds like it was different than yours.” His eye contact was always sketchy, but right now, he wasn't even looking in their vicinity. “He started a book and asked me to finish it.”

“What?” This question was asked by several people, including Hayden. That was something else he hadn't known. That Alex had shared these things with his other siblings but not him burned.

Liam looked astounded. “He wrote a book? I had no idea.”

Okay, so Alex hadn't told everyone everything. He'd been really good at keeping secrets, apparently. But hadn't his shocking suicide illustrated that?

“What's it about?” Kyle asked, rapt.

“Two brothers. It's . . . complicated.” Evan fidgeted with his pocket.

Hayden threw him a lifeline. “Tell us some other time, when we aren't all half-drunk.”

“Did you finish it?” Dylan asked.

“Uh, yeah.” He shrugged. “I'm trying to figure out what to do with it.”

Kyle shook his head again. “Damn, Alex certainly pulled the wool over all of our eyes, didn't he?” He looked over at Hayden. “What about your letter?”

Hayden froze like a deer in a pair of headlights. “Pretty basic. ‘Sorry I killed myself. I love you. Et cetera.' ” Or so Hayden imagined. He'd never actually opened it. He'd been too pissed. Aubrey had given it to him a couple of days after she'd shared Alex's trust with them. She'd only said that Alex had asked her to give it to him away from anyone else, so that he could open it alone.

Hayden had promptly stuffed it in the glove compartment of his car and forgotten about it.

Not completely, of course. He'd thought about it from time to time, but since it had been here in Oregon and he'd been in France, he'd put it out of his mind again. And again.

Now he wanted to read it. He wanted to feel that familiar anger.
Why did you abandon me when I stuck by you?

Kyle poured a shot of tequila and tossed it back. “Sucks that he's gone.”

Liam pressed his lips together. “Yes, it does.”

Sean let out a low whistle. “Wow, you blokes sure know how to piss all over a good time. Next time you invite me for pool, I think I'll watch
Titanic
instead. Far more cheerful.”

Everyone stared at him for a minute, and then laughter erupted. Even Hayden cracked a smile, despite the emotion swirling inside him.

Dylan rubbed his hands together. “All right, whose turn was it?”

“It was mine,” Sean said. “But I actually scratched so it's someone else's go.”

Liam took his turn next, and the mood turned more jovial. The drinking continued and after a while, they simply couldn't play anymore. Hayden had actually stopped drinking a bit ago, but he was pleasantly shitfaced. Not so far gone, however, that he didn't remember Alex's letter and the fact that it was in his car, which was parked outside and wouldn't be as soon as the girls got home and poured their respective guys into their vehicles to drive them home.

Hayden stood from the couch where he'd collapsed a little earlier. “Unlike you losers, I can stagger up to bed. Do yourselves a favor and don't drink anymore.”

Kyle saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Evan waved a hand from the corner where he'd retreated close to an hour ago. He was undoubtedly the most sober of all of them. “Night, Hay.”

Everyone else shouted “Good night” or “Sleep tight,” and he thought he even heard “Don't let the bedbugs bite.”

He made his way upstairs and stole outside. His Honda Pilot, which he'd let Kyle continue driving since he thought he was going back to France, was parked near the closest garage, and it was unlocked. He opened the passenger door and popped the glove compartment. After a minute of fishing through random crap, he found the envelope with his name on it. Alex's handwriting stared up at him, and Hayden glared back.

He folded it and stuffed it into his pocket, intending to tell anyone he encountered that he'd stepped outside for fresh air on his way up to bed.

But he didn't meet anyone. Once he was in his room, he closed the door and flopped onto his bed, his head crashing into the pillows. He really ought to drink some water unless he wanted a bitch of a hangover tomorrow. He pulled the envelope from his pocket and tossed it aside then got up and went to his bathroom to drink three glasses of water in quick succession.

When he retreated into his room, his gaze fell on the envelope. It was facedown, so that the seal seemed to call to him, “Break me.”

He snorted and picked it up. Sliding his finger into the corner, he tore it open and pulled out the single sheet.

Dear Hayden,

I suck. I know how much you gave up for me. Who you gave up. And I'm sorry. You should've left when Bex asked you to. You guys belonged together, and I selfishly kept you to myself. What a dick, right?

I don't know if you're mad at me or not. You've got the kindest heart of any of us. I swear you have every decent gene from Mom and Dad. I know I didn't get any of them.

I hope you'll chase your dreams now that I'm not here to hold you back. I imagine you will be the best, most celebrated winemaker in the entire Willamette Valley, maybe even the country. If anyone can do it, it's you.

I wish I'd told you what I was planning. I wanted to. Of everyone, I wanted to tell you. You deserved my honesty. But I'd already burdened you enough.

You have my utmost admiration and appreciation. You are the grit among us, the glue that keeps us all together. That may not seem rewarding or satisfying, but it's necessary. This family needs you, and I know you'll always be there.

All my love,

Alex

Well, wasn't that fucking fabulous? Even in death, Alex was making him feel like he was some sort of guardian angel, or worse, an insurance agent. That without him, things would go to shit.

But they hadn't. Hayden had left, and everyone had managed just fine. Swimmingly in fact.

Screw you, Alex.

He crumpled the letter and threw it to the floor before falling back onto the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, his insides roiling with emotion. He wished he hadn't known about Kyle's letter or Evan's book or Liam's video. It all made him feel so secondary. Sure, he was needed—wasn't that what he wanted?

Maybe it wasn't. Hell, he didn't know what he wanted.

He wanted this winery, but tonight he'd remembered what it was like to be the guy who didn't quite fit in. And now he felt that more keenly than ever. He was single, unattached to any of the Archer businesses, and he didn't even have a place to live in Ribbon Ridge that he could call his own.

The house was quiet. At least from up here. His parents were on the other side of the house on the main floor, and the guys—if they were still here—were two floors below him.

Then he heard voices and the door to the outside opening and cars starting. The girls must've come back, which he'd somehow missed, and now everyone was taking off.

That meant Bex was back. Down the hall. He listened but heard nothing. Silence returned. Minutes passed. Then he heard it. Muffled footsteps followed by the slight creak of her door.

Before he thought better of it, he bolted from his bed and strode to her room.

He didn't bother knocking, just went inside and closed the door behind him. He paused, watching her as she turned in surprise.

She'd tossed her purse on the dresser and her hands were on the hem of her shirt, like she'd been about to take it off.

He thought of her without her shirt, a view he'd seen and appreciated many times. But he hadn't come here for that. Had he?

Why had he come?

“Hayden.” Her brow was furrowed, her green eyes luminous, like pale jade. “What's wrong?”

Did he look like something was wrong? “I just read my letter from Alex.”

Shit, where had that come from? He hadn't meant to say that.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.” He started to turn, but her hand on his wrist stopped him.

“Don't go. I want to listen. What letter from Alex?”

Her touch seared through him, aroused him in ways he'd thought long buried. “Forget I mentioned it.”

Her tone was soft, pleading. “Hayden, let me help you. Please.”

He pivoted back around, and she dropped her hand from his wrist. “Alex wrote us all letters, or in Liam's case recorded a video, which Aubrey had to deliver to all of us at various, predetermined times based on his wishes. I got my letter pretty much immediately, but I didn't read it until tonight. Want to know what it said?”

She was utterly calm in the face of more emotion than he'd shown in years. Maybe forever. “Yes.”

“That I should've gone with you. That you and I belong together. That he was a selfish dick for manipulating me to stay.” He hadn't used those words precisely, but that's what he'd done with all of the little comments about how helpful Hayden was and what a great brother and son he was to stay in Ribbon Ridge working at Archer. Hayden had felt needed and wanted, but now he just felt handled.

She lifted her hand to her mouth. Her eyes were wide. “I . . . I don't know what to say.”

Hayden knew he was still tipsy, but he didn't care. Now that he'd let loose, he couldn't seem to stop it. “Then don't say anything.” He took two steps toward her and slid one hand around her waist and the other along her neck. Then he kissed her, his lips gravitating to hers like a leaf falling to the ground. Soft, gentle, a whisper.

His mouth moved over hers, so familiar and yet different. He stroked the soft underside of her jaw and pressed his fingers into her waist. It was the Bex he remembered and a woman he'd just met all in one. He was mesmerized.

Her hands splayed against his chest, and for a moment he thought she meant to push him away. But she dug her fingertips into his shirt and pulled him into her. He parted his lips at the exact moment she parted hers. Their tongues met, and fireworks exploded.

She moaned softly as she twined her arms around his neck, tugging him down so she could deepen the kiss.

He hadn't meant for this to happen, but he wanted it. He wanted her.

Palming the back of her head, he swept his tongue into her mouth, licking and tasting, devouring. And she kissed him back, her body arching up into his, her breasts pressing deliciously against his chest.

His thoughts from earlier assaulted him. He dragged his mouth from hers and kissed along her jaw, moving to nibble her ear. Then he tipped her head to the side to give him access to her neck. Just as soft and sensitive as he remembered. She shivered when he tongued her flesh.

He slid his hand up under the hem of her shirt and squeezed her side, careful to use firm pressure so as not to tickle her. He remembered so many things about her, but wanted to discover new ones.

“Hayden.” She gently pushed at his shoulders.

It took him a moment, but he pulled back. “What?”

“You've been drinking.”

“So?”

She looked at him intently. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Absolutely. I'm not that drunk. Not so far gone to have regrets.” He splayed his fingers beneath her shirt, feeling her heat. “Right now, you're the only thing I know, without hesitation, that I want. That I
need
.”

“We shouldn't . . . ”

“Why not? We're grown-ups. I want you. You want me.” But maybe she didn't. Maybe she was trying to politely end this. “You
don't
want me.”

She closed her eyes briefly then her hands were around his neck again, and she was on her toes. “I want you so bad. Right
now
. Right
here
.”

He stared into her eyes and let himself be lost. “Then I'm yours.”

B
EX KNEW THIS
was a bad idea. He was drunk. Emotional. Upset. And she was totally taking advantage. Except she'd tried to tell him they shouldn't. Maybe she should try harder.

Oh, but his lips on hers were so heavenly, the feel of his warm neck beneath her fingertips divine, the scent of him exhilarating—pure Hayden—a smell she hadn't realized how deeply she'd missed until now. She never wanted this moment to end. And yet, she had to make it stop.

She pushed at his shoulders gently, but firmly.

He looked down at her, the stark desire in his gaze robbing her of thought. “What's wrong?”

Yeah, what the hell was wrong? With
her
? She mentally shook herself. “You've been drinking. I know you said you aren't that drunk—”

“I'm not really drunk at all, actually. I stopped drinking over an hour ago, and I had a ton of water. You know me. You can tell when I'm shitfaced.” His mouth ticked up into an almost-smile, and her knees turned to mush.

“That's true,” she murmured. He wasn't shitfaced. And like he'd said, they wanted each other. They were consenting adults.

He stroked his hand along her spine, from her nape to the small of her back. Then he caressed her there, his fingertips grazing the top of her backside. Every touch brought her further under the spell of the moment. “Don't you want to know if it's as good as it used to be?”

She practically melted against him. She'd thought of that very question so many times over the past two weeks. And she absolutely wanted an answer.

“Yes.”

His mouth was on hers before she finished enunciating the
S
. She was transported back in time to when she'd felt happy and loved. He felt like . . . home.

He pulled away, and she just knew this had been too good to be true. He couldn't really want her. Not after all this time and everything they'd been through.

He frowned at her. Her chest tightened. She resigned herself—

“I can't do this,” he said.

She stepped back from him, but he didn't let her go. His hands were still wrapped around her waist.

“No,” he said. “I can't do this
here
. In my sister's room.” He stuck his tongue out as if he'd had to eat fried liver. “Come on.” He took her by the hand and led her from the room. They walked down the hallway, and she knew where they were going.

The wistfulness she'd felt intensified the minute she stepped into his bedroom. Everything about it was the same—the bed, the dresser where she'd kept a few items of clothing stashed, the desk, the poster from the beer and wine festival they'd attended. Memories, good and bad, assailed her. But mostly, she just wanted him to touch her again, to take her back to what she realized now had been the best time of her life.

So far.

He'd opened the door for her and now came in behind her. She heard the door close then felt the whisper of his breath against her neck as he pushed her hair aside. “Been a long time since you were in here, Sexy Bexy.”

He hadn't called her that in forever, of course. It had started out as a flirtation when they'd first dated. Later, after they'd been together awhile, he'd called her that only in bed, and never more than once. She'd later come to realize it had been his shorthand for saying “I love you” before they'd both worked up the courage to actually utter the words.

She closed her eyes and forgot about time and place for a moment. She focused on the heat of his body pressed against her back, the soft press of his lips on her exposed flesh. A shiver tickled her spine and her breath caught. His tongue, hot and wet, traced her nape.

“Just like I remember,” he whispered.

His hand snaked around her waist and held her tight against him while his other hand came up and cupped the underside of her breast. He went slow, his touch gentle, seeking. She kept her hands at her sides though she longed to touch him. For now, she would let him explore, allow her body to respond.

He closed over her breast, bringing his thumb and forefinger together at the tip. It wasn't enough. There were too many clothes separating them. She pulled up the hem of her T-shirt, but he stilled her hands with his own.

“Let me.” His words caressed her flesh just before he kissed her neck. It was hot and wet and sent shocks of pleasure straight to her core. She stifled a moan as his hands pushed her shirt up over her breasts.

She expected him to pull it over her head, but he left it scrunched up, her bra exposed. He slipped his hands inside her bra and pushed the cups down, freeing her breasts. But not quite. They were sort of trapped there between the garments.

“I always loved your breasts. So soft. Just the perfect size for me.” He caressed her with both hands, rhythmic strokes that set her hips to moving. He pulled at her flesh then used his thumb and forefinger again. But this time was so much better and she couldn't keep the moan from escaping. “Your nipples are a shade darker. A dusky rose instead of that pink I remember. Do they taste the same, I wonder?”

“You'll have to find out.” Her answer came out breathy and needy, and she couldn't have cared less.

He chuckled softly. “Now, that's a dare if ever I've heard one. But then you always were a daredevil. Like the time you broke into one of the offices on campus—I can't remember which one—so we could make out.”

She recalled that night vividly. “I think we did a little more than make out.”

“Like tonight? Or is this going to stop before it even gets started?”

She pushed back and felt his erection against her ass. “You're being a real tease, you know that?”

“You like it when I tease you. At least you used to. Maybe you've changed. Maybe you'd rather I throw you on the bed and screw you senseless.”

Yes, please.

Pathetic as it sounded, she'd take him any way she could. “We've done that, too.” Her voice was thread-thin.

His hands continued their torture, caress, pull, soft pinch. “Which do you prefer? Slow and seductive or hard and fast?” Then a hard pinch.

She gasped. “Both?”

He walked her to the bed, his body gently pushing her from behind. He tapped her back so that she bent down, her breasts swaying. “We could do it like this.” He ran his hand over her backside before slipping it between her legs. His touch grazed over her, neither firm nor light, but enough to make her already quivering body scream for more.

She parted her legs in silent invitation.

“Mmm, yes. But I think I'd rather see your face.” He tugged on her shoulder until she was upright once more then turned her around. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted.

She couldn't stand it another second. She put her hands on his chest and fisted his shirt. “I don't care what you do, so long as you do it
now
.”

She cupped his face and kissed him hard, her lips grinding against his just before they each sought the other's tongue. Giddiness cartwheeled through her. She'd never imagined she'd feel this way again, that she'd be in his arms. And until last week, she hadn't realized she'd wanted it. Missed it.

He gripped her hips and rocked against her, his pelvis meeting hers. She clutched at his neck as her joy catapulted into desperation. At last, he pulled her shirt over her head, breaking their kiss briefly. Then he made short work of her bra, tossing it from her body with effortless care. It was like they'd done this before. But of course they had.

She'd kicked her sandals off back in Tori's room, so she had on only her skort and panties, whereas he was wearing everything. Except shoes. She tunneled her hands under his shirt, her fingertips skimming over the muscles of his back. He definitely felt bulkier—just as he looked. She couldn't wait to see what he looked like shirtless.

With a quick tug, she pulled his shirt over his head, baring his chest. But before she could survey her prize, he held her arms up and lowered his mouth to her breast. He covered her with wet heat, drawing a long moan from her throat.

He let go of her arms. “Tastes just like I remember.”

She dropped his shirt and thrust her fingers into his hair, urging his mouth to take her harder and deeper. He licked at her and devoured her flesh, his hands cupping her.

She realized she'd started repeating his name over and over and stopped before she sounded like she was completely losing her mind. Which she totally was.

He moved one hand down her abdomen, his fingers skidding over her flesh and then finding the heat buried between her legs, beneath her skirt. He fondled her through her clothing, pressing on her clit until she cried out his name. She gripped his head even tighter.

He kissed his way down her stomach as he pulled at the waistband of her skort. With a rough yank, he pulled the garment down her legs then did the same with her panties.

He clasped her hips and knelt, licking a path toward her core. “God, I just want to—”

He pushed her back onto the bed—not hard, but she was startled. She'd thought he meant to do something else.

She looked up at him as he shucked the rest of his clothing. Yep, his chest and abs were more defined than they'd been five years ago. A sparse trail of light brown hair led her vision south to his cock.
That
hadn't changed. She was suddenly overcome with a need so strong, she started to shake. Had he felt the same? Had that been why he'd changed course?

“I can't wait. I've waited long enough.”

His words bored a hole into her heart. She wanted to ease the pain she'd caused him. “I don't want to wait another second.”

He grinned down at her. “I'm afraid we have to. I need to get a condom.” He turned and went into the bathroom.

Ah yes, that would be good. They'd gone without before . . . she didn't want to think about that right now. There'd be time for reflection and analysis later. Now, she wanted to live in this glorious moment.

When he returned, he was sheathed and ready. He knelt between her legs on the bed. They locked eyes as he clasped her thighs and kneaded her flesh. He spread her legs a little wider. “If memory serves, you like it when I touch you here.” He softly stroked her outer folds. “But even more here.” He thumbed her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her. “But most of all, you liked it when I touched you here.” He slid his finger inside her. She was slick and he went in easy. He pumped once, twice, and then pierced deep, curving his finger until he found her G-spot. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Wait, I forgot about this spot.”

He put his mouth on her breast again, suckling her while he fucked her with his hand. With two fingers, he stroked her hard and fast. She brought her legs up, bending her knees. Her hips rotated and lifted off the bed. Then his mouth found her clit and he sent her over the edge.

Her orgasm obliterated everything but the feel of his hand and mouth and the sound of her cries. She was blissfully broken, and she didn't think she ever wanted to be put back together again.

Except he did—put her back together again. He brought her back to reality with gentle licks and soft strokes.

“Hayden.” His name tore from her mouth like a plea. She pulled at his hair, urging him to move up. Then she kissed him, openmouthed and hungry. His tongue speared into her as he framed her face with his hands.

His hips ground into hers, and she rose up to meet him. She reached between them and found his stiff cock. The condom jolted her for a moment, and she briefly entertained the idea of taking it off and sucking him bare. She wanted to, but it would have to wait for another time. Would there be another time?

She closed her hand around him and stroked him from base to tip.

“Bex.” He practically groaned her name into her mouth. “I
really
can't wait anymore now.”

She guided him to her entrance. His fingers met hers as he opened her then pushed inside. He moved slowly, filling her—not just physically, but emotionally. She'd had no idea how much she'd missed him.

Once he was settled inside, he gazed down at her. “I forgot how well we fit together.”

She clasped his waist and his ass. “So did I.”

“Let's see how well we move.” He slid out and then in, slowly, methodically at first, and then gaining momentum. She locked her feet behind the small of his back.

“Oh, I remember
that
,” he said between gritted teeth. He pumped faster, driving into her. She dug her nails into his ass. “And that. God,
that
.”

He twined one hand in her hair, pulling gently as he kissed her deeply. His flesh pounded into hers, the delicious friction feeding another orgasm. Her senses exploded, but she didn't want to fly away. Not quite yet.

She reached between their bodies and found his balls, massaging them and then closing her thumb and forefinger around the base of his shaft. She squeezed—not too tight, but just enough to elicit a low moan from deep in his chest.

“Bex!” He battered into her, crying out as he came.

She let go then, and another orgasm engulfed her body. She'd always enjoyed sex with him, but this was something different. Maybe it was because she was older, more experienced, but she felt every sensation in her bones, along her nerves, within her heart.

She was in such trouble.

When their bodies had stilled and their breathing slowed, he kissed her temple before leaving her. After a quick trip into the bathroom, he came back and pulled the covers back. “You can stay, if you want.”

She did want.

She rolled to where he'd exposed the sheets then tucked herself under them, scooting back over. She patted the mattress that they'd shared so many times before.

He climbed in beside her and it was like no time had passed at all. She curled onto her side away from him, and he spooned her from behind. His hand came possessively around her waist. She smiled.