You're Still the One (6 page)

He was followed by Liam, Evan, and two men Bex had met that morning at breakfast—Sean Hennessy, Tori's husband, and Dylan Westcott, Sara's fiancé. Hayden brought up the rear. All the men went to their significant others and greeted them with a kiss or a caress, or both. She and Hayden sat and stood there awkwardly. Or maybe the awkward was all her.

“You need wineglasses.” Hayden turned back and went into the kitchen. Sean went with him, and a moment later they returned with stemware.

Liam shook his head. “Oh, we're going to need more than that. Come on, Derek.” He and Derek left, presumably to fetch more of everything.

Evan stood next to Alaina's chair and massaged her shoulders. “Can I get you anything?”

She pointed to the table. “I've got my water bottle.”

He smiled down at her. “Never without it.”

They were a striking couple, and obviously very in love. They all were. It made Bex feel . . . lonely.

Crap, what had she done agreeing to move to Ribbon Ridge? She'd expected a little weirdness, but not this total assault of nostalgia. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was regret.

Would she do things differently now? She wasn't sure.

She'd already wanted to leave Ribbon Ridge before she'd even learned she was pregnant. Then she'd felt trapped, her future completely decided for her. When she'd miscarried, that weight had been lifted. Suddenly the dreams she'd had—of running her own brewery and spreading her wings—had become possible again, and she hadn't been able to get out fast enough. She'd felt like she'd dodged a bullet, but now she had to wonder if she hadn't lost something else entirely.

Sara stood next to Dylan, who had his arm around her waist and had pulled her tight against him so he could kiss her temple. “If you guys are going to hang out, you have to help,” she said.

Dylan loosened his hold on her. “Put us to work.”

She did just that and when Liam and Derek returned, they had double the hands completing the tasks.

Hayden stood near the doorway as all the other men went to help their significant others. His choices were to help Bex or his mother tie bows. Bex sensed his uncertainty. He likely knew his mother didn't need help—or more accurately that Sara wouldn't allow him to help her. Which meant he could help Bex, and she didn't think he wanted to do that, so she rescued him by saying, “Hayden, you could help Sara and Dylan with the basket assembly.”

“Good idea.”

Bex stood, intent on grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen. She passed Hayden on her way and got a whiff of his shower gel for her trouble. She closed her eyes briefly, recalling the scent of Hayden. That smell aroused so many memories, so much joy.

She swallowed and reminded herself they were as dead as disco. Why then, did she feel like a junior high kid with her first crush? Because she'd either never gotten over Hayden Archer or her feelings had been rekindled in a huge way. Whatever the reason, she was completely screwed.

M
ONDAY NIGHT
H
AYDEN
walked into the arctic interior of The Arch and Vine in downtown Ribbon Ridge. His internal clock was still a bit off from the time change, but he'd gotten over his jet lag. With every day at home, he felt a little more connected and a little less sure about his decision to take the job in France. Maybe that was why he hadn't yet notified Antoine.

Coming here wasn't helping that cause either. His family's flagship pub was like a second home. It was cozy and comfortable, welcoming like an old friend. Especially when there was an actual old friend behind the bar.

George Wilson, the bartender and an old friend of their father's, came out from behind the bar situated in the center of the pub. “Hayden Archer, I heard you were home. Took you long enough to come see me.” He grinned, and his eyes, framed by a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, lit up like a Christmas tree.

Hayden gave him a bear hug. “Good to see you, George. I've been busy acclimating. And sleeping.” He'd gone to bed early Saturday night and had pretty much slept straight through yesterday, with the exception of the family dinner.

They stepped apart, and George sized him up. “I'm sorry to say it looks like France agrees with you.” He frowned. “I hope that doesn't mean you're staying there.”

Hayden chuckled. George had never made a secret of his desire for every Archer kid to stay in Ribbon Ridge. He'd understood why Hayden had left, but he'd also made it clear he expected Hayden to come right back home when he was finished with his internship.

“Not forever, but yes, I'm taking a job as assistant winemaker.” Hayden winced at the disappointment in the lines on George's face. “Don't look at me like that!”

George scowled. “You darn kids. Makes me glad I never had my own.” He shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile haunting his mouth as he went back to the bar. “You want the usual or have you given up beer entirely now that you're Mr. Wine Guy?”

Hayden slid onto a stool. “That's one of the things I missed most when I was over there—the beer just isn't as good.”

“Ha!” George pulled him a pint of Crossbow, an unfiltered wheat beer that was one of their primary brews and Hayden's favorite. He slid the glass across the counter. “Maybe you should rethink that job.”

Hayden took a drink and closed his eyes in rapt appreciation. Maybe he should. But he supposed he was since he hadn't actually committed yet.

George leaned against the bar and studied him. “What's France got that we don't?”

After one more sip, Hayden set his glass down. “A world-class winery where I'll be the assistant winemaker.”

George waved his hand as if Hayden had just told him France had something as mundane as daylight. “We've got world-class wineries.”

True, but Hayden didn't work for any of them. Winemaker jobs were hard to come by, especially for someone like him. His internship was a good resume builder, but he had a long way to go to compete with the winemakers in the Willamette Valley.

“I have a great house with a garden and an amazing view of vineyards.” He rented a 150-year-old two-story stone cottage that looked like it was straight out of a travel show. What it lacked in a few modern conveniences—a rather small fridge, no dishwasher, and the bathroom off his bedroom was a closet—it more than made up for in charm and ambience. He was living the rustic French lifestyle and loving it.

George looked unimpressed. “You have a house here, and the vineyards are close by.”

He
did
have a house here. The house he'd bought after college and lived in with Bex until she'd left him. Upon leaving that house himself, he'd realized it had been part of the reason he'd been unable to get over her. It reminded him of her, of them, of the plans they'd made and the future they'd lost. He planned to ask Kyle if he wanted to buy it from him since he and Maggie seemed to really love it.

Hayden took another drink of beer. “There's a girl in France. That's a good enough reason to go back, right? Even for you.”

George folded his arms over his chest. “Ah. Got a picture?”

Hayden pulled his phone from his pocket and found a photo of Gabrielle. She smiled in the photo, her dark eyes sparkling against the cloudy spring sky, her feet in rain boots because they'd been trudging around the vineyard surveying the bud break.

Hayden handed the phone to George. “This is Gabrielle. Her father owns the winery where I work.”

George looked at the picture then gave the phone back to Hayden. “Pretty. Can you communicate very well? I don't remember you being fluent in French.”

Hayden laughed. “She speaks great English, actually, but I've become quite conversant. It's hard not to when you live there and hear the language all day long.” In fact, it had been a bit of an adjustment coming back to English twenty-four/seven. He realized he'd started thinking in French.

“She could always move here,” George said.

Hayden shook his head. She'd never move away from her family winery, not when she was poised to inherit. And anyway, they were
nowhere
near that serious. They hung out, they occasionally had sex. It was extremely casual. Perfect for the lifestyle he wanted right now. “She's locked into her family business.”

George gave him a pointed look. “So were you.”

One of the servers, a young woman Hayden didn't recognize, which felt weird, came up to the other side of the bar. “George, can you pull a pitcher of Longbow and a pitcher of Shaft?”

“You got it, Kelsey.” George nodded toward the door behind Hayden. “Looks like your buddies are here.” He waved toward them before going back to work.

“See you later, George,” Hayden said, turning on the stool to see his man-dates for this evening: Cameron and his two younger brothers, Luke and Jamie.

Cam came forward, grinning, his familiar green eyes glinting with humor. “Well if it isn't my favorite Frog.”

Hayden turned to Luke and Jamie. “Glad you guys could join us.”

Luke, the middle brother and two years younger than Cam and Hayden's twenty-eight, rubbed his hand against his stubbled cheek. “Hey, I'm free every night this week. I haven't been home for so long since I moved to Cali, and our mother is beside herself.” He lowered his voice. “She's driving me nuts.”

Hayden chuckled, feeling his pain since his own mother was simultaneously thrilled to have him home and upset that it was only temporary. “I'm sure she's even more excited to see Jamie since he lives even farther away.”

Jamie had been busy earning two master's degrees from the London School of Economics over the past two years. He and Hayden had finally managed to get together for a long weekend in Paris this past spring.

“Don't you know it,” Jamie said. “So yeah, Luke and I are more than happy to go out every night this week. We could even spend a night in Portland—maybe relive some of the fun of our Paris trip.” He winked at Hayden.

Hayden laughed. “That was an epic trip.” Two guys, Paris, good food, good drink, and a night at a dance club that Hayden could barely remember.

Cam glared at them both, but it was clearly meant in jest. “You guys are pissing me off. Next time, I'm flying over. Come on, let's grab a booth.” Cam led them to the corner with their favorite table.

Hayden slid onto the seat next to Cam. They were barely situated when the server, Kelsey, came to the table and tossed four coasters onto the wood. “Welcome, guys. George tells me you're regulars, and you”—she looked at Hayden—“are an Archer.”

“That's right,” Hayden said. “And these jokers are soon to be Archers-by-marriage.”

Cam laughed. “Sort of.” He looked at Kelsey. “Our half-brother is marrying Hayden's sister this weekend.”

“Right, that's the big wedding that half the staff are going to.”

Cam looked at Hayden in mock distress. “What, you didn't invite the
entire
staff and shut the place down?”

Hayden held up his hands. “Don't look at me. I have nothing to do with it. I don't even live here anymore. Besides, there's no way we'd close the pub on a Saturday and lose all that wine-tasting traffic, let alone the people going to and from the beach.” Ribbon Ridge was a popular destination, or stop-in point, for weekend travelers from Portland and beyond.

Kelsey laughed as she tucked a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear. “It's fine. I'm new to town, and I don't know very many people. It wouldn't make sense for me to come to your sister's wedding.”

Hayden arched a brow at Cam and gave him a look that said,
see?

Cam exhaled. “All right, but is it my fault if I'd like to include an attractive young woman on the guest list?” He winked at Kelsey, who only chuckled.

“Aren't you the smooth talker? I've seen you in here a couple times,” she said. “Now I know to steer clear.”

Everyone but Cam laughed. “Ouch,” Luke said. He looked at Kelsey. “Don't judge us by our brother's obnoxiousness. He's never met a pretty face he hasn't flirted with.”

Cam rolled his eyes. “You guys are totally ruining this for me.”

“Don't sweat it,” Kelsey said. “I've got a boyfriend anyway. Sorry. You guys want some beer, or do you need a minute?”

Luke picked up his coaster and ran his thumb along the edge. “Pitchers of Crossbow and Longbow.”

“And nachos,” Jamie said. “I've missed them so much. You just can't get decent nachos in England.”

Hayden nodded. “Or France. Onion rings too, since Walla Wallas are in season. God, I missed those last summer.”

“You got it.” Kelsey turned from the table, leaving them alone.

Hayden sat forward and set his elbows on the table like his mother had always told him not to. “Luke, what's new in Napa? I'm sure it was tough to get away this week.”

Luke was the vineyard manager at a midsize winery. He'd worked his way up since graduating from UC Davis four years ago. “Yep, but I've got a good crew. I fly back Sunday night. How's France? I was sorry I couldn't make it out after harvest last fall. Maybe this year. Assuming you're going back.”

Hayden shot Cam a grateful look since he'd clearly kept his mouth shut. “Yeah, I'll head back next month. As assistant winemaker.”

Luke grinned. “Congrats.”

“Good for you,” Jamie said. “I'm mulling what to do next. Might head back to England. I've got a couple job offers.”

Kelsey returned with their pitchers and three pint glasses. She looked at Hayden. “I didn't bring you a new glass. Do you want a fresh one?”

“No, I'm good, thanks.”

She left with a nod, and they served themselves.

Hayden topped off his pint. “With Jamie in England, I'll have family on that side of the world—we can keep each other company.” He raised his glass toward Jamie.

Jamie responded in kind, and they drank.

“That blows,” Cam said morosely. “I mean, I'm happy for you, but it sucks when your best friend and your brothers live so far away.”

Jamie set his glass down on his coaster. “It's kind of funny, if you look around the table, we could pretty much start a winery tomorrow. If we had, you know, grapes.”

“Yeah, those are kind of important,” Luke said wryly before taking a drink of beer.

Hayden looked around. Luke would be the vineyard manager, obviously, Cam would be in charge of sales, and clearly Hayden would make the wine. “What would you do, Jamie?”

Luke laughed. “Anything he damn well pleases! He's smarter than the three of us put together.”

Not quite, but Hayden knew what he meant. Jamie was Mensa-level genius.

“I wouldn't just want to do sales,” Cameron said, sounding far more serious than normal. “It's kind of interesting you brought this up, Jamie. I've been getting tired of sales.”

“What, you want to run the business?” Luke asked.

Cameron shrugged. “Maybe. I just wish I didn't hate accounting so much.”

“I can do that,” Jamie said. “I love numbers. And wine.” He grinned as he lifted his glass. “
And
beer.”

Kelsey returned with the food, and they all dug in. It was quiet, and Hayden wondered if they were seriously pondering this idea. They needed more than just grapes; they needed a vineyard for Luke to oversee. And starting a vineyard from scratch would mean at least five years before a worthwhile vintage. Five years of investment with zero return. Hayden had a trust fund, and he'd have income from The Alex at some point, but the other three didn't. He doubted they could afford that scenario.

Luke swiped a napkin over his mouth and took a swig of beer. “We'd need a vineyard.”

“I was just thinking that,” Cam said, answering Hayden's question as to whether they'd all been mulling this venture. “And there's actually a vineyard or two in the area to be had.”

“Are they decent, though?” Luke asked.

Cam plucked another onion ring from the basket. “Probably decent enough.”

Jamie looked around at all of them. “Wait, are we actually serious about this?”

Luke blew out a breath. “I'm stuck where I am. I can't leave them in the middle of summer.”

“Well, it's not like we'd find a working vineyard we could take over in midsummer either. But after harvest . . . ” Cam shrugged. “Just something to think about, I guess.” He looked over at Hayden. “Or not, actually. We wouldn't have a winemaker for at least two years.”

Hayden suddenly felt like a buzzkill, which was stupid. They were just shooting shit. They weren't
really
serious. Even so, he had to admit that working with Luke would be a hell of a good time. He was great at vineyard management. “Would you consider coming back to Ribbon Ridge?”