You're Still the One (9 page)

When it was full, he looked around. “Garbage?”

She nodded toward the corner. “Over there.”

He went and brought the can over for her to dump the dustpan. Then he grabbed the broom and swept more into the pan. They did this several times until the floor was clean.

He scooted the garbage can back to the corner. “So I guess you have to start over?”

She hung up the broom and dustpan. “Just that part, so while it's a loss of ingredients, it's fixable. Not like if you lost a bunch of grapes.”

“Yeah, that would be catastrophic. Or not. If the wine turned out to be really good and the quantity was lower, we could just charge more.”

She smiled over at him. “Good point.”

“You want help with this?” he asked, looking around the brewery.

She cocked her head to the side. “I don't know. A winemaker in a brewery?”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many batches of beer I've brewed? My siblings and I were home brewing our own stuff at fifteen.”

She'd known that of course. “I always wondered why none of you wanted to take over for your dad.”

“For a while, we thought Liam might, but he was bored with it by the time we were out of high school. He likes negotiating too much. He probably should've been a lawyer. Except I think he makes more money from real estate.”

“And now he's marrying a lawyer, so he can still armchair quarterback.”

“Ha! Somehow, I doubt Aubrey will put up with that. It's one thing for him to provide input when we were fighting the zoning appeal, but I think she'd probably give him the smackdown any other time.”

Bex laughed. “The fact that any woman can give Liam the smackdown is awesome.”

“Right? When Kyle turned out to be such a good cook, Dad asked if he wanted to brew instead of go to culinary school. Kyle said he'd think about it while he started classes, but I'm pretty sure the chef bug bit him hard and fast. Beer didn't stand a chance.”

Bex shook her head. “Your poor dad.”

His eyes glinted with humor. “Why do you think he was so excited when we were dating? You were his only hope.”

She laughed but then felt a pang of that nasty emotion again—regret.

“Sorry, I didn't say that to make you feel bad.”

“I know you didn't. It's fine.” She went over to the stack of barley-filled bags. “You really want to help?”

He followed her. “I offered, didn't I?”

Yes, and in her experience, he was a man of his word. “I had trouble carrying this bag over to the hopper.”

He picked the top one off the pile and hefted it. “Too heavy?”

“Too awkward.”

He carried it over to the mill on the mash tun, where she opened the corner of the bag, and he poured it in. “What are you going to do when I'm not around?”

Feel bereft? Be eaten alive with regret? She was beginning to hate that word and decided to try to banish it from her vocabulary.

She turned the mill on. “I'll figure it out, don't worry.”

“I never worry about you, Bex. If there was a woman who didn't need anyone, it's you.”

He had to mean that as a compliment, right? Except he knew her better than maybe anybody, and one of their points of conflict had been her acute independence. “I need people,” she said, sounding kind of lame.

“I didn't mean that in a bad way, you know.”

She took the empty bag to the garbage. “I know.” It was still nice for him to clarify that. “But I get what you're saying. I've mellowed a bit in the past five years. I'm more likely to ask for help than I was.”

He laughed softly. “I find that surprising, but I guess we all change. I figured you had to have changed to come back here. You were so gung-ho to leave.”

Did he really want to go there? She supposed they had to at some point, but they could keep things pleasant and reflective. It would be good for their friendship. “I was, and I won't say I didn't have second thoughts about coming back now. So far, though, it seems to be the right decision.” Did he hear the uncertainty in her voice? She hoped not.

“I'm glad. I hope I've made the right decision for me.”

Her pulse quickened at the thought of him staying. How in the hell would she manage her inconvenient feelings then? “About going back to France?” She thought of Emily and how thrilled she'd be to hear that he was having second thoughts.

He hesitated. “Not really. It's just my family. They'd like me to stay. And I
have
missed them.”

“Your mom would be ecstatic if you decided to stay.”
And I wouldn't mind either.

“I should head out,” Hayden said, ignoring her comment. “I'm meeting my dad for lunch over at Archer, and I need to swing into town to pick up sandwiches from Barley and Bran. Have you been back there yet? They have new owners since you were in town.”

“Yeah, I went there on my first day to have lunch, and I was so disappointed that their menu was different.” She laughed. “My bad for expecting that nothing would change in five years.”

And here she was five years older, feeling the same attraction toward this man. Only it wasn't the same. There was something different about this. Something she longed to explore, thinking it could be deeper and better than what they'd had before. But she wouldn't. Not unless he put up a flashing bright green light. Somehow she didn't see that happening, especially since he wouldn't even be on the same continent.

A
FTER HAVING LUNCH
with his dad, Hayden went back up to The Alex to continue helping Kyle set up his wine cellar. He saw Bex's truck parked outside the brewhouse and considered walking in that way.

But why? He could walk in through the main entrance of the restaurant or the back way next to Kyle's office. There was absolutely no need for him to enter Bex's sphere twice in one day, and he shouldn't want to.

Shaking his head, and hopefully clearing it of thoughts of her, he walked into the restaurant and beelined back to the kitchen where Kyle and his staff were working on a test meal. They'd been practicing the past week to prepare for Friday's rehearsal dinner, which would be held here.

“What's cooking?” Hayden asked.

Kyle looked up from the fish he was filleting. “Salmon. It's our last practice before we do a run-through tomorrow night.”

That was Thursday, the day before the rehearsal. “You're making the same meal two nights in a row?”

“Three, actually. The staff's families are coming up tomorrow night to be our guinea pigs, and then we'll serve it for real at the rehearsal dinner.” He finished up with the fish and nodded at one of his employees to come and take over. He went to wash his hands. “Thanks for coming back. That shipment came in while you were gone.” He'd been expecting several cases of wine from a distributor, and Hayden was going to inventory and stock them.

Hayden nodded. “Sure thing. Gives me something to do.”

Kyle wiped his hands and laughed. “Like you wouldn't be up to your eyeballs in work over at Archer Enterprises if you wanted to be. Just say the word and anyone in this family would put you to work.”

Hayden had always jumped in to help. When he'd been the only one to stay in Ribbon Ridge after college, he'd wondered if he was alone in feeling a responsibility to the family business. “Probably true.”

“Come on, I'll walk down with you for a bit.” Kyle led him down the stairs to where the passageway led to Archetype. They'd use it to deliver food from the kitchen to the small pub.

Hayden followed him into the wine cellar, which Dylan had converted from a root cellar, enlarging the space and installing floor to ceiling racks as well as a temperature control system. They'd inventoried and stocked several cases already that morning, and after Hayden finished with the shipment, he'd determine what else they needed to fill in the blanks. He already knew there was only one sparkling variety, and they'd need more than that to call themselves a respectable restaurant.

The cases were stacked in various towers around the room. There was a worktable in the middle, on which sat the laptop they were using to log the bottles. Hayden opened the first case and whistled. “Nicely done.” It was a set of library vintages from a local winery. Kyle had to have called in a favor to get them.

Kyle went to the table and opened the laptop. “Thanks. I've been working all angles. You can thank Cam for that batch. He knows everybody.”

He did, and damn that would be an excellent asset for their not-happening-right-now winery. “Cam is very good at what he does.”

“True dat. I'm ready whenever you are,” Kyle said.

Hayden did what they'd done earlier that day—he read out the winery, variety, vintage, and any tasting notes he could recall. He'd tasted a lot of this wine, but not all of it. He'd have to look some up later. Or tomorrow.

When they'd finished logging the case, which held three different wines, Hayden went about finding the appropriate location to store it then reported it to Kyle, who noted it in the program. Each slot in the rack had a specific address so they could find and pull the wines easily.

“I really appreciate you helping me out like this,” Kyle said. “Once again, you are the lifesaver.”

Hayden finished putting the bottles away and went to open the next case, which held just one kind of pinot noir. “Is that how you all see me?”

Kyle chuckled. “I don't know. You've just always been responsible.”

“So's Liam, and you don't call him that.”

“Hell no, he was way too self-involved for too long—not like you. You've always looked out for everyone.” He looked up at Hayden and blinked. “Why do you think you're the most well-liked?”

Hayden laughed. “Is that it? You don't think it was selfish of me to bail on The Alex when I did?”

“I can't speak for anyone else, but I didn't think so. But then I'm the last person to fault anyone for getting out of Dodge.” He was referring to his own departure several years ago, following a nasty situation in which he'd gotten in over his head with his gambling. Derek had found out and told their father, who'd paid off Kyle's bookie. Kyle had been pissed at Derek for breaking their confidence, and it had taken years for them to patch things up.

“Anyway,” Kyle continued, “leaving when you did was good for you. Wasn't it?”

“Yes.” For so many reasons. Dealing with Alex's death, getting over Bex, allowing himself to be exactly what Kyle said he wasn't: selfish. But was pursuing your dreams selfish? It didn't feel that way, but he'd blamed all of his siblings for being just that after they'd done the same thing.

Maybe he'd been too harsh. Or immature. Or both. It was nice to know they didn't think badly of him—or at least Kyle didn't. “I have to admit I wondered why no one else felt a responsibility to stay here like I did. Maybe I'm just weird.”

Kyle shook his head. “No way. I thought about it—briefly—but I wanted to cook.”

“Didn't Dad offer you a job at one of the pubs before you went to Florida?”

Kyle cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I just needed to get away. Like I said, I'm the last person to burn anyone for needing to leave. I was a mess back then, Hayden. I'm only slightly less of a disaster now.”

“That is not true!” Maggie declared as she came into the wine cellar. She went directly to Kyle and kissed his cheek. “You're not a disaster. Maybe a small nuisance from time to time, but totally manageable.”

Kyle grinned down at her, and their love and companionship filled the dim cellar, making Hayden feel like a third wheel.

“Hello?” Liam's voice echoed in the passageway. “I heard there's a party in here.” He walked in with Aubrey, and it suddenly seemed it might be heading that way. He stopped to look at what Hayden was pulling out of the box. “Definitely a party. I love that pinot.”

Aubrey peered over his shoulder, her chin nudging his shirt. “Yum, me too.”

Liam picked a bottle up and took it over to the table where there was an opener. Glasses for tasting hung beneath the tabletop, and he reached down to grab a few.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Hayden asked, despite knowing precisely what his brother was doing. “We're in the middle of inventorying.”

“So inventory this one out.” Liam peeled the foil off then paused as he noticed Hayden staring at him. “What? You've got at least eleven more, right?”

“Yes. Fine. Whatever.” Hayden wasn't used to his siblings—or at least Liam—interrupting his work.

“You good, brother?” Liam asked. “Didn't mean to overstep.”

“No, it's good. It's just weird having you here.”

Both Liam and Kyle laughed. “It is taking some getting used to,” Kyle said.

Liam looked at Kyle as he pulled the cork from the bottle. “Like you being here isn't damned bizarre. Or the fact that you've managed to pull this restaurant together.”

“And star on TV,” Maggie put in. “Sorry, Liam, but you can't cast Kyle in the role of slacker anymore.”

Liam poured out wine into five glasses. “Nope, I guess I can't.” He held up his glass. “To my brother, the
former
slacker.”

Kyle lifted his glass. “Gee, thanks. Next we'll drink to my brother, the current asshole.”

This was met with laughter, including from Aubrey, who winked at her fiancé. “Sorry, babe, he's got you there.”

Liam winced, but grinned nonetheless. “Ouch.”

“What the hell's going on down here?” Dylan walked in and looked around. “Don't you people work?”

“Too damn much,” Liam said. “But still not as much as you. I'd tell you to sit the hell down and drink with us, but there aren't any chairs.” He poured another glass. “You can drink though. Here.” He handed him the pinot.

“Dude, I just stopped in on my way over to Archetype. I have to finish installing the lighting.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “
Dude
, you can take a fifteen-minute break. I'm pretty sure I'm your boss, so consider that an order.”

Liam was the boss? Rather,
a
boss. Hayden supposed they were all “bosses” on this project. Was
he
? He had been before he'd left for France, but he felt completely disconnected, and he didn't like the sensation.

“I don't know, jackass,” Dylan said. “The only guy down here who was around when I was hired was Hayden. I think he's more my boss than you.”

Hayden couldn't help but smile, both at feeling included and at his future brother-in-law burning his most arrogant sibling.

“This is where you all are?” Tori asked as she walked into the cellar followed by Sara.

Damn, this really was turning into a party. A party in which everyone had a date except Hayden. And Tori, he realized. Except Sean took that moment to walk in.

“Who wants to know where we are?” Maggie asked, sipping her wine.

Sara shrugged. “I was just looking for my fabulous fiancé.” She smiled at Dylan as she walked up to him and curled her arms around his waist. Dylan held her close for a moment and kissed her forehead. He whispered something to her, and Sara's smile broadened.

Hayden looked away.
Third-wheel status confirmed.

“I think we need more wine,” Liam said. “You cool with that, temporary sommelier?” he asked Hayden.

“Fine with me. It's not my restaurant.” He looked over at Kyle, who waved a hand.

“I've got two more cases of this somewhere around here, so open away.”

Hayden handed a second bottle to Liam, who pulled out more glasses. He stopped. “Wait, I shouldn't be opening this.” He turned and moved to the side, making a grand gesture for Hayden to come forward. “You should do the honors.”

Everyone was staring at him, and things had grown quiet. Hayden wasn't used to being the center of anything in this family. He went to the table and took the wine opener from Liam. “Thanks.” He felt simultaneously happy to be singled out and odd to be the focus. He opened the wine and poured glasses for Tori, Sean, and Sara.

Conversation picked up again, and Hayden couldn't help but notice the couples all stood together. They were either very close to each other or touching in some way. Hayden had never felt more alone in his life. His siblings had all found happiness—love. And in the wake of Alex's death. Hayden had been excited to immerse himself in his new life in France, and he realized it had allowed him to bury everything else—Alex, Bex, his family, and this project that was really just an extension of Alex.

He liked being home, but it meant he couldn't bury anything anymore, especially with Bex living here. Going back to France ensured he could compartmentalize everything. He could leave all of these issues in Ribbon Ridge, where life seemed to be moving along quite well without him.

B
EX DROVE INTO
the mostly full lot outside The Arch and Fox for Sara and Dylan's rehearsal dinner. Plucking her small clutch purse from the console between her seats, she slid out of the cab and locked the truck before heading to the door of the restaurant.

She was immediately greeted by the hostess, whom she'd met the other day. “Hi, Lisa,” Bex said as the door swept closed behind her. “This looks terrific.”

Flowers and decorations in the wedding colors of sage green, pink, and navy adorned the interior, and the tables were organized in a special layout with the bride and groom sitting in front of the massive fireplace, which wasn't running tonight. Even though it was quite cool in here, a fire in mid-July would be silly.

“Thanks,” Lisa said. “Come on in. Servers are circulating with appetizers, beer, and wine. If you'd like a cocktail, just head over to the bar.”

Bex flashed her a smile. “Will do.” A cocktail sounded good, so she headed to the bar where Miguel was pouring and chatting up a storm. He was going to be a fantastic bartender. They'd spent a good half hour discussing beer the day before, and Bex was stoked to work with him.

He grinned when he saw her. “Hey, Bex. What can I get you? I've got a great thing going with mojitos tonight.” He winked at her.

“Sounds terrific, thanks.”

Sara came toward her and gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for coming!”

“I wouldn't miss it. Thanks for letting me crash. The rehearsal was beautiful.” Bex had watched them practice the ceremony in the backyard before coming over. All the tents and tables and chairs were set, the decorations in place; all they needed was the day to dawn.

Sara smiled. “You are not crashing at
all
. I'm honored you could be here with me. Sit wherever you like. I'm not a fan of assigned places.” She gave Bex's arm a rub before moving on to welcome the next guest. Dylan was nearby, talking with one of the Archer cousins. Blake Archer, Rob's brother's son, was also staying at the house. Bex had eaten dinner with him and his sister, Laurel, last night. Neither lived in Ribbon Ridge, but said they never ruled out a return. Ribbon Ridge, it seemed, had a pull on all of them.

“Here you go.” Miguel slid the mojito over to her. “Enjoy!”

She picked up the glass and took a sip. Oh, this guy knew how to mix. “Fantastic. Careful, Miguel, or I'm going to need a designated driver.”