by Darcy Burke
“Yes, you will.” Sara gave her a last, quick hug. “Bye.”
When she was alone, Tori sagged back against the wall and closed her eyes. It had been only a matter of time until everyone found out, even if she’d gotten the divorce. Right? She’d been nuts to think she could keep a marriage a secret. Except she had for eight months.
But that was over, and she needed to reconcile herself to that fact.
A few minutes later, footsteps sounded from the sanctuary just before she heard the door whoosh shut. She straightened, running her hand down her hair and swiping a finger beneath each eye even though she hadn’t cried. Sean poked his head around the corner. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
His gaze was wary, perhaps doubtful, as he stepped into the hallway, which had practically become a therapist’s office. “Dylan showed me the Ridgeview. It’s stunning.”
She appreciated him not diving directly into the abyss. “He and his team did a great job.”
“Yes, as did you. He showed me before pictures on his phone. That your vision transformed it into what it is today is astounding.”
“It was Sara’s vision.”
Suddenly, his face darkened, his brows dipping low over his eyes as he walked toward her. “Stop doing that.”
She tensed, but he stopped just before her. “Doing what?”
“Just take the damn compliment I’m giving you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ve been really hard on yourself. I can see that now.” He frowned, his gaze turning contemplative. “What do you plan to do?”
“It’s your lucky day. I’ll be introducing you as my husband at dinner tonight.” She tried to inject a bit of levity into her tone but was afraid it came out sounding shrill.
He rocked back on his heels. “I see. Sara talked you into having an open mind after all.”
“No, she admonished me that I shouldn’t lie to my parents. Not now. This doesn’t mean anything has changed. I don’t want to be married to you.” Her voice quavered, but she blamed it on the emotion of the morning.
His mouth hardened, and she would’ve said he was sporting the proverbial British stiff upper lip. “Good to know. Shall we announce the marriage over cocktails and the divorce at dessert?”
She deserved that. “I don’t plan to mention the divorce tonight. I’ll let them know we’re trying to see if there’s anything between us after so many months apart. And I’ll be telling them before you come for dinner. I don’t want to create a scene.” She didn’t want to talk about their marriage in front of her family, like it was some sort of group discussion.
His demeanor, so thoughtful when he’d first come back, turned cool. “Thank you for keeping me informed. As long as you continue to do so, I shall endeavor to do my part. Are you ready to go back? I think I might like to avail myself of your family’s gym. It turns out I’ve a bit of frustration to work off.”
She stepped toward him. “Sean, I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry with me.”
He pivoted. “I honestly don’t know why you care how I feel about you. It certainly seems as though my feelings are irrelevant. I’ll wait for you outside.”
Tori kicked back, striking the base of her foot against the wall. Sharp pain speared into her heel. She moved away from the wall and brought her foot up. A nail had gone right through the sole of her Converse, leaving a small hole. It hadn’t punctured her skin, but she was going to have a bruise.
Life was being particularly harsh today. And maybe, just maybe, she deserved it.
Chapter Five
AFTER SPENDING THE afternoon sweating in the Archer’s gym and indulging in a much-needed, jet-lag-mitigating nap, Sean had felt ready to take on whatever the Archer dinner could throw at him. What he wasn’t necessarily ready for was spending more time with Tori. While he’d been working to convince her they could make a go of things—for the sake of getting her to agree to the show—he’d somehow convinced himself it was possible. How wrong he’d been. Her frigid behavior and piss-poor attitude had smacked his burgeoning hope right down.
They were donesville, and that was fine with him. He just needed their parting to be conciliatory so the show could go on—literally. Tonight, he’d put his best foot forward with her family, which he would’ve done anyway.
He let himself out of the garage apartment and ran directly into Derek and Chloe as they walked from their car toward the house.
“Hey, Sean,” Derek said, extending his hand. “Uh, congratulations, I guess.”
Sean shook it warily.
Chloe elbowed her husband and gave Sean a smile. “We heard about you and Tori.”
They all knew. But then, that had been Tori’s plan—it was always her plan. “Thanks. I’m glad it’s out in the open.”
“Tori explained why you kept it secret.” Derek shook his head. “What crap timing.”
“Yeah.” Sean really wasn’t sure how much to say. It was in his best interest to just keep things pleasant and friendly, which meant he wouldn’t tell them how frustrated he’d been by the secrecy and how thoroughly Tori had iced him out.
“And then you being gone for so many months,” Chloe said. She spoke slowly, as if she were carefully selecting her words. “Whatever you and Tori decide, I hope you’ll both be happy.”
Whatever they decide. Right, they were testing the waters or whatever horseshit she’d told them. “I appreciate that.” He tried not to be annoyed by all of this. It was as if he was a spectator in his own goddamned life. He took a breath and reminded himself to keep his eye on the ball—the TV show. “What’s for dinner?”
“Dunno,” Derek said, walking toward the house. “Let’s find out.”
He held the door for Chloe and then waved Sean to go inside. Delicious aromas greeted them, and Sean’s stomach growled. Whatever it was smelled damn good.
They made their way down the short hall to the kitchen, where everyone was already congregated. Sara was just putting the finishing touches on setting the table and looked up. Her smile was genuinely warm and welcoming, which helped soothe Sean’s chaotic nerves.
“Hi, Sean, I hope you’re hungry. Kyle’s outdone himself.”
“It smells great.” Sean turned to watch Kyle and his mother plating the meal. It looked like something straight off a cooking show, and Sean immediately wondered if Kyle had ever done one.
Kyle looked up, smiling. “Hey! Hope you like pork medallions.”
“Even if I didn’t, how could I refuse that gorgeous plate?”
Kyle chuckled. “Grab a beer or your beverage of choice.” He nodded toward the other island, which was more a bar than the one used in the cooking area. Rob Archer stood behind it, his hand curled around a pint glass as he talked to Dylan.
Sean had expected to feel uncomfortable, like the odd man out, but conversations continued, and everyone smiled at him when they made eye contact. He had yet to locate Tori, however, and realized she wasn’t in the room.
Musing over her absence, he went to the beer tap and smiled at Tori’s father and Dylan. “Thank you for including me tonight.”
Dylan made eye contact with Sean, gave a little nod, and then disappeared.
“You’re our guest,” Rob said, transferring his attention to Sean over the counter. “And my daughter’s husband, apparently.” There was a note of disapproval in the man’s voice.
“I apologize for the way you found out.” He had to tread a thin line. Though Tori had insisted on keeping their marriage from her family, he couldn’t very well blame her for it to her father.
“Do you want a beer? This is an IPA I’m testing.”
“Definitely, thank you.” It was a shame he and Tori weren’t going to be married much longer. Sean could really get used to the beer.
Rob set his glass on the counter and turned to grab another pint from the glass-fronted cupboard behind him. He pulled the beer from the tap, and a perfect foam topped the light amber brew. Rob slid the glass across the counter bu
t didn’t release it. “Why would you get married so quickly? Without meeting her family? Or without her meeting yours?”
Shit. He should’ve expected such questions, especially from her father. “My family lives in England. I agree that it would’ve been preferable to have met you—and to have asked your blessing—but, well, we didn’t. The truth is that we let our emotions rule our heads—I was head over heels in love with your daughter.”
Rob’s gray eyes flickered with something that might have been admiration, but maybe Sean was just looking for positive feedback and seeing something that wasn’t really there. “You said ‘was.’ Does that mean you aren’t in love with her anymore?”
Bloody hell, he’d stepped right into that one. Was he in love with her? He was in lust with her for sure, and now he wondered if they hadn’t been too hasty after all. Maybe it hadn’t been love. Maybe it had been just a combustive attraction. “I care for her a great deal. I’m not ready to call it quits yet.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but neither was it a lie. He wasn’t walking away until the TV show was finished.
Rob’s gaze shifted to the left. He let go of the glass at last. “Dinner’s ready.”
Sean picked up his beer and thanked him, then turned. He’d expected to see that Rob had been looking at the food over on the other counter, but no, he’d been looking at Tori. When had she come in? Had she heard their conversation? No, there was surely too much noise for that. Still, the edges of his nerves curled with a flash of discomfort.
Dressed in a light, white- and gray-striped V-neck T-shirt and dark teal jeans, she looked fresh and beautiful, and he bet she smelled the same. She always smelled great. Her dark hair hung past her shoulders in a straight, smooth line. She wore a slim silver necklace with a tiny bow and arrow that nestled at the base of her throat. He remembered that piece of jewelry—it was her favorite.
Dinner was served, and they all sat down at the table. People seemed to take designated seats—Rob and Emily at either end, two Archer kids on each side, and next to them their significant others. That left a chair for Sean between Tori and Kyle.
Kyle cleared his throat and lifted his glass. “A toast to Tori and Sean. I hope they’ll find what they’re looking for.”
It wasn’t particularly cheerful, but Sean supposed Kyle was doing the best he could with the information he had. Everyone lifted their glasses and drank, including Tori, which somewhat surprised Sean. Though if she was looking for a divorce, why not drink to obtaining that?
Sean leaned over and whispered, “Did you make a wish?”
Tori turned and gave him a sharp look. “Is that a British thing? We don’t make wishes on toasts.”
“Not at all. But what Kyle said . . . It’s a bit innocuous. You could go either way with it—good or bad.”
“You know what I want,” she said through teeth gritted behind a false smile.
“Me to leave?” He smiled back, hoping he was tormenting her.
“That’d be a good start.”
Sean let out a laugh, which drew Kyle’s attention. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, your sister never fails to amuse me.” Sean cut a piece of his pork tenderloin and tasted it. Delicious. Yes, a cooking show might be in order . . .
“Really? She’s been kind of serious lately,” Kyle said between bites. “If you can bring out the fun Tori, that’d be great. I miss her.”
Sean slid a glance at his wife, wondering if she’d heard her brother, but she was deep in conversation with her father, who was on her other side, and Derek, who was across the table. He missed the fun Tori, too. In fact, he was having trouble recalling what she was like. She’d been witty, sexy, utterly captivating. He’d hung on her every word, her every breath. Going their separate ways had been torture after they’d met, but she’d come down to his condo a scant ten days later, and it had been even better than Malaysia. He’d felt it in his bones—she was special. Maybe even The One.
He shook his head to clear the ridiculous thoughts away. Kyle drew him into a conversation about British cuisine, and they both decided several things were an acquired taste, such as black pudding. “But don’t knock the Yorkshire pudding,” Sean warned. “My mum’s recipe is brilliant.”
“You’ll have to give it to me. I’ve only ever tried making it once.”
“I can show you. It’s one of the few things I actually excel at making.”
Kyle winced. “If you and Tori manage to stay together—sorry—but if you do, who’s going to cook?”
Sean recalled Tori telling him that she rarely cooked. In their limited time together, they’d either gone out to eat or relied on takeout. “I imagine we’ll split the duties.”
Kyle shook his head. “Oh no, no. Seriously. You can’t let her in the kitchen. The only thing she can make without burning is coffee.”
“Is that right?” Sean had known she didn’t cook but not that she was bad at it. He glanced at her. She’d seemed the most capable woman he’d ever met. Very smart, excellent at her job—she oozed confidence. To learn that she had a chink in her armor gave him a perverse satisfaction. It meant she was human. And humans could feel, couldn’t they? She could obviously feel. She just didn’t feel the way he’d hoped she would.
“Is what right?” She’d heard him.
“Kyle says the only thing you can make in the kitchen is coffee.”
Tori cast her brother a narrow-eyed glare. “Not true. I’m very good at making dirty dishes.”
Kyle barked a laugh. “True! Good thing you’re so good at cleaning them.”
Tori rolled her eyes. “If you think you’re going to lure me into doing the kitchen with compliments, you’re dead wrong.”
“Hey, you live here. By the time we all head out, it’ll be just you and the folks left behind. And you won’t let Mom stay up to do it, so you’ll be the one on kitchen duty.”
“Dick.” Her eyes sparkled, belying the insult.
Kyle chuckled and focused on eating for a moment.
“I’ll help you, if you like,” Sean offered.
“You don’t have to. Sara won’t leave without helping.” She flicked him a nervous glance. “Thanks, though.
“The offer remains open. I won’t abandon you.”
She looked at him then, her mouth opening and then softly closing as she turned away.
He had the sense she was maybe thinking about the bigger picture—not just dishes. She didn’t think he’d abandoned her, did she? No, of course not. He’d tried to keep in close contact when he went to Europe. She was the one who’d put him off.
Hell, he could’ve written her off months ago, embarked on a torrid little affair with one of the crew in France. Her invitation had been bold and was extended on several occasions, in various states of undress. But Sean had turned her down. He hadn’t been the least bit interested, and he didn’t regret remaining faithful to his wife. Even if they ended up apart.
Dinner continued until the first person surrendered to a not-quite-clean plate. Sara leaned back in her chair. “I’m stuffed. That was your best yet, Kyle. Please tell me you’re putting that on the menu at The Arch and Fox.”
“It’s a finalist for sure.”
“Aren’t these all finalists that you’re making?” Sara asked. “I’m just putting in my vote for this one. And the game hens last week. And the scallops.”
“Don’t forget the mushroom risotto.” Chloe’s eyes took on a dreamlike quality. “I could eat that every day.”
“Be glad he isn’t subjecting you to breakfast too,” Maggie said. “I’m going to be three hundred pounds before the restaurant opens.” She said this with a glint of humor as she looked at Kyle. It was the sort of good-natured ribbing that couples shared. Sean snuck a look at Tori. The sort of ribbing they’d never had a chance to get to.
The meal wound down, and Sara began clearing plates from the table. Sean jumped up to help. She thanked him with a smile.
“Anyone up for pool?” Tori asked. “Sean thinks he
can play with the big boys.”
Sean set a pair of plates on the counter near the sink and slowly swung his gaze toward Tori. It was the first playful thing she’d said. Or maybe she wanted to humiliate him. He narrowed his eyes. She had no idea how well he could play.
“Me, me!” Sara said, grinning as she set another couple of plates near the sink. “Just let me get the kitchen cleaned up.”
Emily stood up from the table. “No, you go on ahead. I’ll take care of the kitchen.” She smiled at everyone and then allowed her gaze to rest on Sean. “Don’t let them bully you.”
“Us?” Kyle asked, in obvious mock affront.
Rob got to his feet. “I’ll be in my office.” He gave Sean a look that said I’ll be watching you. Sean wished he could say something to allay the man’s concerns, but what would that be? His daughter was dead-set on divorcing him, and Sean had no doubt he’d end up the bad guy when all was said and done.
“Come on,” Tori said to him as she passed by the kitchen island.
They moved en masse downstairs to the game room. It was a spectacular space with a fully stocked bar, a poker table, and the pool table. There was a flat-screen TV in one corner, mounted high on the wall.
“Anyone mind if I turn on some football?” Dylan asked.
“Please,” Derek said. “The Seahawks are playing the Chiefs.”
Kyle walked by Sean on his way to the bar. “You watch football?”
“Sure. I prefer British clubs—Man U’s my team—but the Galaxy aren’t bad.”
Kyle laughed. “American football.”
Sean followed Kyle to the bar. “Ah, American. Um, no. I’ve tried, but it’s boring.”
“Boring?” Dylan joined them. “Don’t get me wrong, I like soccer as much as the next guy—I’m a bit of a sports nut—but nothing compares to football.”
“You can’t argue with that,” Derek said, high-fiving Dylan.
“The hell I can’t,” Sean said good-naturedly. “But I’m clearly outnumbered.” He glanced at Tori, thinking that in different circumstances he might have said, help me out here, sweetheart, and held his arm out for her to come into his embrace.
