by Darcy Burke
Shit.
“Did you go for a ride?”
He nodded as he swallowed a long drink of water. “With your dad. I went over there this morning to have breakfast, and he was just getting ready to go out. He invited me to join him. He’s a total rock star. I could barely keep up.”
She tried to think of how to bolster her plan, but her pounding head was making coherent thought difficult.
As if sensing the depth of her misery, he looked at her with concern. “I’d ask what we should do today, but I think you might need some R and R.” He set his water on the counter. “We could just hang out and watch movies, if that sounds good. I was hunting around your on-demand cable this morning and saw the latest Wes Anderson movie’s available.”
She recalled that they shared a deep love of Anderson’s quirky characters. A hazy memory from last night, of realizing they maybe knew each other better than she’d thought, washed over her. It didn’t matter. The marriage was still long distance, and being with Sean still made her think of losing Alex—didn’t it? “I’ve seen it,” she said, summoning her inner ice queen to keep him and her emotions at bay. And she had, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t watch it again. Or a dozen more times.
“Well, there are other choices.”
She heard the disappointment in his tone and felt terrible. But wasn’t her goal to make him find her so repulsive that he’d ask for a divorce without bothering with his obnoxious TV show?
“I think I’ll take your advice and go for rest and relaxation. I might just go back to bed.”
“You should probably eat something. Maybe some toast. Do you want me to bring you a slice?” Why did he have to be so great?
For a moment, she envisioned this as a real marriage. She drank a little too much, he took care of her, they snuggled on the couch and spent the day just sharing each other’s company. That sounded so divine . . . but then she remembered who he was and why she was trying to make him go away. He was the man she’d leaped headfirst into a lifelong commitment with at the same moment her brother had needed her to be there for him. Their impulsive, long-distance marriage would’ve been a challenge in any situation, but factor in Alex’s suicide, and it was completely DOA.
“It’s okay, I think I’ll just snag a box of crackers.”
He went to a cupboard and grabbed one, sliding it over the counter toward her. “Here. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I don’t need anything else,” she said wearily. “I just want to be alone. There was a reason our relationship was long distance—I like my space.” She snatched up the crackers and her water bottle and walked back to the bedroom as quickly as her aching head and churning stomach would allow.
She hated what she was doing, but damn it, she didn’t know what else to do. He’d dredged up so many emotions, so much angst, and she needed all of it to go away. She’d crafted a nice cocoon for herself over the past several months, and inside of it she was safe and protected. She was also aloof and lonely. And she had to acknowledge it kind of sucked.
AFTER SHOWERING AND trying to do some work at the apartment, Sean had decided he needed a change of venue to get his head on straight. Just when he thought he’d figured Tori out, she went and did something new that completely threw him off. Like drag him into bed with her and then treat him like anathema.
His ride with Rob Archer had been great. He loved beer and bicycles, two of Sean’s favorite things. He also loved his family, and that alone vaulted him to superdad status. Sean missed his dad, and spending time with Rob reminded him just how much. It also eased the ache of being apart from his parents, at least for a while.
They’d steered clear of in-depth discussion regarding Tori, which had suited Sean fine. What could he say? I’d like to try a real marriage—I always have—and she’d rather call it quits without even bothering. Her family would figure that out all on their own, without him spelling it out.
Another topic Sean had avoided was the television show. He wasn’t sure if Rob knew about it, and Sean decided he didn’t want to bring it up. What if Rob was against it? Better to ensure some of the siblings, namely Kyle, were on board first.
Sean drove into Ribbon Ridge and gravitated toward The Arch and Vine, the Archers’ flagship brewpub in the heart of town. It seemed you could take a boy out of England, but you couldn’t take England out of the boy; when you couldn’t think of where to go, you ended up at the pub.
He parked down the street and locked the car before heading toward the wood and brick building. A stone archway framed the door, and an old-fashioned painted wooden sign like he would expect to see back at home hung over the walk. He went inside and was struck by the interior’s charm and warmth. A large square bar sat in the center of the space, with booths and tables surrounding it. Windows dotted two walls, and the wall to his left was covered with a detailed painting of a medieval street that could have been straight out of the Cotswolds. He smiled, feeling right at home.
“Sit wherever you like,” said the bartender loudly toward Sean. He stood behind the tap and pulled a beer, which he slid to a customer seated at the bar.
Sean went to the bar and took one of the cushioned stools. The man came over and slapped a menu in front of Sean. “What can I get you?”
He’d tried a handful of their beers at the Oktoberfest celebration last weekend, but there were still a few he ought to sample. He studied the menu.
The bartender, a man in his sixties, leaned on the bar. “If you want, I can get you a sampler—three beers, six ounces each.”
“Brilliant. I’ll take Popinjay, Apollo, and Shaft.” He was most excited about the Shaft, which was a stout. “The names are hilarious; who comes up with those?”
The bartender drew his beers from the tap and arranged them on a board with cutouts for the glasses. “One of the Archer kids.”
“Oh, which one?” The man looked at him skeptically through his glasses, and Sean realized that he probably thought it was a personal question from a seemingly random customer. But was it okay for him to announce himself as Tori’s husband?
“Wait a minute,” the bartender said. “Are you Tori’s husband, the Brit?”
Sean blinked. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“I’m George.” He offered his hand over the bar and gave Sean a hearty shake. “I’ve known the Archers since they were ankle-biters. Derek was in yesterday, and he mentioned you.”
Apparently he wasn’t a secret at all anymore. Ironic, now that he was probably on his way out.
Sean tried the Popinjay, a Belgian-style ale with a hoppy finish. “This is fantastic. Rob really knows how to craft a brew.”
“That he does. People can’t believe he still comes up with just about every beer we produce across our nine pubs.”
Sean folded his arms on the bar. “‘Just about’?”
“Once in a while an employee comes up with a good one. A few years back, he had a great assistant brewer. She came up with this incredible blonde ale—we still make Legolas at several of the pubs and everywhere in the summer.”
He chuckled. “Legolas—that’s a great name, too.”
“Alex always came up with the names. Not sure who does it now. But then, I think we’ve only had a couple of new beers this year—one that was already in development when he died and the special one for the annual Brewer’s Fest in Portland.”
“Well, they’re sure creative.” Sean tried the Apollo next. It was extra bitter with a great foam.
“That was Alex. He was a writer—did all of the writing stuff for Archer.” He leaned over and lowered his voice. “I think he tried to write a novel, but I don’t know what ever happened to that.” He straightened. “I guess we’ll never know. A shame.”
Sean held up the glass of Apollo in silent toast and took a drink. He’d never met Alex, but he felt as if he knew him. Of all the Archers, Tori had talked about him and Evan the most. “He has a nice legacy, though, with the monastery they’re renovating and just with
his family. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. My memory could simply fade into nothingness.” Damn, when had he turned into a maudlin bastard?
George looked at him with a curious glint in his eye, as if he were wondering the same thing, but he didn’t say so; instead he asked what Sean did for a living, and they talked about that for a few minutes.
“Did you ever watch their show?” he asked. “Eh, probably not since you were in England.”
“I’ve seen it recently, actually. Just a few episodes. They were funny kids.”
“Oh, they were a riot, especially Kyle and Tori. They were the real stars of that show. Liam was, too, but he’s got a more serious vein than the two of them. And boy did they love it. Kyle was so upset when they didn’t renew it for another season. Tori was, too, though she tried to hide how she really felt.”
“Is that right?” Sean had the impression she hadn’t liked the show, which hadn’t carried over to the show itself. George was right in that she shined with humor and the ability to absolutely command the spotlight. “I liked the episode where she directed everyone in a production of some kid movie that had just come out—something about ants who hired a circus to drive away the evil grasshoppers.” He was usually great with movie titles, but this one escaped his brain.
“A Bug’s Life. Tori was obsessed with that movie. I remember her dressing up as the lead girl ant for Halloween that year.” George chuckled. “If memory serves, she and that bug had a lot in common.”
Now Sean remembered; the ant was a princess, who was in training to be the new queen. She was driven, loyal to her family, and eager to lead. “Yes, Tori is a lot like that ant.” He moved on to the Shaft and closed his eyes in appreciation. “Now this is a magnificent beer.”
“Can I get you a pint?”
“Absolutely.” He took another drink of the Shaft while George pulled the pint. “Are you the George who taught them all to play pool?”
“I am,” he said proudly, setting the beer in front of Sean next to the sampler rack.
Sean proceeded to tell him about his disgrace at the hands of The Humiliator, which led George to tell numerous pool stories about Tori and her siblings. Sean was halfway through his pint of Shaft and laughing uproariously when Kyle, Derek, and Dylan strolled into the pub.
“Hey, Sean,” Kyle said, joining him at the bar. “You harassing George?”
“I suppose so.”
Kyle clapped him on the back and threw George a grin. “Good. He deserves that and worse.”
“You’re a rotten kid, Kyle Archer,” George said with a laugh.
“What’re you doing here drinking alone?” Kyle asked.
“Come on, sit with us.” Derek led them to a booth in the corner by the front window.
Sean was a bit hesitant; he wasn’t sure who was friend or foe at this point. But he was running low on time to kick this show into gear, so he couldn’t afford to ignore this prime opportunity.
Kyle was still at the bar, typing something into his phone.
“What’s he doing?” Dylan asked as he slid into one side of the booth.
Derek took the bench across from him. “Probably texting Maggie. He’s completely whipped.”
Dylan barked a laugh. “Like you aren’t, newlywed boy.”
“Pot. Kettle. Black.”
Sean sat down next to Dylan.
Dylan offered a sly smile. “Hey, I never said I wasn’t at Sara’s beck and call.”
“Shut it. I don’t want to hear about my sister,” Kyle said as he took the only open space next to Derek. “Speaking of sisters, where’s Tori?” Kyle asked Sean.
“She’s, uh, recovering.”
Dylan held up his hand for a high five. “Hit me.”
Kyle groaned. “I said I didn’t want to hear about my sister.”
Sean slapped Dylan’s hand but shook his head. “She drank too much last night.”
“Yeah, Maggie’s feeling it today, too,” Kyle said. “It’s a good thing we broke them up when we did.”
“What happened?” Derek asked.
“She and Maggie hit the wine cellar last night.” Kyle gave Sean a knowing smile. “Although I have to admit it made for a fun evening.”
Sean could read between the lines there. His evening could’ve ended in a similar fashion if he hadn’t been such a gentleman. No, he didn’t regret leaving her alone. He didn’t want her like that. He wanted her to choose him because she wanted him when she was fully sober.
A server arrived, and Derek greeted her by name. After a brief table discussion, they ordered pitchers of Shaft and Longbow and two plates of nachos.
“Dude, you have not lived until you’ve had Archer nachos,” Kyle said.
“Your creation?” Sean asked.
He sighed with regret. “Not guilty, I’m afraid. And I admit I’ve tried to improve them, but you just can’t screw with perfection.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“So Tori and Maggie got blitzed last night; sorry I missed it,” Derek said. He looked at Sean. “What’s up with you two?”
How much should he share? That she was trying to drive him away with obnoxious behavior? That he’d offered her a divorce in exchange for doing the television show? In the end he only towed what seemed to be their party line. “It’s complicated. We’re trying to figure things out.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “You guys are lame. Just spit it out. Are you splitting up or not?”
Was there any point in not telling them? No. “Probably.” Except when he thought of their shared memories. And the kissing . . . in the bed. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “She’s acting strange.”
Derek cocked his head to the side, his dark blue eyes fixed on Sean. “How?”
The pitchers arrived, and the four of them filled their glasses. Sean wished he hadn’t said anything. She was acting strange, but he knew what she was trying to do—get rid of him. Just like he knew that last night’s about-face had nothing to do with a change of heart on her part and everything to do with a magnum of fantastic pinot.
“Oh, never mind. I don’t want to bore you guys.” Sean took a long drink of beer and hoped they’d change the subject.
Derek frowned. “I’ve been worried about her for a while now. Everyone’s been a little off since Alex died, but we’ve all been slowly working back to a new normal. I’m not sure she is, though.”
Kyle nodded. “I thought it was just me not being around the last few years, that she’d changed while I was gone. But she is different now.”
“How?” Dylan sipped his Longbow. “I mean, she’s definitely different than she was in high school, but that was a decade ago.”
“Before Alex died,” Derek said to Dylan, “she was more like you remember her than she is now. You know—fun, outspoken, the life of the party.”
Derek described the Tori Sean had gotten to know. The Tori he’d fallen in love with; the Tori he saw glimpses of but worried was fading.
He wasn’t sure he should ask, but in the end couldn’t help himself. “Do you think she hasn’t really dealt with Alex’s death?”
The three men looked at each other. Derek shrugged. “It’s possible. But she’s so stubborn. I don’t know how you’d get her to realize that. She used to be more emotional—last spring, right after it happened. But over the summer and now into fall, she’s pretty business-as-usual.”
“That’s exactly it,” Dylan said. “She’s all business. She works on The Alex, she does work for her real job in San Francisco. What does she do for fun?”
“She runs.” Kyle grimaced as he lifted his beer for a drink. “Houston, I think we have a problem.”
“Guys, don’t say anything to her,” Sean said. “At least not until she and I figure things out.”
The conversation thankfully turned.
Sean drank his beer, regretting the focus he’d thrown on Tori. She might’ve liked the limelight once, but he was pretty sure she preferred to hide in the shadows these days.
And that was more than enough to change his concern from whether she’d do the stupid show or stay married to him to hoping that she’d find a way to be all right again.
Chapter Twelve
TORI HAD JUST managed to take a shower and get herself dressed when her phone vibrated on the nightstand. She picked it up and read the screen.
Kyle: Your husband’s at the A&V drinking alone. WTF?
That’s where Sean had gone. He’d left without saying a word, not that she’d given him much opportunity after holing herself up in the bedroom with water and crackers. With her stomach settled and her headache quashed with Tylenol, she now harbored just a vague sensation of blah.
She texted Kyle back: And?
Kyle: And why aren’t you here with him?
Tori: We’re not attached at the hip!
Though they had been last night. The specifics of their brief-but-hot encounter were a bit hazy, but the feel of his body against hers and the taste of his wine-drenched mouth were emblazoned on her mind. And perhaps between her thighs.
Ugh, she was terrible! Lusting after Sean when she was trying to push him away. Who did that?
She did.
Because she had to. Divorce was her only option unless she wanted to be locked in a long-distance marriage with a guy who constantly reminded her of her dead brother. She winced. It was time to kick Operation Divorce Me into overdrive.
She’d already tried so many things to push him away, and nearly every single one had backfired. He’d suffered through that horrid pageant show the other night, joined her in her early morning workout, traded his coffee for her disgusting latte—he’d even sat through a poetry reading when his eyes had been drooping past his knees. Even worse—she’d been the one to walk away feeling agitated after watching countless women eyeing him at the race and then catching that sneaky Dawn Yocum flirting with him at the bookstore.
That’s it!
She’d flirt with someone to show Sean that she wasn’t committed to this marriage in the slightest. She immediately thought of who she could enlist, but it gave her pause. Cade D’Onofrio was a really nice guy, just not the guy for her. She’d pretty much told him that, but he’d said he was patient. She’d talked to him a couple of times this week about work stuff, but they hadn’t mentioned Oktoberfest and how they hadn’t hung out together like they’d planned. Maybe that gave her an in.
