by Darcy Burke
Liam wished he’d paid more attention to this entire situation. He’d dealt with a ton of zoning issues in Colorado, and granted the law was a bit different between states, but he had experience. Damn it, he should’ve gotten involved. Maybe it wasn’t too late. “Who’s your dad’s attorney?”
“Frank Sutherlin,” she said smugly.
Shit. He was one of the best land-use attorneys in Oregon—in the top five for sure. And expensive as hell. Meanwhile, they had Aubrey, who’d only been practicing for about three years, and while land use was one of her firm’s areas of expertise, she didn’t have the decades of experience Sutherlin did.
Liam took a long drink of beer and scrutinized Whitney. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year—he’d run into her last summer, probably when he’d been home for Derek’s wedding. That was the event that had garnered them an expensive fine from the county for supposedly having a commercial event at The Alex before it had been officially rezoned from agricultural. “You’re the one who reported Derek’s wedding to the county. We had to pay five thousand bucks for that bullshit.”
She shrugged. “Not my problem. And no, I didn’t report anything.” She took another drink of her beer and turned toward him. “Why do you think so poorly of me? I thought we had a lot of fun together.” She dropped her arm and situated it just so that her breast pushed up against the V-neck of her shirt.
He glanced at her impressive cleavage. “Very subtle, Parker. Still not interested.”
“I don’t know why. I don’t make any demands. You come to town, we screw, you go back to Denver, it’s all good. I don’t even care who you fuck when you get home, do I?”
It’s true that she’d never asked, never even seemed to care what he did when he wasn’t in Ribbon Ridge. She had asked him to increase the frequency of his visits, which she’d thought he’d done. In actuality, he’d come home to earn his skydiving certification. He could’ve done the same in Denver, but he had a friend with a skydiving and flying business out in McMinnville, and they shared an intense love for all things extreme.
He set his beer on the bar. “Nice pitch, but I’m still not buying. I’ll pay for your drinks, however, because I’m that kind of guy.”
“A real gentleman.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Liam turned his stool and looked down the bar toward Brian, who was chatting with a server. It took him a moment to make eye contact, but he immediately knew Liam wanted his tab.
Liam glanced over at Whitney as he picked up his beer and downed half of what was left. “What would it take to get your dad to drop his opposition to the zoning change?”
Whitney pursed her lips, then blew air through them. “Gee, I don’t know. I’d have to ask him. But I’m sure if his daughter was happy, he might be persuaded. I wonder what you could do to make me happy . . . ” She tapped a manicured nail against her pink-glossed lip and slid him a seductive stare.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, you’re as subtle as a goddamned two-by-four.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a picture of Evan and Alaina with a text that read: Thanks for everything, bro. You were a great best man.
And now Liam felt like shit for leaving before the reception had ended. His eye landed on the background of the picture. There in the corner was Aubrey, her hand on her date’s shirt, smiling as she looked up at him. They weren’t kissing, but that was precisely the kind of look you exchanged right before you did. Well, if you were normal. If you were fucked up like Liam, smiling wasn’t always part of the recipe for great sex.
Suddenly he didn’t want to go home and see that. He wanted another shot of tequila.
Brian slapped the bill in front of him, but Liam shook his head, setting his phone on the bar. “Change of plans.” He nudged the empty shot glass back toward him. “Double, please.”
“Oooh, now we’re talking,” Whitney cooed beside him. “Another for me, too, but just a single. One of us has to drive.”
Liam cast her a glare. “You are not driving me home. Why are you even still here?”
She batted her eyelashes at him and lowered her voice to the seductive growl he’d known so well. “Because deep down, you know you want me.”
He snorted and waited for his tequila, downing it as soon as it came. A warm buzz started behind his eyes and took the edge off his frustration regarding Aubrey. Why was he so worked up? In his experience, she was way past her expiration date. It was time for him to move on to the next thing. He glanced over at Whitney and was instantly turned off. She wasn’t only a step backward—and he didn’t do that—she just wasn’t Aubrey.
Apparently Aubrey didn’t have an expiration date.
Damn and double damn. He slammed the rest of his beer.
“I’m so driving you home,” Whitney said.
He narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing.
“I didn’t say I’d take you back to my place and screw you six ways from Sunday, but I could totally do that, too.” She gave him a saucy grin. “Just say the word.”
“The word is no.” He shook his head at her, perversely enjoying turning her down again and again. He didn’t believe for one minute that she wasn’t involved with their zoning trouble or that she was over him. “You were fun for a while, but that was a long time ago.”
She shrugged, trying to give off an air of nonchalance, but he saw the fire burning in her eyes. She wanted him, and she was pulling out all the stops to get him. He wouldn’t put it past her to roofie his drink. Shit, he’d turned his back on his beer when he’d asked for the damn check!
He looked at his empty pint glass. Too late now. Whatever damage might’ve been in his beer was done. He felt okay, just buzzed. And getting drunker by the minute actually. He picked up his phone to text Kyle to come pick him up, but that damn picture of Aubrey and her date taunted him.
Her words from earlier weaseled their way into his brain and dug their hooks into him.
Even if I do get bored, I will not call you. We’re done.
He dropped his phone back down and waved for another shot. Brian poured a double without asking—good man.
Liam sipped this one. He willed the alcohol to burn all thoughts of Aubrey from his mind. He couldn’t believe she was done. No, he couldn’t believe he wasn’t. Why couldn’t he just accept Whitney’s offer? She was beautiful, willing, and he knew exactly what sort of hot time he’d be getting.
But she was also nuts and probably fucking his family over. Worse, she was ruining Alex’s legacy with all this zoning crap.
He threw the rest of the tequila back and pulled out his wallet. Time to get away from Toxic Tilly. He fished out a fifty and dropped it on the bar, then caught Brian’s attention and gave him a nod.
He picked up his phone, turned, and slid off his chair. Whitney’s hand caught his bicep.
“Whoa, there,” she said. “You don’t want to go face-first into the floor. This place is filthy.”
He shook her off and tossed her a glare. “You thought I was falling?”
Her hand grazed his back. “I’m happy to catch you.”
He flinched and moved away from her, striding toward the door with purpose despite the slight tunneling of his vision. Yeah, he was kind of fucked up right now.
He pushed open the door and stepped outside. The temperature had dropped, but it was still warm. Warm-ish. Okay, that breeze was a little chilly.
“Forget something?” Whitney’s voice drew him to turn around. She held his helmet in her dark red manicured hands.
“Gimme that.” He snatched it away from her and wove toward his bike.
“You aren’t going to ride, are you?” She caught up to him and touched his arm. “Hey, Liam. I’m serious now. I’ll drive you home.”
He scowled at her. “I’ll call my brother.”
“And wait for him to come get you? It’s getting cold.” She shook her heads. Heads? Dude, pull your head out of your drunk ass right now before you do something stupid.
She
pointed toward her BMW. “Come on, I’m right there. And I promise I won’t take you to my house and jump your bones, although I think you’d probably come willingly in your state.”
“Not a chance in hell.” He wasn’t that drunk. God, he hoped he wasn’t that drunk.
She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward her car. “Not taking no for an answer on this.”
He tried to pull away, but his reflexes were set to slow motion, and Whitney worked out like a banshee. She opened the passenger door and shoved him down into the seat. He pulled his feet in just before she slammed the door. Vicious bitch.
She climbed into the driver’s seat.
“You could’ve taken my feet off,” he drawled.
She laughed. “Sure.” She fired up the engine and pulled out of the lot, going west toward the road that led to his parents’ house.
“I seriously need you to talk to your dad.” God, he wished he didn’t sound so messed up. “He needs to drop the zoning appeal.”
“My dad will do whatever he’s going to do, no matter what I say.”
“Come on, Whitney, you can do better than that, can’t you?”
She turned up the road toward his parents’ and slid him a narrow-eyed glance. “Why should I? You haven’t exactly been nice to me.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t treat you like shit. We had a casual thing, and it ran its course.”
“I didn’t think it was that casual.” Her voice had gone quiet. Serious. Scary as hell. “I was in love with you, Liam.”
Oh fuck. Whatever. “How is that my fault? I didn’t promise you anything.”
“Maybe not in so many words, but how many times did you tell me that we’d be perfect for each other if you were the marrying kind? That if you wanted to settle down and come back home, I ticked everything off your list?”
Shit, had he said those things? He didn’t remember. But then he was drunk as hell right now.
“Well, I’m not the marrying kind, and I’m pretty damned sure I said that, too.” That was practically tattooed on his fucking forehead.
She pulled into the drive and through the gate, which was still open from the wedding reception, he guessed.
Wedding reception.
Dammit. Would everyone still be here? How the hell was he going to explain Whitney Fucking Parker driving him home?
She drove past the fountain in front of the house and through the porte cochere to the back door. How the hell did she know to drop him off here? “Have you been here before?” he asked.
“Duh. A couple of summers ago—it was September, actually—I came up here, and we went skinny-dipping in the pool. You don’t remember?”
Vaguely. “Not really. Must not have been that great.”
“Wow, you’ve turned into a real asshole since your brother died, you know that?” She threw the car into park, and he opened the door and practically fell out in his haste to get away.
But again, he was moving like his feet were encased in lead, and she was around the car and helping him stand before he had his bearings.
She stood in front of him and rested her hands on his shoulders with a sigh. “Really. You always were an arrogant prick, but that’s one of the things I liked best about you. Since Alex died, though, you’ve taken it to a whole new level. I think if you work through your grief, you’d see that there’s someone here who really cares about you. Someone who loves you.” She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
Liam heard the door to the house and used the helmet he still held between them to push her away.
“Liam?” Kyle came toward him. “Are you okay?”
“He’s fine, just drunk.” Whitney turned and linked her arm through Liam’s. “Hi, I’m—”
“Leaving!” Liam interjected. Thank God he possessed enough wits to keep her from spilling her name. That’s just what he needed—his entire family knowing he had a past with the crazy Parker family who was trying to screw them.
He took his arm from hers. “Thanks for the ride. Remember what I said.”
She looked him in the eye, and the edge of malice in her gaze was sharp enough to cut through Liam’s drunken stupor. “Remember what I said. We could be great together, and your problems could . . . maybe go away.”
Was she really blackmailing him? No, he had to be beyond fucked up.
She looked past him at Kyle and smiled. “Good night!”
Liam didn’t bother watching her drive away before he turned and walked toward the house.
Kyle followed him. “Who was she?”
“Just some girl at Ruckus who offered to give me a ride home.”
“Some girl who kissed you. Uh-huh.” The sarcasm in his tone would’ve riled Liam, but he was too wasted and suddenly too tired.
He walked into the back hallway and went straight for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”
“Alone, instead of with that hot blonde?” Kyle sounded shocked. “Weird. I don’t know what’s up with you, bro, but there’s something. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hung up on someone.”
Maybe.
Probably.
Fuck.
Chapter Three
AUBREY WAS A little surprised that Evan and Alaina had invited her to their wedding breakfast on Sunday morning but wouldn’t have dreamed of declining. She’d grown close to many of the Archers since Alex died, and of course she’d been quite close with him before that.
She was able to think of him now without the searing pain in her chest. It had eased into a dull ache, a bittersweet memory that would forever tug at her heart.
His death had been shocking to everyone, and no one more than her. For nearly a year, he’d enlisted her professional assistance to first purchase the abandoned monastery just outside Ribbon Ridge and then set up a trust for his siblings to renovate it in the event of his death. She never imagined he was contemplating suicide. He’d always been upbeat and charming, a more mellow version of his twin brother, Liam.
She hadn’t met any of the other Archers until after Alex killed himself. It had been a rude introduction to the family with whom he’d expected her to work so closely. She’d been pissed at him for a long time. Pissed and sad.
She knocked on the front door, and Emily answered. The matriarch of the family, Emily was petite and blonde, a combination of pixie and firecracker. She’d been devastated by her son’s suicide, which had only contributed to Aubrey’s anger at Alex. He had two loving parents, and he’d completely crushed them. What Aubrey wouldn’t have given for caring, supportive parents like Rob and Emily.
“Good morning, Aubrey!” Emily embraced her in a quick hug. “You’re alone? Where’s your date from last night?”
Aubrey didn’t realize her invitation was plus one, but she wouldn’t have brought him anyway. They’d only been on a few dates, and this seemed like an intimate event for close friends and family.
Aubrey smiled at Emily. “It’s just me.”
That ought to make Liam happy. He’d spent the rest of the wedding reception—after their kiss—scowling at her before disappearing for the night. She’d wondered where he’d gone but decided she was better off not knowing.
Emily moved across the entryway and looked at Aubrey over her shoulder. “You know you can come in the back door—you’re practically family.” She’d invited Aubrey to do that several times now, but for some reason, Aubrey couldn’t bring herself to make that leap.
She blamed her ongoing thing with Liam. Or maybe the fact that she still felt like an outsider and probably always would. She wasn’t an Archer, she wasn’t ever going to be an Archer, and at some point she might actually like to close the book on one of the saddest, most challenging chapters of her life. She was ready to move on, at least in terms of her love life.
She followed Emily into the great room. The reception decorations were still up, and the gifts had been assembled into a pile in front of the windows. Alaina came forward to meet her. “Thanks for coming, Aubrey.”
Aubrey wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the world’s most famous actress hugging her, but who was she to complain? Alaina was just as real and friendly as the Archers—she fit right in with them. That she’d captured the heart of Evan, who had Asperger’s syndrome, warmed Aubrey’s heart. Alex had worried about him and hoped he’d find someone.
She could only imagine what Alex would say if he could be here now: Holy shit, Alaina Pierce? Well done, Evan!
“How are you today, feeling like an old married woman?” Aubrey asked as she pulled back from the hug.
Alaina chuckled. “Old married pregnant woman, for sure. I’ll be really happy when this morning sickness is done. Although whomever called it ‘morning’ sickness was a moron, because I deal with this nausea all day sometimes. Bleh.” She made a face, but nothing she did could detract from her radiant beauty.
“It should pass soon, right?”
“I hope so. The end of this first trimester can’t come fast enough!”
Evan came over and put his arm around his wife’s waist. “Hey, Aubrey.” He looked somewhere past Aubrey’s head, which she was used to. He rarely made eye contact.
“Hi, Evan. When are you headed out on your South Pacific honeymoon?”
“Tomorrow. Did you hear we’re taking a private jet courtesy of a friend of Alaina’s?”
Aubrey smiled at his excitement. Who wouldn’t want to travel via private jet for such a long trip? “I heard that. Sounds amazing. Let me know if you need a flight attendant.”
“Will do.” He pressed a kiss to Alaina’s temple, and she smiled up at him.
Their wedding might’ve been of the shotgun variety given Alaina’s pregnancy, but their love was palpable. Aubrey was certain they would’ve ended up together anyway. She glanced around at the other Archer couples.
Sara, the youngest of the sextuplets, stood with her fiancé, Dylan Westcott. Aubrey had come to know Dylan very well, since he was the contractor for the monastery renovation project. They’d worked together on any number of issues, especially the zoning problems they were currently facing.
