When We Kiss

by Darcy Burke

  Yep, Stuart was definitely tame, whereas Liam was wild and exciting and . . . Stop it.

  “Do you have a box cutter or something I can use?” Again he pulled her away from her lurid thoughts.

  “Yeah, sure.” She went into the kitchen and found a sharp pair of scissors. “Will these do?” She handed them to him, careful not to actually touch him. She did not need physical contact along with the eye candy, thank you very much.

  “Yep.” He turned and opened the box. “It’s so funny you ran out and bought a TV so you wouldn’t miss Game of Thrones. We watch it at the house after our Sunday dinner—on the big screen in the theater. You should come over tomorrow night and watch it with us. Come for dinner first.”

  If this were any other guy, she might think he was asking her on a date, but it was Liam. No way was this a date. Still, it was . . . weird. “I’m not sure what to make of that invitation.”

  He looked up from pulling the inner packaging off the television. “What do you mean?”

  “Liam, you’ve never invited me to anything.”

  His brow wrinkled, and his eyes narrowed. “The hell I haven’t. You keep forgetting about the Gorge last Labor Day. And New Year’s. I texted you.”

  Neither of those counted. “It’s not the same. Your text said, ‘I’d like to see you for New Year’s’—that’s not exactly inviting me to do something. And I was already going to the Gorge. Like you, I go to the concerts every year. We just decided to—” She’d been about to say “hook up,” but she didn’t want to say that. “Never mind.”

  He went back to his task. “This is just dinner and Game of Thrones. With my entire family.”

  Meaning it was as far from anything they’d ever done before as it could possibly be. That also meant it was safe. She wouldn’t have to worry about being alone with him. Oh, who was she kidding? They hadn’t been alone at the winery that day, and they’d flirted themselves into a sexually agitated state.

  “I’ll think about it. I sort of have my own thing here. I usually watch with my neighbors.” If usually meant a couple times since she’d lived here, then sure.

  “Kyle’s cooking dinner, if that helps to sway you. I think he’s doing gourmet pizzas.”

  Kyle was an amazing chef. She’d only sampled his food a handful of times, but it was enough to make her mouth water when she considered what sort of pizzas he’d craft. “You’re making it really hard for me to say no, but then that’s your specialty.”

  He looked up at her over his shoulder as he pulled the instructions from the box. He arched one dark, far too sexy eyebrow. “You’ve demonstrated your ability to give me a hard pass, so I’d argue with your assessment that it’s my specialty.”

  If he only knew how difficult it was to stick to her guns.

  “If Kyle’s food doesn’t persuade you, do it for The Alex. Everyone will want the latest on the zoning, and since you’re working on the response brief, there are things to share, right?”

  Damn it, he had a point. And he’d brought Alex into it, which only tugged at her guilt. Okay, he’d said The Alex, but in her mind they were the same thing, a man and the legacy that was all they had left of him.

  “I’ll think about it.” More like try to think of a solid reason not to go.

  “What are we doing with your old TV?” he asked.

  “It’s dead, according to my uncle.” She’d called him last night and described the situation. “So I guess it has to go to the dump?”

  Liam tried to turn it on, but it did nothing. “Ned Stark dead or Jon Snow dead? Maybe it can be resurrected.”

  She laughed at his joke. There were two kinds of dead on Game of Thrones—the Ned Stark kind, where there was no question as to whether the character could come back, and the Jon Snow sort, where there was every possibility and perhaps likelihood that death wasn’t permanent. “I’m pretty sure it’s Ned Stark dead.”

  “Too bad.” He unplugged all of the cables and lifted it. “I can manage this on my own—where do you want me to put it for now?”

  “The garage is fine. Here, bring it back through the kitchen to the mudroom, where there’s a back door.” She led him toward the back of the house, then opened the exterior door for him. “Watch the steps.”

  He went down first, and she followed to open the door to the side of the garage, which was a separate building at the end of her driveway.

  “Just put it here.” She indicated the floor.

  He set it down, and they went back inside. “Give me a minute to read through these directions.” He scanned the booklet that he’d pulled from the box. “You’re setting this on the console table, right? No wall mount?”

  She shook her head. “It came with something to sit on, didn’t it?” She’d specifically looked at TVs that didn’t have to be wall mounted.

  “Yeah.” He set the stand up on the top of the black console she’d bought with the old TV. “You ready to heft this up with me?”

  “Sure.”

  They worked together to position the TV on its base.

  “Now for the hard part,” he said. “Hooking it up.”

  She heard “hooking up” at first and told herself to get her mind out of the gutter. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  He sent her a brief glance as he plugged in the TV. “Yep.”

  She didn’t really doubt it. Liam Archer was the sort of person who was good at anything he set his mind to. He was incredibly driven and ambitious. As a result, he made success look easy. Alex had told her lots of things about their sibling dynamics. She knew that Liam and Kyle were competitive and that Liam and Tori were the phenoms, both of them taking their respective careers by storm, and much more. What Alex hadn’t told her—what she’d figured out for herself—was that Liam’s drive came directly from his need to live a life that was big enough for two people: him and his identical twin.

  Just like his extreme sports. He did them for Alex, who’d spent most of his life dependent on oxygen. He’d never be able to jump out of a plane or go windsurfing. But Liam could. And by videotaping every excursion, he took Alex along for the ride. She’d wondered if he would stop when Alex had died, but if anything, he seemed to have stepped up his game, like he had with the heli-skiing.

  As she watched him separate the cables, she wondered how the accident had affected him. “What happened when you got hurt a couple months ago?”

  “I ended up on a dense trail, and I hit a tree well.” He glanced at her. “That’s where the snow around the tree is loose and usually covers a void. This was a pretty big void. I went ass over elbow and landed on my shoulder.”

  She winced. “That had to hurt like hell.”

  “It did.”

  “How’d you get off the mountain?”

  “There was a guy behind me. He radioed for ski patrol. Took them a while to get to us, but I got down eventually.” He didn’t pause in his work as he told her the story. His retelling was rather emotionless.

  She couldn’t believe it hadn’t affected him—pissed him off, at least. “That didn’t scare the crap out of you?”

  He looked up at her then. “You mean enough to not do it again?” His lips curved into a half-smile. “It was a new experience, that’s for sure. And generally speaking, I like new experiences.”

  She crossed her arms and stared at him. “That’s absurd. What is there to possibly like about dislocating your shoulder?”

  He laughed. “Nothing. But sometimes it’s good to remember that I’m fallible.”

  “What an obnoxiously arrogant thing to say.”

  He exhaled. “I know, right?”

  His tone was weary, maybe even self-deprecating, which wasn’t the Liam she knew. He was vigorous and cocksure, always one step ahead. Maybe the accident had rocked him more than he realized. Or maybe he did realize it. “Are you taking things a bit easier, then? Maybe just sticking to your motorcycle?” Like that wasn’t dangerous enough.

  He plugged in the last cable. “I had t
o take it easy while I healed, but I’m good now.” He rotated his shoulder to demonstrate. “I powered through physical therapy like a champion.”

  “Of course you did,” she muttered. He did everything like a champion, damn him.

  He flicked her a curious glance but didn’t say anything. At least not about her snarky comment. “I did a jump the other day, so I’d say I’m back to normal.”

  He’d been skydiving already? “Maybe you should take it easy for a while. As you so accurately put it, you aren’t infallible.”

  “You worried about me?”

  “As someone who cares about your family, yes. You should care about them, too. They worry.”

  His brow furrowed. “Did someone say something?”

  Yikes. She was not going to throw his mom under the bus. “No. I’m just . . . I just care.”

  His features relaxed. “That’s good to know.” He turned the TV on and looked around. “Remote?”

  She found it on the end table next to the couch and handed it to him.

  He flicked through some channels. Naturally, he’d hooked it up perfectly.

  “Were you a cable guy in a past life?”

  He laughed. “I didn’t actually hook up your cable, just connected the box to the TV. It’s not that hard.”

  Easy for him to say. Aubrey was pretty good with electronics but admitted that she found computers easier to deal with than things like televisions or appliances. God forbid her dishwasher crapped out.

  He turned the TV off. “I guess my work here is done.” Did he sound disappointed?

  She couldn’t invite him to stay. She wouldn’t. “Yep. Thanks again.”

  He handed her back the remote, and this time his fingers grazed her palm. Her entire body jolted with lust. “Why don’t you come skydiving with me? You’d have a great time.”

  Wait, what? He was inviting her to do something else with him?

  “Falling isn’t really my thing.” She suppressed a shudder. When she thought of him free-falling from ten thousand feet or however high up they went, she felt queasy.

  “Okay, how about a ride on my bike instead? That’s not high, and there’s no falling.”

  “There is if you crash!” She smiled as she said this, realizing she sounded paranoid and doing it on purpose.

  He laughed. “I won’t. I’ll take it easy with you on board. I would hate myself if you got hurt.” His blue-gray gaze pierced into hers, and the pull to invite him to stay for dinner—hell, the night—was almost overwhelming.

  “I’ll think about it.” She set the remote back on the table. “You’re full of surprising invitations today.” This was a thoughtful, considerate Liam—the man she’d spent Labor Day weekend with.

  “Maybe I’m just looking for the right one to get you to say yes.”

  Damn, he was saying all the right things. Things that were weakening her resolve when it came to keeping him in the Friend Zone. Friends? She’d already decided they weren’t friends, but today sure felt like it.

  He broke the devastating eye contact and went to the porch, where he picked up his coat. The day was warm, but he shrugged it on because it was likely chillier as he rode his bike. That, and it provided protection, she supposed. Not that he would fall.

  “I’ll come tomorrow night. Will that satisfy you?” She hadn’t meant the question to sound provocative, and maybe it only did to her ears.

  His gaze did a slow perusal of her from head to toe. Nope, it had sounded provocative to him, too. “If you think that would satisfy me, you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Knock it off. Flirting will get you nowhere.” That was a bald-faced lie, but she wasn’t going to succumb. She didn’t want to be his Ribbon Ridge girl. She wanted more than that, and he wasn’t the one who would give it to her.

  He walked to the end of the porch, and she couldn’t keep herself from appreciating the view again. He went down the stairs to the driveway and climbed onto his bike, picking up the helmet first. “You sure you don’t want to come for a ride?”

  She’d followed him to the end of the porch but stayed at the top of the stairs. She crossed her arms and leaned against the post. “I don’t see a helmet.”

  He glanced at the small seat behind where he was perched. “You have a point. I’ll have to rectify that.”

  “Don’t, because then I won’t have an excuse.” And she needed an excuse.

  His eyes sparkled as his lips curved into a seductive smile. “I’ll remember that.” He gave her a full-on toe-curling grin before putting his helmet on.

  As she watched him go, she had the sense she was still in way over her head, despite her valiant efforts to swim to shore.

  LIAM STEPPED INTO the kitchen from the back hall. He’d just showered after taking an afternoon bicycle ride with Dad. It was the one sport at which Dad could easily smoke any of his children, but then he’d been cycling since college. Liam credited his Dad’s dedication to and love of the sport as having instilled a sense of athleticism and physical drive in his kids.

  “There you are,” Dad said as Liam walked toward the beer bar, where Dad was lording over the tap as usual. “Did I wear you out?”

  “It’ll take more than eighteen miles to wear me out. I run marathons, remember?”

  “That’s crap,” Tori said, joining them. “When’s the last time you ran an actual marathon?” Tori was the runner in the family, but Liam kept up pretty good.

  “Just because I don’t do as many races as you doesn’t mean I can’t. I’m busy doing other stuff.”

  She arched a brow at him as she raised her pint glass. “Like trying to kill yourself jumping out of airplanes?”

  Liam thought of his conversation with Aubrey yesterday. He began to doubt Aubrey’s response that no one had talked to her about his hobbies. But he didn’t care. It wasn’t any of their business. Consequently, he ignored Tori’s question—not that it was a legitimate question instead of a gibe. He looked at Dad behind the bar. “What’s on tap?”

  “My newest IPA. It’s a red.” He pulled a pint and handed it to Liam. “Let me know what you think.”

  Liam sampled the brew and clacked the glass down onto the granite counter. “So freaking good. When the hell are you going to bottle this?”

  Dad shrugged. “You know that’s never been my priority.”

  “Wait, that wasn’t a flat no.” Liam looked at Tori. “You heard that, right?”

  She nodded. “I did. Dad, are you actually thinking about it?”

  Dad gave them both his best fatherly stare. “No comment.”

  Tori grinned and looked between Dad and Liam. “First Liam comes home, and now Dad’s considering bottling. I’m afraid to look outside for fear I might see the four riders of the apocalypse that Kyle glimpsed last weekend.”

  “Nope, just Aubrey,” Derek said as he guided Aubrey toward the bar. “I found her outside loitering by the back door.”

  She smiled a bit tentatively. “I wasn’t sure if I should come in that way. Your mom has invited me to, but . . . I don’t know, it just feels weird to let myself in.”

  “It shouldn’t. You ought to be a de facto Archer, like Derek here,” Tori said.

  Aubrey looked surprised and maybe a bit horrified. “Well, maybe not like Derek,” she said. “He’s actually a member of your family and has been for at least a decade, right?”

  “That’s about right,” Derek said. “Someone has to bring some normalcy to this crazy group.”

  Tori snorted. “You bring as much crazy to the table as any of us.”

  “True.” Derek laughed. “It’s what makes me fit in.”

  Aubrey looked between them. “Another reason I can’t join the club. I’m afraid I don’t have any crazy to add. I’m just boring Aubrey.”

  “I wouldn’t call you boring,” Liam said softly. “I call BS. Everyone has crazy. You’re just very good at hiding it.” He looked at her intently, as if he could discern the secrets he was sure s
he had. Why did he suddenly want to know them? And everything else about her?

  “Dish up!” Kyle called from the other side of the kitchen. “Show’s on in thirty!”

  Everyone headed over to the other bar, where several pizzas were laid out. Everyone except Dad, who looked at Aubrey. “Can I get you a beer? It’s an IPA. Red, to be specific.” He smiled. “Like your hair.”

  Like her hair. Liam loved her hair. When he’d first met her, it had been shorter, but he liked its current length. He imagined it splayed over his ivory sheets and started to sport wood. Get a grip, Archer. Your dad is right there.

  “I love IPA, thanks,” she said. She tugged her light raincoat off. “Can I hang this somewhere?”

  Liam took it from her fingers. “I’ve got it.” He went to the hallway where there were hooks, most of which were marked with one of the Archer kids’ names. He hung it on his hook.

  When he returned to the kitchen, Aubrey and Dad had joined the others, who were serving up the varieties of pizza. There was barbecued chicken, a pesto base with chicken, a meat-lovers, a veggie-lovers, and a couple of what Dylan was currently calling “foo-foo” recipes.

  “Goat cheese is foo-foo?” Sara asked her fiancé. “I love goat cheese.”

  “And you are completely foo-foo. I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Dylan smiled down at her before giving her a fast kiss.

  Being home had been eye-opening for Liam. He hadn’t realized how pretty much everyone in the family was in love and had settled down. Only he and Hayden were single, and Hayden had a girlfriend in France, so really it was only Liam. It made him feel . . . strange.

  He’d never wanted a long-term relationship. He didn’t like the sense of having to be somewhere or do something with someone. He didn’t want to have to plan his holidays or sports trips around someone else. Some—including his family—might say it sounded lonely, but he was happy. Or he had been until Alex had decided to pull the biggest dick move ever and off himself. Thinking of that still made Liam so angry. He ought to have progressed to another stage of grief, and he had on occasion, but mostly he was just mad.

  He waited until everyone had their pizza and had sat at the table, leaving just him and Kyle, who usually served himself last.