by Darcy Burke
She kept her head down and stared at a panel on the garage door several feet away. “I’m not in a hurry, but while I’m having a good time with someone like you, Mr. Right could be right in front of me.”
“Like Stuart,” he said softly, his breath warm against her skin.
No, not like Stuart. She’d bet he wasn’t Mr. Right. But then, neither was Liam. She tipped her head up, and their gazes connected. The night was cold, but she didn’t feel it just then. All she felt was the heat of his stare and the need in her soul. A need he couldn’t fulfill.
He pulled away. “I get it. Stuart’s a lucky guy.”
No, Stuart was probably going to get his hopes dashed, but she didn’t want to think about that right now.
“Good night, Liam.” She climbed into her car and drove away. Though she didn’t look, she knew he watched her go.
LIAM SPENT MOST of Monday closeted in his bedroom, focused on his real-estate business in Denver. He owned several commercial buildings and was in the process of buying another. Unfortunately, they’d discovered a problem with the structure, and Liam was weighing whether to go through with it. With its prime location, the space could be a huge moneymaker in the future, but if the mold they’d found beneath the floorboards of the former gym was toxic, it would be a money pit. For now, he’d put the deal on hold while they awaited the findings on the mold.
On Tuesday, he decided it was past time to visit the Archer Enterprises headquarters, where Dad, Derek, Evan, and even Kyle worked. That Kyle had come home a year ago and taken over as COO still stumped Liam. He hadn’t thought Kyle had it in him to not just do the job but commit to it. Granted, it was temporary, but Kyle had acquitted himself well, and though he’d once been the outsider, the black sheep, Liam began to realize that role was now his.
Maybe he wasn’t a black sheep exactly, but he was definitely an outsider. It was a role he’d cultivated and been quite content with. But now that he was home, he felt the distance in a way he never had—it was more than just mileage, like when he was in Denver and everyone was here. He was here now, and he still sensed the separation. They were all engaged to be married, all a part of something—of the family—in ways that he wasn’t.
He parked his bike at the building and marveled at what his father had built. Well, his father and his father’s father and his grandfather’s father on down to the founding father of Ribbon Ridge. They’d all been real-estate tycoons in their own right. All but Dad, who was far happier brewing beer. He’d kept up the real-estate side of the business after his younger brother had up and left town, but he hadn’t really grown it like Liam would’ve done.
Liam carried his helmet into the building with him. He hadn’t been here in years. Since before Alex had died. There it was again, measuring everything in befores and afters.
He shook his head as he climbed the staircase up to the second floor, where the executive offices were located. It was lunchtime, so he wasn’t surprised to see that Dad’s secretary wasn’t at her desk. The other admin desk was occupied by a young man who was probably right out of college.
“Hi, is anyone around?” Liam asked.
The guy cocked his head to the side. “Besides me, you mean?”
Liam chuckled. “Yeah, besides you. Sorry, I’m Liam Archer.”
The kid’s eyes widened, and he shot out of his chair. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize. I’m just a temp.”
Liam knew they’d lost Derek and Kyle’s former assistant last summer, but he hadn’t realized they hadn’t hired a permanent replacement. He tried not to think of the entire situation, because it made his blood boil. The woman had sold Alex the drugs he’d used to commit suicide and was now serving time for drug dealing. Kyle had found her out. It was yet another way in which Kyle had more than redeemed himself, while Liam stayed away.
Maybe his anger should be directed at himself as much as anyone else. Sure, why not? He’d lived with guilt and a varying degree of self-loathing his entire life. Why stop now?
“It’s fine,” Liam said. “I’m just going to wander around a bit.” He glanced toward his dad’s closed office door and Kyle’s closed office door. The next door, Derek’s, was open. Liam walked over to it and looked inside. Empty.
He continued along the corridor, passing a long conference room with glass walls and a spectacular view over the valley. He had to admit he missed the way Ribbon Ridge looked. Colorado was beautiful and suited his lifestyle, but so did Oregon, which was equally, if not more, breathtaking.
He passed the conference room and came to another closed office door. The name beside it read Evan Archer, Chief Creative Officer. That had been Alex’s job. Evan had secretly obtained it last fall while posing as an independent contracting firm. He hadn’t wanted to apply as himself for fear the family wouldn’t accept him as a creative professional. Plus, he hadn’t wanted to usurp Alex’s position.
Liam understood that fear, and an irrational part of him wished Evan hadn’t usurped it. This was Alex’s job, Alex’s place. But hadn’t Alex surrendered any claims when he’d killed himself?
He absolutely had.
The familiar anger roiled in Liam’s belly. He opened the door and stepped inside. The only thing that was the same was the view. Could Liam blame Evan for changing the furniture? No. Just like he couldn’t blame him for taking the job, for wanting the job. From everything he’d seen and heard, he was great at it. Better even than Alex had been. A sharp pain, like regret, cut through Liam’s anger.
He moved inside and noted the tidy, organized desk. There was one picture of a smiling Evan and Alaina. They stood together at a winery up in the hills, with the panorama of the valley behind them. Liam felt a surge of joy and pride for Evan that he’d found happiness and connection. He’d found his place.
“Hey, Liam.” Dad’s voice sliced into his thoughts, and Liam was grateful for the interruption. Being home had turned him into a maudlin son of a bitch. “Troy said you were here. What brings you by?”
Liam turned, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Just thought I should come in and check things out. You wanted me to, right?” Dad had urged him to stop in as soon as he’d announced he was hanging out in Ribbon Ridge for a while.
Dad nodded. “Of course. I’m glad you did. You get things sorted out back in Denver?”
He’d told Dad about the mold problem last night at dinner. “Not yet. I had to order some testing this morning. We’ll see what happens.” He felt strangely removed from the whole project, which was odd. He was usually right in the thick of everything. He loved his job, thrived on solving problems and closing major deals. Maybe it was just because he was so far away. Maybe he’d made a mistake in deciding to stay. He could still help with the zoning from Denver. In this day and age, just about everything could be done remotely.
“Is this weird?” Dad’s quiet question startled him, but Liam knew exactly what he meant.
“The office looks different. But it looks good. It almost seems like things are the way they’re supposed to be.” His throat felt tight, and he wished he hadn’t said that out loud.
“I know what you mean.” Dad coughed. “The more things settle into a new rhythm, the more helpless I feel. Like what was the point if he wasn’t going to be here? Why did he survive when you were all born, if he really wasn’t meant to be?”
Liam stared at his dad. They didn’t talk about this sort of thing. Raw feelings and true confessions weren’t his forte. But he also couldn’t walk away, not when he felt the same sense of unease, of frustration. “Because he was meant to be. He’s the one who decided he wasn’t.”
“And yet you can’t deny the wonderful things it’s brought about. Sara came home and found Dylan, Kyle came home and, geez, completely turned his life around. I can’t imagine where he’d be right now if Alex’s death hadn’t triggered him to make some changes.” Dad walked over to the window and looked out, his back to Liam. “I do blame him for Tori. She was so messed up last year. Alex completely derail
ed her life.” Dad turned. “Did he do the same to you? I don’t know . . . I have no idea how you’ve coped with any of it. You haven’t been here. You haven’t said.”
“I . . . I’ve managed.” That was all Liam could say. The guilt, the anger . . . Those were things he couldn’t share. And may never.
Dad put his hands in his pockets. “Did you know Alex called your sister the night before he did it? That was when she’d married Sean in Vegas.”
Such shit timing for them. “Tori told me.” What no one knew—and never would—was that Alex had called Liam, too. Only Liam had answered. That conversation was burned into his brain, and yet he’d kept himself from thinking of it for going on fourteen months now. He wasn’t going to dredge it up.
Dad exhaled and looked at the floor. “She felt so guilty for missing the call. I can’t imagine. Well, yes I can.” He looked up, and there was torment in his gaze—a torment Liam knew only too well. “We all feel guilty. I know I do. But we can’t. You were right to be angry with him. I was, too, for a long time. Sometimes I still am, but I’m learning to forgive. Have you?”
Forgive? That word hadn’t even entered Liam’s mind until this moment. “I’ll be honest, Dad, I try not to think about it. What’s the point?”
Dad frowned. “I did that, too. It drove a wedge between your mother and me. She was overwhelmed with grief, while I just pushed it away. You have to deal with it, son.”
Liam transferred his helmet to his other arm and glanced at the ceiling. “I have. But you know me. I keep my eye on the prize.”
Dad’s frown only deepened. “Yes, I know. That’s why I brought this up. You don’t spend time on relationships. Not with women, not with your family. Yet, here you are, and I wondered if you might be ready for a change. Like your siblings.”
Where was this going? “Do you have something specific you want to talk to me about?”
Dad pulled his hands from his pockets and took a couple of steps forward. “I do. I’ve always held out hope you might come back some day, that you might take over the real-estate portion of the business.”
“I’ve never wanted it, not when you talked to me about it after college and not now.” What he said was true, but Liam couldn’t deny that for the first time, there was an appeal. Doing what he loved here in Ribbon Ridge. Taking this century-plus-old family business and turning it into something really phenomenal. He’d wanted to build something from nothing—that’s why he’d said no after college. But he’d done that. Maybe it was time to shift his focus, take on a new challenge.
Dad sighed. “I know. I just hoped . . . The real estate has never been my passion. It’s yours. If Alex’s death gave me anything positive it was the desire to simplify my life and focus on the things that matter to me most.”
Liam read between the lines. “You want to step back from Archer?”
“Maybe.” Dad shrugged. “I’m mulling the bottling business—but don’t say anything to anyone else yet. I don’t want to do the day-to-day anymore. Derek can do it.” He looked at Liam intently. “That won’t bother you, will it?”
Liam shook his head. “Not at all. Derek’s brilliant, and he’ll do a great job.”
“But he’s not a real-estate guy,” Dad said. “You could run that entire division. Kyle’s going to leave as soon as the restaurant is ready to open. Plus, he’s got this burgeoning career as a celebrity chef, it seems.”
Liam had picked up on that. He’d won a competitive cooking show, and Sean was producing a series about Kyle’s restaurant with Kyle starring. The other day, Kyle had mentioned guest hosting some other cooking show. He was ideally suited for all of that with his effortless charm and approachability. Everyone liked Kyle, and they liked his food even more.
“What about Hayden?” Liam asked. Interning at the winery in France had been a dream come true for him. His internship would be over in July, and he hadn’t shared his future plans.
“I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I can’t see him returning to Archer, even if he does come home. He was great at his job, but I’m not sure he was ever truly happy. I think he only stayed because no one else did—to be here for me.”
Liam wanted to take issue with that. He wasn’t going to feel guilty for pursuing his career and his goals because Hayden hadn’t had the balls to go after his. Wait, is that how Liam really felt? That wasn’t fair of him.
“Was that important to you?” Liam asked softly, hating this conversation. Dad had been right when he’d said that Liam didn’t spend time on relationships. Too complicated and hard to manage. He preferred things he could control. “Did you need him to stay?”
“Need?” Dad shook his head. “No. But I wanted him to. I wanted all of you to stay. We’re a family and the only Archers left in Ribbon Ridge. I’d hate to see us die out.”
Liam laughed at that. “Uh, you had seven kids. I think you single-handedly saw to it that we wouldn’t.”
Dad joined in his laughter. “And there’s already a grandkid on the way.” His eyes widened briefly, and he whistled between his teeth. “I still can’t get my head around that. And I can’t believe it’s Evan, of all people. My money was on Tori.”
“I think everyone’s money was on Tori. She was always the little mother, and she did get married first.”
“Well, the only thing that would surprise me more than Evan becoming the first parent would be if you settled down,” Dad said wryly.
“Ha, don’t count on it.”
Dad came forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “I know. So that’s a no on coming back and overseeing real estate?”
Liam hated disappointing his dad, but he’d chosen to leave Ribbon Ridge, and he hadn’t looked back. “That’s a no.”
Dad exhaled softly and nodded. He made to leave, but Liam stopped him. “Dad, thanks. You’ve always been supportive and understanding, and I appreciate it.”
“Of course, son.” Dad flashed him a smile, then left.
Liam looked around the office and was pleased to find the sense of discomfort had gone. This was Evan’s place now. He walked out and closed the door behind him.
For some reason, Dad’s offer resonated in Liam’s brain. It was tempting, he had to admit, but he couldn’t come back to Ribbon Ridge. He could maybe manage the division from Denver though, right? He’d been saving to buy a plane. He could fly himself back and forth.
Maybe Aubrey would fly with him, since she wouldn’t jump. Wait, Aubrey? When had his brain transferred over to her? He realized she’d been there the whole time, just underneath the surface. He’d thought of her dozens of times yesterday, hating how Sunday night had gone. Then, outside, he’d nearly kissed her. He’d wanted to. If he could go back, he would.
Or not. She’d been justifiably mad at him.
He stalked out of the office building to his bike. His gaze fell on the seat behind his. Yes, he needed another helmet so she could ride with him. But the helmet is no guarantee she’ll do it.
Still, he wanted to try. Whatever had happened between them, he liked her. He’d liked helping with her TV, and he’d liked having her over at the house. They could be friends, right? So he didn’t typically have women friends. Maybe that was the change he was feeling. Maybe it was time he had a woman friend.
And he couldn’t think of a better one than Aubrey.
Chapter Seven
AUBREY WAS GLAD she was so busy with work, because it meant she didn’t have to lie when she’d invited Stuart over for a glass of wine at eight o’clock instead of for dinner due to having to work late. A glass of wine was a much better—and shorter—occasion over which to tell someone that you wanted to just be friends.
“Red or white?” she asked as Stuart sat on one of the stools at her kitchen island.
“Red, please.” So polite.
She pulled a bottle of red from the small decorative rack on the wall and brought it to the island.
“Want me to open that?” he offered.
“Sure.”
She pulled a corkscrew from the drawer and slid the tool and the bottle toward him. Then she turned to grab a couple of glasses from the cabinet. As she pulled one off the shelf, it slipped from her fingers. She just managed to catch it before it hit the granite and splintered into a thousand shards.
Ugh, she was nervous. Why couldn’t she like Stuart enough? He had a great job, a fantastic sense of humor, and respectable, normal hobbies like playing racquetball and hiking. And he looked great with a beard, which couldn’t be said of all men. Liam looked freaking fantastic with three or four days of stubble. By the end of the concert weekend last Labor Day, he’d looked scrumptiously scruffy.
Scrumptiously scruffy?
She inwardly groaned as she headed back to the island with the glasses.
Stuart slid the bottle toward her. “I’ll let you pour.”
She splashed the garnet liquid into the glasses and summoned her courage. “We’re friends, right?”
Stuart picked up his glass. “I think so.”
She tapped her glass against his. “To friendship.”
He drank, then his lips twisted into a frown. “Why don’t I like the sound of where this is going?”
She exhaled and set her glass on the counter, then braced her hands against the edge. “I thought I should be clear with you—I don’t see us as more than friends. You’re a great guy, just not my great guy.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
He nodded slowly. “I’d say ouch, but I can’t say I’m surprised. We’ve been on a half dozen dates and only kissed a few times. While they were nice kisses, they didn’t set off any fireworks. At least for me,” he added with an apologetic smile.
“I’ll say ouch!” She laughed, feeling so much better about this than she had even thirty seconds ago. Nevertheless, that didn’t make his take on their kisses go down any easier. Which was stupid, because she couldn’t disagree. “See, you’re a super great guy.”
