Hold Me (Ribbon Ridge #7)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

H ayden stopped short as he walked out of his room. Bex stood in the middle of the hallway wearing Bermuda-length ripstop shorts and a yellow T-shirt sporting a beer logo. Her dark hair was swept into a ponytail while her pale green eyes stared at him, unblinking.

He swallowed the compliment that sprang to his lips. What good could come of him telling her she looked amazing? “Are you just getting in?” he called down the hallway.

She smiled. “Your mother asked me the same thing.”

He walked toward her. “She did?”

“We had dinner together downstairs. Rather, I had dinner and she had ice cream.”

“Mmm, ice cream sounds pretty good. I was just going to head down for a snack.”

He wondered what they’d talked about, but decided he was better off not knowing in case it was him. There was something unsettling about being the topic of conversation between your mother and ex-girlfriend.

“You start at the brewhouse today?” he asked. He’d spent the day on a variety of errands and on starting the process of selling his house to Kyle and Maggie. They’d offered to give him back the entire contents, but he didn’t want most of it back. He wanted his wine collection and a few odds and ends, but they could keep the furniture and décor. He idly wondered if he should ask Bex if she wanted any of it, but figured she’d already taken what little she’d wanted when she’d left.

She nodded in answer to his question. “Just getting organized and stuff. I can hardly wait to start brewing tomorrow. I imagine you feel the same way about getting back to France and making wine.”

He had been, but since last night’s dinner with Cam and his brothers he’d been thinking more and more about starting a winery with them.

She put her hands behind her back and leaned against the doorframe. “What are you up to while you’re home?”

“Not much, really.” It was strange to be here and not have work to do. Kyle had taken over his job as COO at Archer until last month when he’d relinquished his duties so he could focus on The Arch and Fox and his burgeoning reality show chef career. “Tomorrow I’m heading up to The Alex. Next week I’ll probably spend some time at Archer Enterprises to see what’s up with the transition. You heard all about that, right?”

“I think so. Your dad’s splitting the brewing into a separate company now that he’s going to bottle, and Derek’s running that, right?”

“Yeah. Dad says he’s going to semiretire.”

She tipped her head to the side and her ponytail grazed her shoulder. “You don’t believe him?”

Hayden shrugged. “I think he wants to do that, but we’ll see if he can. He’s pretty passionate about his beer.”

She smiled, revealing the dimples he’d loved so much. “I know. But this will free him up to actually brew more, especially here at home.”

Dad had an incredible microbrewery on the ground floor, which he kept pretty busy with home brew. “Yeah, just when I think he can’t possibly come up with new varieties, he does.”

“Isn’t it the same way with wine? Can’t you think of a thousand ways to blend it?”

He blew out a breath. “I don’t know about a thousand, but a lot, yeah.”

“I’m so happy for you, that you’ve found your place.”

Did she mean his place was halfway around the world while everyone else, including her, called Ribbon Ridge home? That was absurd. She meant he’d found his calling. Or something like that.

“Thanks,” he said. “You, too. Funny that it’s back here in Ribbon Ridge, though, right?”

“Yeah. The timing was just right, I guess. Everyone’s been so welcoming.” She gave him a look that seemed to hint at gratitude, as if to thank him for being cool with it, too.

And he was cool with it. In fact, this conversation was surprisingly normal for a couple with their history. It felt good to be able to do this. It meant he really was over her.

“It’s different, isn’t it?” he asked. “Everyone’s married or getting married. Weird.”

She laughed softly, and the sound heated dormant places inside him. Places he chose to ignore just now. “Is it weird?”

“Totally. I was the Ribbon Ridge guy with the live-in girlfriend. And now it’s like Opposite Land.”

Her laugh was stronger this time. “You’re right. On all counts. I can’t believe Liam’s engaged or that Evan’s going to be a dad.” She gave her head a quick shake. “He and Alaina are the craziest pairing. If you’d told me he would end up with a famous actress, I would’ve bet my annual salary against it.”

Now he chuckled. “No kidding. On paper they make absolutely no sense, but in reality, they’re perfect for each other.”

“I guess you just never know what will stick and what won’t.” Their gazes connected for a moment, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—they were supposed to stick. That was something everyone would’ve bet on. Yet, they’d fallen apart.

“Sean told me he might film you brewing. Has he talked to you about that?”

“Very briefly. We’re going to talk more about it after the wedding.” She looked down at the carpet and drew a shape with her big toe. “I’m not sure if I want to be on film. It’s a little strange, right?”

“Yes, and I speak from experience.”

Her lips curved into a smile, and once again her outrageously cute dimples peeked out. “Of course you do. If I decide to do it, do you have any tips?”

He thought back to the show they’d done as kids— Seven is Enough . The show had focused on the sextuplets, but Hayden had made them the seven. That he’d come as a surprise after his parents had undergone so many fertility treatments had been a recurring theme. As if he could ever forget that he wasn’t one of the core six, the ones his parents had wanted more than anything. It wasn’t that they purposely made him feel left out, he just was . “I don’t think I can tell you anything helpful, sorry. Just hit your mark.”

She looked at him in confusion.

“When they tell you where to stand for the camera shot, be sure to get it right or they’ll have to shoot it again. That can make them cranky.” At least that had been his experience. “Ask Kyle about it—he was always the star of the show, and look at him now.”

She nodded. “Good idea.”

They fell silent, and Hayden figured they’d run out of safe, mundane topics. Time to go before he said something stupid like, “What did you and my mom talk about over dinner?”

She pushed away from the doorframe. “I’m going to hit the shower and then maybe watch an episode of Sherlock . I just started it recently, and it’s very addictive. Do you watch it?”

He shook his head. “I have, but not in a long time. I haven’t been watching much TV the past year. Too busy.”

“I can imagine. It must be cool to experience another culture like that. How’s your French?”

He grinned at her. “Trés bon.”

“Now, that’s sexy.” She sounded playful, joking, but there was something in her gaze that rekindled a desire he preferred to suppress.

And just like that they were on the edge of the danger zone. This shouldn’t be possible. She’d dumped him and never looked back. He’d finally moved on. What was this—residual attraction?

“Enjoy your show. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned and headed for the back stairs.

Knowing she was a short walk from his bedroom gave him all sorts of inappropriate ideas. So he wasn’t in a committed relationship. That didn’t mean he wanted to take up with the woman who’d broken his heart.

He frowned, growing angry with himself for forgetting, even for fifteen minutes, what she’d put him through. He walked into the kitchen and poured a beer.

He exhaled and let his ire fade. It wasn’t fair of him to put all the blame on her. He’d caused that damn accident, and if he hadn’t, she never would’ve left. The baby would’ve kept them together. Maybe. But then Hayden wouldn’t be where he was today, making wine, following his own path.

He just wished he knew where that path was leading. Fantasizing about that winery with the Westcotts had made him second-guess his desire to stay in France. He’d spent the evening researching winemaking facilities and thinking about how a year from now he could be watching his first vintage grow fat on the vine.

It was tempting as hell. Just like the woman upstairs.

Bex’s first batch of beer for the day, an IPA, was already in the fermentation tank. Next up, she planned to make a blonde ale and add some loganberry puree.

Last night’s almost-platonic conversation with Hayden had made her feel good about taking this job, especially after talking with Emily, who clearly hoped she and Hayden still had a chance. But they didn’t. As soon as things had gotten the teensiest bit flirty—thanks to her inability to keep her mouth shut after he’d spoken French—he’d bailed. Who knew two little words uttered in a foreign language could be so unbelievably sexy? It wasn’t like he’d said anything flirty. Her French was practically nonexistent, but she knew he’d just said, “very good.” As in he’d learned to speak French quite well.

Even though she’d only heard him say two words, she didn’t doubt his skill for a second. One thing about Hayden, when he put himself into something, he went all in—heart and soul.

How had she turned her back on that? More important, why?

Because she’d been young and shortsighted and emotionally stunted. Hopefully she was making progress on the latter. Her conversation with Emily had shown her that she was at least more open to a closer relationship, not that she ought to pursue that with her ex’s family.

Bex hefted the bag of barley to carry it to the mash tun. It was heavy and bulky, and she adjusted her hold to lift it higher. But it was too much and she dropped it, splitting the bag so that barley scattered all over the floor.

She put her hands on her hips and stared at the mess all over her gorgeous brewery floor. “Hell’s bells.”

Laughter reached her ears, and she recognized it immediately. She mock-glared at him over the mash tun. “Hayden, are you laughing at me?”

He walked toward her, his expression amused. “You still say that.”

She was momentarily confused then realized what he meant. Hell’s bells. She’d said it her whole life. She’d heard it somewhere and decided to try it out at school one day. Her kindergarten teacher hadn’t been impressed, but when she’d called Bex’s parents to inform them of their daughter’s misconduct, they’d found it cute. From then on, she’d had permission to say pretty much anything she wanted at home. It was one of the many ways in which they’d allowed Bex to steer her own ship.

“Of course I do. It’s my signature phrase.”

He chuckled and looked around at the barley littering the floor. “What happened here?”

“I’m trying a new decorative scheme. You don’t like it?”

He laughed again. “No, it’s great. But since you’re making beer, you should add some hops.”

She couldn’t keep from smiling anymore. “Good idea.”

His eyes glinted with humor as he looked at her. “You want some help cleaning this up?”

“Sure, but I don’t want to interrupt whatever you’re doing.”

“You’re not interrupting anything. I was just helping Kyle with the wine cellar. The sommelier he hired decided to take a different job, so Kyle’s scrambling.”

That must’ve been the reason for Kyle’s yelling that morning. The door to the corridor leading to the kitchen had been open, and she’d heard him swearing. “Good thing you’re here—at least for a while.” She went to the corner and took a broom from a hook then handed it to him.

He started sweeping. “Yeah, it feels good to be needed.”

Did he not feel needed? She knew he often felt like the odd man out in his crazy family. He’d opened up to her about it on several occasions, but it always seemed as if he held something back. Every time, he’d ended the conversation saying he was just being oversensitive or that it wasn’t really that big of a deal. Looking back, she probably should’ve pressed him about it, but she’d been the last person who would’ve asked for more details, especially of the emotional variety.

Bex grabbed a second broom. “You kept the home fires burning for years while they were all gone. Of course they need you.”

He moved around the mash tun as he swept. “Eh, I don’t know. When I left for France, they managed to make do.”

She didn’t quite believe him. “Wait, Kyle took over for you as COO. He can’t have just stepped into that job.”

“He had to, but yeah, I gave him a long-distance hand.”

Bex concentrated on sweeping the outliers toward Hayden’s pile. “Sounds like you were needed to me.”

“I was, but he picked things up pretty quickly. I’ve just missed being a part of The Alex.” He paused to look at her. “But I knew moving to France would take me out of it. I can’t regret that decision.” He went back to sweeping.

She wanted to say something about not having regrets and about making tough decisions, but knew it would sound like she was justifying why she’d left five years ago. Best to leave that alone. “No regrets is a good policy.”

He cast her a quick look, maybe trying to determine if she had regrets. Before coming back to Ribbon Ridge, she would’ve said she didn’t—well, very few—but now she’d have a different answer. No, that was stupid. She couldn’t regret the choices she’d made because they’d all led her to right here. And she was exactly where she wanted to be: sweeping up barley from the floor of her brewery.

“This good enough?” he asked, sweeping the last of it into a pile.

She grabbed a dustpan and knelt while he swept it into the pan. “Looks great.”

When it was full, he looked around. “Garbage?”

She nodded toward the corner. “Over there.”

He went and brought the can over for her to dump the dustpan. Then he grabbed the broom and swept more into the pan. They did this several times until the floor was clean.

He scooted the garbage can back to the corner. “So I guess you have to start over?”

She hung up the broom and dustpan. “Just that part, so while it’s a loss of ingredients, it’s fixable. Not like if you lost a bunch of grapes.”

“Yeah, that would be catastrophic. Or not. If the wine turned out to be really good and the quantity was lower, we could just charge more.”

She smiled over at him. “Good point.”

“You want help with this?” he asked, looking around the brewery.

She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t know. A winemaker in a brewery?”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many batches of beer I’ve brewed? My siblings and I were home brewing our own stuff at fifteen.”

She’d known that of course. “I always wondered why none of you wanted to take over for your dad.”

“For a while, we thought Liam might, but he was bored with it by the time we were out of high school. He likes negotiating too much. He probably should’ve been a lawyer. Except I think he makes more money from real estate.”

“And now he’s marrying a lawyer, so he can still armchair quarterback.”

“Ha! Somehow, I doubt Aubrey will put up with that. It’s one thing for him to provide input when we were fighting the zoning appeal, but I think she’d probably give him the smackdown any other time.”

Bex laughed. “The fact that any woman can give Liam the smackdown is awesome.”

“Right? When Kyle turned out to be such a good cook, Dad asked if he wanted to brew instead of go to culinary school. Kyle said he’d think about it while he started classes, but I’m pretty sure the chef bug bit him hard and fast. Beer didn’t stand a chance.”

Bex shook her head. “Your poor dad.”

His eyes glinted with humor. “Why do you think he was so excited when we were dating? You were his only hope.”

She laughed but then felt a pang of that nasty emotion again—regret.

“Sorry, I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s fine.” She went over to the stack of barley-filled bags. “You really want to help?”

He followed her. “I offered, didn’t I?”

Yes, and in her experience, he was a man of his word. “I had trouble carrying this bag over to the hopper.”

He picked the top one off the pile and hefted it. “Too heavy?”

“Too awkward.”

He carried it over to the mill on the mash tun, where she opened the corner of the bag, and he poured it in. “What are you going to do when I’m not around?”

Feel bereft? Be eaten alive with regret? She was beginning to hate that word and decided to try to banish it from her vocabulary.

She turned the mill on. “I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

“I never worry about you, Bex. If there was a woman who didn’t need anyone, it’s you.”

He had to mean that as a compliment, right? Except he knew her better than maybe anybody, and one of their points of conflict had been her acute independence. “I need people,” she said, sounding kind of lame.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way, you know.”

She took the empty bag to the garbage. “I know.” It was still nice for him to clarify that. “But I get what you’re saying. I’ve mellowed a bit in the past five years. I’m more likely to ask for help than I was.”

He laughed softly. “I find that surprising, but I guess we all change. I figured you had to have changed to come back here. You were so gung-ho to leave.”

Did he really want to go there? She supposed they had to at some point, but they could keep things pleasant and reflective. It would be good for their friendship. “I was, and I won’t say I didn’t have second thoughts about coming back now. So far, though, it seems to be the right decision.” Did he hear the uncertainty in her voice? She hoped not.

“I’m glad. I hope I’ve made the right decision for me.”

Her pulse quickened at the thought of him staying. How in the hell would she manage her inconvenient feelings then? “About going back to France?” She thought of Emily and how thrilled she’d be to hear that he was having second thoughts.

He hesitated. “Not really. It’s just my family. They’d like me to stay. And I have missed them.”

“Your mom would be ecstatic if you decided to stay.” And I wouldn’t mind either.

“I should head out,” Hayden said, ignoring her comment. “I’m meeting my dad for lunch over at Archer, and I need to swing into town to pick up sandwiches from Barley and Bran. Have you been back there yet? They have new owners since you were in town.”

“Yeah, I went there on my first day to have lunch, and I was so disappointed that their menu was different.” She laughed. “My bad for expecting that nothing would change in five years.”

And here she was five years older, feeling the same attraction toward this man. Only it wasn’t the same. There was something different about this. Something she longed to explore, thinking it could be deeper and better than what they’d had before. But she wouldn’t. Not unless he put up a flashing bright green light. Somehow she didn’t see that happening, especially since he wouldn’t even be on the same continent.