Hold Me (Ribbon Ridge #7)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

O ver the next four days, Hayden was thrown into a whirlwind of activity as things got busier up at The Alex in preparation for the soft open. Plus, the annual Ribbon Ridge Festival was starting tonight and would run through the weekend, and he’d volunteered to help out with that, too. In his spare time, primarily late at night, he e-mailed and texted with the Westcott brothers as they discussed a business plan. This pipe dream seemed more viable every day.

Being so busy meant Hayden had little time to think about or even see Bex, which suited him just fine. It also meant his parents weren’t badgering him about his plans. He’d sent off a note to Antoine, telling him he needed a little more time to decide. But what had seemed a runaway decision to return to France and take the amazing life-altering position had somehow shifted into a dead heat between Burgundy and Ribbon Ridge.

It was seven o’clock—time for Hayden’s shift at the festival booth to conclude. He had plans to meet up with Cameron and Jamie later to talk about the winery. Jamie had put together a top-notch business plan, and based on that, Luke was working on pulling money together, while Jamie flat out said he’d have to borrow some to put in his share. Hayden wondered if Jamie would take a loan from him, but didn’t know if that would muddy the waters.

Sean was working the booth with Hayden and Ford, one of Archer’s employees whom Hayden had worked with for years. Both Sean and Hayden were done in a few, while Ford was staying on to close the booth. It was a beautiful evening, and even though it was only Thursday, the stream of thirsty festivalgoers that afternoon had been steady.

“Hey, guys!” Another Archer employee, Trish, arrived at the booth. “I’m here to relieve somebody.”

“That would be me,” Sean said.

Hayden sent him a look of mock offense. “Hey, it could be me .”

Sean clapped his hand on Hayden’s bicep. “True, mate.”

Hayden had spent some time with Sean this week and liked him a lot. Tori had chosen a spouse who not only fit into their family, but also stood up to it. Marrying into the Archer clan was not for the meek.

Tori came toward the booth, dressed in cutoff shorts and a paint-stained T-shirt, and her hair in a ponytail. She smiled at Sean, and he stepped out to meet her, kissing her cheek.

Hayden looked at her. “Did you get drafted into painting?”

“Yeah. Helping Chloe with some accent stuff in the spa. It’s not going to be ready the same day as everything else, but it’ll be close.”

The soft open was in two weeks, so it was crunch time. There were a myriad of last-minute things going on, many of which Hayden had helped with all week long, aside from taking care of a bunch of wine stuff and trying to find a sommelier for the restaurant. He had settled into a groove, finding at least a temporary place within this project. It felt great to be a part of it and to be working with his siblings. Maybe that had helped tipped the scales in favor of returning to Ribbon Ridge.

Everything was coming together—the rooms were decorated, the staff was mostly hired and trained, the grounds looked spectacular, and the restaurant was cooking every day to practice. And now their food was getting center stage at a booth that Kyle was running as a preview to advertise the restaurant.

A young guy came running up. “Am I late?” he panted. “Sorry. I’m Andy.”

“Hey, Andy, you’re not late. Go on in.” Hayden stepped out of the booth as he called out, “See you later, Ford.” He went to join Sean and Tori.

“Everyone came down for a quick dinner,” Tori said. “I said we’d bring beer. There’ll be eleven of us—assuming you’re coming, Hayden—but Sara wants cider of course.”

Hayden was hungry, and Cameron and Jamie were going to meet him here in a bit. “Sounds good.”

They filled a couple of growlers, grabbed some cups, and snagged a cider for Sara then made their way to the eating area where there were picnic tables as well as extra tables and chairs set up for the event. Food booths, including the one for The Arch and Fox, and carts ringed the area. “Guess we’re not eating at Kyle’s,” Hayden said. That line was easily the longest.

“No kidding,” Sean said. “Bummer because I was looking forward to the pork sliders.”

Tori flashed them both a smile. “Kyle’s making ours. It’ll be ready in a few.” She nodded toward Liam and Derek, who were loitering near the side of the booth. “They’re picking it up.” She looked over the tables and pointed. “There’s Aubrey and Chloe.”

Hayden handed his growler to Sean, who carried the other. “I’ll give them a hand with the food.”

Tori and Sean went and sat at the table while Hayden walked up to the booth. He looked at Derek and Liam. “You need help transporting?”

“Probably, thanks,” Derek said. He and Liam were both dressed in work clothes, and had clearly just come from The Alex.

Kyle poked his head out of the doorway. “Food’s about up. Everybody here?” he asked.

Liam pushed his sunglasses more firmly on his nose. “Sara and Dylan are on their way. Evan and Alaina aren’t coming. Too many people for his comfort, and she’d just as soon keep a low-ish profile since she suddenly looks pregnant.”

“Cool,” Kyle said. “Ah, here we go. Open the door, will you?” He turned while Liam held the door open. Kyle handed a tray with food stacked on it to Derek and then another to Hayden. “One more.” Liam stuck his foot in front of the door as he took the last one.

“That it?”

“Yep. Maggie and I’ll be over in a sec.”

They went to the table and deposited the food, which was a variety of what the booth was offering: pork sliders, a mixed green salad, and chicken cilantro tacos. Hayden helped himself to a couple of sliders and a taco then poured a beer.

Kyle and Maggie joined them, still garbed in their aprons. “We have a bit of a reprieve!” Kyle sat down next to Hayden. “Beer me, please .”

Hayden obliged. “You guys are swamped.”

“No kidding. I had to call in reinforcements here.” He nodded at Maggie next to him then blew her a kiss.

She caught the kiss and flashed a smile. “I can only stay another hour or so. I need to get back up to The Alex and check on the irrigation.”

“I can help you out here if you need it,” Hayden said to Kyle, thinking he could probably get Cam and Jamie to pitch in if necessary. Although, Cam was arguably the worst cook ever. Next to Tori.

Liam, who was sitting next to Hayden, grinned at him. “Aren’t you the jack of a thousand trades?”

Hadn’t that pretty much been his role since birth? Hayden bit his tongue before he said that. It was fine. He didn’t mind that role.

Kyle lifted his beer. “And I appreciate the hell out of it. To Hayden being back and saving our collective asses.”

Hayden hadn’t saved anything. They’d been doing just fine without him. “I wouldn’t go that far. You’ve all done a great job. I’m just coming in at the finish line—the credit is all yours.”

Tori looked at him, her lips slightly pursed. “Don’t discount your contributions. This project launched because of you.”

Sara and Dylan walked up then, the latter looking more tired and frazzled than Hayden had ever seen him. He felt bad that Sara and Dylan wouldn’t get their official honeymoon until next month. But then they were taking two full weeks in the UK, including a brief visit with Sean’s parents.

Tori patted the seat next to her. “Sit, you guys. I’m glad you made it.”

Sara sat and pulled Dylan down beside her. “I had to practically drag him.”

Kyle looked at Dylan. “Everyone has to eat.”

“I can eat at the job site,” he muttered.

“Dude, it’s all coming together.” Kyle grinned. “Don’t sweat it.”

Dylan ran his hand through his brown hair and reached for a pair of pork sliders situated in a small paper dish. “It’ll get there.”

Sara smiled at her new husband as she patted his knee. “We know. Besides, we had to come down to the festival, at least for a little bit. You can’t miss it.”

Tori looked around the table, smiling. “It’s so nice to have everyone here. I wish Evan and Alaina had come.”

Conversation broke off around the table, as it usually did with so many of them in one place.

Kyle leaned over toward Hayden. “How’s it going? You ready to blow back to France yet?”

Hayden gave him a teasing stare. “Are you asking if I’m sick of you guys yet?”

Kyle raised a shoulder. “I might be if I were you. You held down the fort for a long time. I don’t blame you for wanting to be off on your own.”

Hayden took a drink of beer and set his cup back on the table. “What’s you’re motive here, Kyle? I’m already selling you my house, which you love.”

Kyle chuckled. “No ulterior motives. But I do appreciate your selling us the house. We do love it. I still can’t believe you’re willing to give it up.”

Hayden shook his head with a laugh. “It’s a commitment I don’t need. I don’t know when I’ll be back in Ribbon Ridge.” Or if he was even leaving , but he didn’t say that.

Kyle sat back a little, understanding sparking in his gaze. “I get it. You want to be loose and free. Taking a page from my book now, are you?”

“Minus the part where I alienate people.”

“Ouch. But I totally did that.” He sighed. “I was a complete dick.”

Hayden picked up his beer again. “Wow, you’re, like, so grown up now.”

“Have to be. It’s easy when your life clicks into place. But you know what that feels like. You’ve been grown up and responsible for as long as I can remember.”

Ha, right. Unfortunately it was right. Boringly, disappointingly right. That was one of the reasons he’d left. It had been past time to stretch his wings and stop being the go-to guy. Maybe he was following Kyle’s lead—to a point.

Yet here he was, home for just a couple of weeks, and he was right back in that role of stalwart, dependable Hayden. Hell, he didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted to feel needed, he wanted to be free. What the fuck?

Screw it, maybe he should go off and do something like Liam would’ve done before he’d fallen in love and returned to the fold.

Hayden swigged his beer. “Which is maybe why I want to unload the house and, you know, be irresponsible for once.”

Kyle looked at him without his usual swagger. “Well, whatever the reason, Maggie and I are thrilled. Thank you.”

Hayden smiled. “It makes me happy to know you guys love it.”

“Are you sure this doesn’t mean you’re out of here for good?”

Hayden looked him in the eye, but let his mouth quirk up into a smile. “Isn’t ‘never say never’ one of your mottos?”

“Maybe. Sounds more like Liam though.”

Liam looked over at them upon hearing his name. “What does?”

“Nothing,” Hayden said. He leaned toward Kyle and spoke a bit lower. “Did you talk to Aubrey about the sale?”

“Yep. It’ll be super easy since we’re paying you cash thanks to Dad giving me my trust fund back.” He said this without animosity. He truly had put all of his darker days behind him. Hayden was glad.

Now he’d be even more liquid to make this winery start-up work. If he was going to do it.

Liam turned in his chair to face Hayden. “Hey, stop talking about me over there.”

“Not talking about you at all, jackass. But I did want to ask you something. When are you taking me skydiving?”

Liam sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Damn, I forgot. Next weekend?” Liam shook his head. “No, that’s the hike and campout with Bex.”

Hayden had been so busy that he’d forgotten about that entirely, but clearly Liam hadn’t. He’d remembered Bex’s hike but not Hayden’s request for a skydive? Irritation pricked at his neck, but he worked to ignore it. “Is that happening?”

“It is for us. I talked to Bex this week. We’re all set to hike up. We’re going to watch the weather, but right now we’re planning to just sleep under the stars so we won’t need to haul tents. Just basic cooking stuff and water.”

Sounded complicated. But fun. Except it was with Bex. Could he do that?

Why not? They seemed to have formed a tenuous friendship. Like boring grown-ups.

He glanced around, wondering where she was today. Since she was living at the house right now and working at The Alex, she seemed as much of an extension of his family as she had five years ago. Only she wasn’t.

“Is Bex at the brewhouse today?” he asked no one in particular.

“Yeah, she was up there this morning,” Dylan answered. “But I haven’t seen her in a while.” He threw Sara an apologetic glance. “I guess we should’ve invited her to come with us.”

“Actually I saw her an hour or so ago,” Sean said. He looked toward Hayden. “You’d stepped out of the booth for a few minutes.”

Hayden almost asked why Sean hadn’t told him that, but why would he have? The better question was why did Hayden think that was something Sean ought to share? He and Bex had no connection, especially to someone like Sean who hadn’t ever known them as a couple.

“Well, this is a sorry-looking lot.” Cam’s voice carried around the table from where he stood behind Kyle’s chair, grinning with his hands on his hips.

Kyle turned his head. “Where’d you come from? I must’ve missed the cat that dragged you in.”

Cam winced as he blew air between his teeth. “Dude, that was kind of a whiff. I think you’re losing your touch.”

Kyle threw up his hands. “What can I say? I’ve been working my face off the last week. Hell, the last year.”

Liam cocked his head to the side and gave Kyle his most condescending expression. “Poor Kyle. Wife in the weal world is so hawd,” he said in a singsong voice.

Kyle stood then leaned over Hayden and patted Liam’s knee in a thoroughly patronizing fashion. “Yeah, well, next time you work for a multimillion-dollar corporation, start up a restaurant, and appear on multiple television shows, let me know.”

“Burn!” Derek said, laughing. Others joined in. Liam shook his head, but smiled widely.

Jamie joined them then, but the group was breaking up. Which was fine since Hayden didn’t want to talk to Cam and Jamie with his siblings around.

Sara and Dylan took off, while Kyle and Maggie headed back to the food booth.

“We should head back up to The Alex,” Tori said to Sean. They said good-bye and left.

Aubrey and Liam took off next, holding hands as they threaded their way out through the tables.

Once they were alone, Cam stepped toward Hayden. “Did you see that Butter Creek Cellars is here? They have wine from Amos’s grapes.”

Hayden’s interest was instantly piqued. “Do they? Lead the way.”

Cam took them to the booth where they were pouring. They each paid the tasting fee—five bucks for three wines, only one of which was from Amos’s land. Hayden asked for a pour of just that and studied it before tasting, letting the wine linger on his tongue. He thought of what he’d do differently, of how he would’ve left it in the cask a few weeks longer.

They walked off to the side, and Jamie tasted the same variety. “This is good.” He looked at Hayden expectantly. “Is it, or do I have no idea what I’m talking about?”

Hayden smiled at him. “Everyone is the arbiter of their own taste. You like what you like. Period.”

Cam had tried the pinot blanc and just finished it. “Sure, but you’ve got the nose and the palette to understand what’s really good and what’s not. You tell schmucks like us what to drink so we don’t waste our money on crap.”

“Like you can’t tell for yourself. You’ve spent enough time shilling wines that you know good from bad from phenomenal.”

Cam grinned. “True. Guess that makes me qualified to be your assistant winemaker or something.”

Hayden laughed. “Don’t push it. You market, I craft, remember?”

“So what are we thinking?” Jamie asked, looking between his brother and Hayden. “Amos wants to list the property next week.”

Cam nodded. “I know. We need to make a decision. What’s your money situation, little brother?”

Jamie tossed his tasting cup into a nearby trashcan. Actual glasses would’ve been a disaster at an event like this. “I’m short, but I can get a loan. I’m in.”

“I could maybe spot you—as a loan,” Hayden offered. “If you’re open to that.”

Jamie exhaled. “It’d be a hell of a lot easier than going through a bank. Yeah, let me think about it.”

Cam pulled his sunglasses off and looked at Hayden. “Does that mean you’re in?”

“I want to be . . . I’m not sure yet. It’s a huge commitment. I sort of like being free at the moment.” His voice had trailed off as he’d finished his statement.

Jamie’s cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the screen. “Excuse me, guys, I need to take this.” He answered the call and strolled a little ways away from them.

Cam moved closer to Hayden. “What gives? What’s holding you back?”

Hayden shrugged. “There’s no need to be dramatic.”

Cam rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’ve known you forever. I can see how excited you are about this, how much of your mind it’s occupying. You sent me an e-mail at two a.m. the other night.”

That was true. “I don’t know. I’m just . . . unsettled.”

Cam’s mouth turned down into a sort of grimace. “Is it Bex?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Because she lives here now. She works with your family. She’s currently more attached to Ribbon Ridge than you are.”

That needled him. And Cam knew it. He wanted Hayden to commit to this idea. “That’s not going to work, so knock it off.”

“This is the chance of a lifetime. It’s a great vineyard, we have all the right people together, the timing’s great?—”

“Is it? Luke’s not free right now, and neither am I, really.”

Cam’s mouth dove into a full-on frown now. “Luke will be free, and you could be, too.” He pivoted and took a step then went back to where he was standing. Sometimes he had a hard time keeping still. “What can I say to convince you?”

Hayden stared at his best friend. “You really want this.”

“I really do. What I don’t understand is why you don’t.”

But he did. He wanted it like crazy. So yeah, what the hell was his problem? Bex? His family? Did he feel like he was letting Antoine down if he didn’t take the job in France? Yeah, that was part of it. Antoine was depending on him, and Hayden hated disappointing people.

“I do want it. Just give me some time to figure things out, okay?”

Cam turned his head toward the hills surrounding the town before looking back to Hayden. “That’s the problem—we’re running out of time.”

On Saturday, Bex worked in the brewhouse in the morning and then helped Maggie in the garden in the afternoon. They’d taken an all-hands-on-deck approach to get everything ready for the soft open. She’d more than earned the quiet dinner by herself followed by a long soak in the tub. Exhausted as she was, she decided she needed a nightcap.

She slipped downstairs to the daylight basement, intending to grab a glass of whiskey from Rob’s collection. The bar was in the party room, where they also had a foosball table, pool table, and card table. So many tables. Plus couches, TVs on which to watch sports, and a killer bar.

The TV was on when she walked in, and there sprawled on one of the couches was Hayden. He was dressed in athletic shorts and an Archer beer T-shirt. And she was immediately transported to five years ago . . . She shoved the thought away even as her stomach did little flips.

He looked over at her. “Hey, Bex.” He turned the volume down on the TV a few notches. He was watching a rerun of Saturday Night Live . So five years ago.

Bex forced her mind back to the present and made her way to the bar. “Who’s the host?”

“Amy Schumer.”

Bex opened the glass door behind which Rob kept a variety of liquors. “Love her. That’s a great episode.”

“I wouldn’t know since I was abroad.”

She selected a single malt whiskey and pulled a glass down from the cabinet. “There’s this thing called the interwebs.”

He paused the show and sat up, swinging his legs around to the floor. “There’s also a thing called spare time, of which I have very little.”

She poured the whiskey into the glass. “You’re really that busy?”

He got up and joined her at the bar. “Where’s my glass?”

“Oops, my bad. Sorry.” She turned back to the cabinet and grabbed another glass. “Still neat?”

“Of course.”

After splashing whiskey into his glass, she slid it across the bar to him and raised her own. “To being busy?”

“Sure, why not?” He tapped his glass to hers and took a sip. “Yes, I’m really that busy. Not just with work, but with life. I’ve taken a lot of weekend trips. If I’m going to live in France, I might as well make the most of it, right?”

Bex blamed the whiskey lighting a fire in her belly for the warmth spreading through her. It couldn’t be Hayden’s presence. Except the heat had started the moment she’d seen him laid out on the couch. How many times had they snuggled in that very spot watching Saturday Night Live of all things? Ugh, she had to stop dwelling on the past. It was over. They were over. “You have to. What’s been your favorite place to visit?”

Bex had been to Europe once in high school with her mother on a guilt trip—as in her mother had felt guilty after not seeing her for almost a year. It had been an odd vacation, with Bex spending most of her days doing touristy stuff while her mom worked. Looking back, she had to wonder what her mother had been thinking allowing a sixteen-year-old girl to wander around European cities by herself.

He sat on one of the stools at the bar. “Florence. It reminds me a lot of home, actually. Just a gorgeous place.”

Bex’s only stop in Italy had been Rome. “It’s on my bucket list.”

“It should be. Barcelona’s pretty amazing, too.”

“Wow, you have been all over. Where haven’t you gone?”

He chuckled. “I’d really like to visit Copenhagen. That’s next on the list. And the UK, but that’s a longer trip.”

“And did you do all of this alone?” She hoped she didn’t sound too nosy.

“Occasionally, but sometimes I go with a friend—a gal I work with.”

Jealousy snaked through her, and she took another sip of whiskey. “How fun to see it with a local. Or at least a European.” She set her glass down, realizing she was white-knuckling it with her annoyance. “Are you looking forward to getting back?”

Hayden took a longer sip of whiskey and kept his gaze on the glass after he set it back down on the bar. “I was. I am . It’s just . . . I feel like I’ve got a foot in both places, if that makes sense.”

She could see why he’d feel that way. For her, she’d be able to make the break. When her parents had divorced, she’d gone to live with her dad without a backward glance. Then when she’d left home to go to college, she’d done the same. Home wasn’t related to a place in her mind. It was a feeling. A state of mind. “It does. Just remember that Ribbon Ridge—your family—will always be here.”

A slight smile played about his lips, and even that small thing was enough to make her chest tighten with emotion. “Yep. There will always be Archers in Ribbon Ridge.”

It seemed like he wanted to talk to someone, or maybe that was just her wishful thinking. She picked up her glass and walked around the bar, taking the stool next to him. “You can tell me to butt out, but I’ve known you a long time and we’re friends now, I think.” She hoped. “Your family is tough.”

He tipped his head up to look at her. “Tough?”

“It’s just . . . big. Complicated. Competitive.”

His brow furrowed. “Is that how you see us?”

“That’s how I see them . How do you see them?”

He smiled. “Complicated. Competitive.” He looked at her with appreciation in his gaze, which wasn’t helping her campaign to shelve her feelings for him. “It feels off being back now. I’ve always been the one to be here—you know that.”

He’d felt it was his responsibility to stay. Except maybe responsibility wasn’t what he’d felt. Maybe it was the desire to be the one who was necessary. Not martyrdom—nothing that self-serving—but a true need to feel . . . needed. Why had she never seen that before?

“I did know that, but I don’t think I really understood it until now. I shouldn’t have asked you to leave.”

He sat up and pivoted the stool so he was facing her. His knee brushed hers as he turned, and she felt the connection everywhere. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice.

“Whoa,” he said. “This is a total one-eighty. I’m not sure I can wrap my head around this.” There were lines of humor around his eyes, so she knew he was at least half-joking.

“I know, right?” She brought the whiskey to her lips and drank.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his gaze intense. “Why do you say that now?”

Oh, this was dangerous territory. This intimate conversation, the dimness of the room, the familiarity and its pull—at least for her. “You seem out of sorts now, like you maybe can’t find your place, whereas before you knew what it was. You were Hayden the Dependable, the one everyone counted on.”

His stare pierced her. There was a bit of admiration there. She fidgeted with her glass, unsure where this was going.

“You get it. No one gets it.”

She wasn’t sure that was true, but maybe it was just that he hadn’t talked to them about it. And maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe his place wasn’t here. “I get it now ,” she said, smiling. “But I didn’t before. And I’m sorry.”

“You said you shouldn’t have asked me to leave. Do you . . . do you regret leaving?”

Damn, that was the worst question ever. Yes and no. “Until I’d come back here, I would’ve said no. Now . . . I’m not sure. It’s hard to regret things, isn’t it? Because we are who we are today because of the choices we made. And I like who I am.” For the most part.

He hadn’t broken eye contact with her the entire time she’d spoken, and she wondered if he felt this connection, this bone-deep longing that she’d truly never experienced before. Then he leaned in, and she did the same. Did he realize how close they were? If they both leaned just a bit more, their lips would touch.

“Maybe that’s it.” His voice was soft, sexy, but dark, too. “Maybe I don’t like who I am.”

That shocked her. He’d always been the most affable, the most generous, the most likeable person. Her fingers itched to caress the day’s worth of stubble along his chin.

He shook his head, and she blinked. “Never mind, that was a dumb thing to say.” And there went any chance she had of figuring out what he’d meant. Or of kissing him.

He finished off his whiskey. “It doesn’t matter if you’d wanted to stay or go five years ago. Once we lost the baby, all bets were off.” The look he gave her then was the most bare and vulnerable she’d seen him. He blinked and dropped his gaze to the empty glass in his hand. When his eyes found hers again, the intensity had lessened, but she still felt a connection and wondered if he did, too. “It was a terrible situation. I’m not sure if . . . at that age . . . we could’ve recovered from that.”

His words opened all of the old wounds, not horribly, but enough that she felt the pain of that loss, of then losing him. But that had been her choice, for better or worse.

He set his glass on the counter and stood. “I’m heading to bed. Thanks for the whiskey and . . . this. Night.”

She watched him go and finished her whiskey then turned off the television. She wished losing the baby hadn’t driven them apart, that it had instead drawn them closer together. No, that wasn’t true. She wished they hadn’t lost the baby at all.