Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
H ayden stood with his brothers, sandwiched between Liam and Evan, as they posed for a picture around the groom. The ceremony had been absolutely gorgeous. Sara was a stunning bride, and Dylan was a thoroughly love-struck groom.
The photographer thanked them and moved on as the reception was just starting to get going. It was a warm evening, thankfully not quite as hot as the past few days, and the party would undoubtedly last into the wee hours.
He watched Derek and Kyle laugh at something one of them said and thought of Derek’s wedding last summer. Hayden had come home from France to be Derek’s best man. They’d become close over the past several years as they’d worked together at Archer and formed a friendship that went beyond the brotherly affection they’d developed when Derek had come to live when them. Still, he and Kyle had been best friends since they were twelve—until their falling-out when Kyle had left town.
Hayden had understood why, when Derek and Kyle had patched things up just before the wedding, Derek had wanted Kyle to be his best man instead. Understanding, however, wasn’t the same as being okay with it. And if he were honest with himself, he’d admit he’d felt like a runner-up, the placeholder until the real deal showed up.
Hayden shook away the old hurt. It didn’t matter. He had his own best friend. Cameron had been there for him through thick and thin since first grade. All of Hayden’s siblings shared a special one-on-one bond with each other: Liam and Alex, Kyle and Sara, Tori and Evan. He’d had to find his kindred spirit outside of the family. And he’d found it in Cameron. Then he’d found it in Bex.
Right away they’d bonded over their love of Harry Potter and beer. Their relationship had grown quickly from a close friendship to sexual intimacy. From the start, she’d always made him feel special and unique, like a valuable individual and not just one of a greater whole. That she’d been unimpressed by his family name or his role in a reality show when other girls had been typically starstruck had only added to her allure.
He stopped himself from looking for her amid the crowd. It was hard to avoid her since she was staying in the house, so he certainly didn’t need to search her out now.
He’d seen her earlier, before the ceremony. Dressed in a pretty aqua dress with a flared skirt and strappy silver heels, she’d made his breath catch. But just for a moment. Did you ever stop finding your first love attractive?
He almost laughed at the thought. He’d thought her plenty awful when she’d left him. But angry and hurt as he’d been, he’d still loved her.
Finally, though, he could say he’d moved on. He exhaled and embraced a small sense of relief. Appreciating her good looks was fine. Emotional investment was not.
A clap on his shoulder made him turn. Liam inclined his head toward a server holding a tray of glasses filled with beer standing to his left. “You want a drink?”
Hayden picked a glass off the tray. “Sure. Thanks.” He nodded at the server, who continued on.
Liam held up his glass and clacked it against Hayden’s. “To everybody marrying off. Well, except you.” He took a drink and Hayden did the same. “Kind of funny since everyone thought you’d be the first one.”
Yep. But Hayden didn’t want to talk about that. “This wedding beer is pretty damn good.” Dad had crafted a light, wheat beer, perfect for a hot summer day.
“Agreed.” Liam took another drink. “Is Bex being here weird for you?”
“Certainly no weirder than your ex-fuck-buddy trying to keep The Alex from opening because you dumped her.”
Liam winced. “Yeah. That wasn’t weird. That was completely messed up. I’m sensing you don’t want to talk about Bex. That’s cool. I just wanted you to know I’m here. You know . . . If you did want to talk.”
What the hell? Hayden stared at his brother. “Since when did you become the caring big brother type?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Blame Aubrey. She’s softened me up.”
Hayden laughed. He’d been home only a week, but he could see that Aubrey had completely transformed the arrogant playboy into a, frankly, rather pleasant, family-oriented dude. That was weird. “She’s good for you, clearly.”
“I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” His gaze turned serious. “I mean it. If you ever need to talk—about what to do next or whatever—I’m here.”
Hayden narrowed his eyes at Liam. “Did Mom put you up to this?”
Liam chuckled. “No, but I totally understand why you’d think that. Honestly, this is all me. I’ve been absent—and not just in the physical sense—for way too long. I missed my family. I’m only sorry it took me so long to realize it.”
Huh. Well that was . . . unexpected. Or not. Even though they’d lived far apart, they’d managed to keep a tight bond, particularly the sextuplets. Is that what this was about? With Alex gone there was an opening in their club? Especially with Liam. His counterpart, or whatever you wanted to call it, was gone. Was Hayden his replacement?
Whether there was any truth to Hayden’s thoughts was irrelevant. He needed a change of scenery. “Uh, thanks. See you later—I’m heading to the hors d’oeuvres tent.” There were servers with trays, but there was also a central location so you could grab what you wanted.
Hayden found the canopy and went straight for the shrimp, which was being kept on ice. He loaded a plate with four tails and a dollop of cocktail sauce and moved to the edge of the canopy.
“Hayden!” His cousin Laurel approached, eyeing his plate. “Yum, shrimp. Hang on.” She went and helped herself then joined him. “You guys sure know how to throw a party.”
“Hey, I had nothing to do with it.”
She grabbed a tail and dipped the meat into the sauce. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. My family does everything big.”
“No kidding. I still remember that insane birthday party that was filmed for the TV show. Carnival rides, ponies, craziness!”
Hayden remembered that, too. Along with everything else to do with the show. It had been surreal enough to have television crews filming at your house, but even more so when you realized they weren’t really there for you. Hayden had figured that out partway through the first season when he’d been completely edited out of an episode. His parents had ensured it had never happened again, but Hayden had never forgotten that he was only along for the ride.
Laurel brushed her long hair back over her shoulder. “Man, I wish I’d worn this up. It’s kind of muggy.” She dipped another shrimp tail as she spoke in a low tone. “You hated that show, didn’t you?”
He laughed. “ Hated is a strong word. It wasn’t my favorite thing. Evan hated it.” With his Asperger’s syndrome, he’d found the intrusiveness challenging. Hayden had always wondered if their folks had pulled the plug because Evan just couldn’t take it anymore.
“I can imagine. You’ve been back in Ribbon Ridge for a bit now. How is it?”
He arched a brow at her. “You thinking of coming back?”
She shrugged. “You never know. It doesn’t really feel like home for me. Not like I’m sure it does for you.”
Leaving had been hard, and a part of him wasn’t looking forward to doing it again. He’d enjoyed the past week—being back with his family and helping out, even if he did feel a little disconnected. They were all engaged and interwoven, part of the tapestry of Ribbon Ridge, while he was merely a visitor now. Still, he hadn’t realized how much he missed his hometown. He loved the short drive to the beach, the smell of the spring rain, and the mist in the valley on fall mornings, which he wouldn’t see if he went back to France in August.
If.
That little two-letter word blared through his brain. Somewhere over the past week he’d gone from taking the job in France to maybe not. Ever since he’d talked about it with the Westcott brothers, the lure of starting a winery had burrowed into his mind. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure he fit in here right now, particularly with the presence of Bex.
A young woman, probably the same age as Laurel and Hayden, walked up to them.
Laurel greeted the new arrival. “Hi, Kayla, do you know Hayden Archer?”
Kayla shook her head. Average height, she had long, brown hair with blonde highlights, bright blue eyes and a great smile. She held out her hand to Hayden. “Nice to meet you.”
“Kayla lives in Newberg,” Laurel said. “We used to go to the same dance studio.”
“Yep, and I lived across the street from the Davieses so I knew Dylan growing up.”
“Cool.”
She nodded and tipped her head in such a way that pinged Hayden’s radar. She was exactly the kind of woman he’d normally dance with tonight and maybe hook up with later. That had been his life after Bex. Well, at first it had just been a solitary funk, but after nearly a year, he’d tried to date. That had resulted in a lot of first dates and some pretty meaningless sex. Not that meaningless sex was a bad thing when both parties were on board. Looking at her subtle body language, he sensed she’d be down for that.
Hayden finished his last shrimp, and his eye caught an aqua dress. Bex. She stood with a guy—he looked familiar, but Hayden couldn’t quite place him—her face tilted up, eyes sparkling, lips curved into a smile. Then she laughed and touched his sleeve. Hayden had a ridiculous urge to throw the plate in his hand like a Frisbee and take the guy out.
Okay, he found her really, really attractive. He always had—and there was nothing wrong with that—but damn, she seemed even prettier now. There was something different about her—a maturity, a confidence, something he couldn’t quite describe. But hadn’t he just told himself that anything more than finding her attractive was bad news?
Hayden set his empty plate on one of the tables. “You guys want to get a beer?” He’d ditched his empty glass on the way over.
“Definitely,” Kayla said, briefly lowering her lids in the universal language of flirtation.
Yes, focus on Kayla and ignore Bex. He glanced over and saw that Bex was laughing again. Once more, the urge to knock down the guy she was standing with swept through him. And once more, he chastised himself.
Surely, this . . . whatever it was . . . was only due to seeing her again after so long. There wasn’t any emotional attachment between them now. When he was used to seeing her on a regular basis, the uneasiness—that’s what he’d call it—would pass.
He arrived at the beverage tent with Laurel and Kayla, who were discussing what to drink. There was the special Archer beer and cider of course, plus a full bar, wine, and later there would be champagne.
Hayden opted for wine instead of the beer. They had a nice, cold pinot gris from a nearby winery, and that sounded pretty good right now. As he sipped the wine, he thought of what he’d do when he made his own. But when would that be? In France, he’d be making Antoine’s wine.
If he opened up that fantasy winery here, he’d be able to make his own.
Except it was just that—a fantasy. Coming back here meant more than living in the same small town with the woman who’d broken his heart. It meant returning to the life where he’d never felt like the lead in his own movie.
Bex had been right. He’d needed to leave, as his siblings had, even if it meant he ultimately came back.
And he would come back. He just didn’t think it could be right now. He had too many things to see and do. A voice in the back of his head added, and maybe too much to prove .
Bex was glad she didn’t have to drive anywhere after this reception. She wasn’t drunk, but she was a bit buzzed after beer and wine and finally champagne. The quantity of food she’d consumed helped maintain her equilibrium. A friend of Kyle’s from culinary school had catered the event, and the food was just about as delicious as Kyle’s.
It was good to have a moment’s quiet. She’d been dancing for close to an hour and was happy to simply sit at the edge of the dance floor and watch. Or zone out. Or try not to look for Hayden. Because that had worked well for her today. It seemed everywhere she went, she couldn’t help but see him. Standing with his brothers outside the beer tent. Chatting with Laurel and some knockout. Dancing with that knockout maybe a half hour ago. Where had they gone?
Ugh. That was absolutely none of her business.
She took another sip of water from the bottle she’d grabbed from one of the tubs stationed in the corners of the dance floor. The band was currently in the middle of a slow country song that had apparently been playing the night Sara and Dylan had first gotten together. Although they’d met in high school a decade earlier, they hadn’t found love until after they’d encountered each other in a bar. Because that’s how it was done, right?
Bex had met her post-Hayden boyfriends in a bar—brewpubs more specifically—because that’s where she’d worked. She’d met Hayden at the college equivalent—a fraternity party.
She’d been a new transfer student at Oregon State, having spent two years in community college. She’d been eager to get out of Bend after Dad had started dating the She-Witch. She’d known a couple of people whom she’d gone to high school with, but had pretty much started over. The party flyer she’d been handed on her third day on campus had been just the invitation she’d needed. And Hayden, with his love for IPA and his lovably nerdy Gryffindor scarf, had caught her eye immediately.
The music changed to something faster, and Bex found herself swept onto the dance floor by Chloe, Aubrey, and Maggie. It was a Pink song, a rock anthem that demanded they sing along and stomp their feet. By the end, Bex was panting and laughing and wishing she’d worn different shoes. The silver sandals were super cute and went great with the dress, but after a hot night of dancing, they were like little torture chambers.
“Dude, I need to lose my shoes.” Maggie giggled. “I just made an inadvertent rhyme!”
Bex was not the only person flying a little high tonight. “Me too. Can we?”
“Why not?” Maggie asked. “Especially you. You live here.”
Well, she didn’t live here, but yeah, this was where she was currently resting her head at night.
They went to the table at the edge of the dance floor where Bex had been sitting and, sighing softly, dropped into the chairs. Aubrey and Chloe sat too, but didn’t seem to be suffering the same footwear trauma as Bex and Maggie.
Maggie’s shoes were slip-ons, so she just kicked them off. Bex would have to unbuckle the straps on hers, but first she needed more water. Thankfully her bottle was still on the table.
Liam and Derek strode up to the table. They’d doffed their jackets long ago and loosened their ties. Kyle came up behind them, looking similarly disheveled. Nope, not disheveled. There was nothing messy about any of them. They all looked like they belonged in a photo shoot for J. Crew.
Liam held his hand out to Aubrey. “Hey, babe. You ready for another spin?”
She grinned up at him and twined her fingers through his. “Sure.”
Chloe stood up next. “Come on, sexy, show me what you’ve got.”
Derek let out a low growl. “You sure you want that?”
Chloe laughed low in her throat. “Bring it.”
Though Bex smiled at their banter, she couldn’t help but feel envious. Kyle looked between Maggie and Bex, his brow furrowed.
Maggie massaged her toes. “What’s wrong?”
Kyle eyed her feet. “Well, we all came over to dance, but you look like you need to sit.”
Maggie bounced up. “I’m good. I just won’t be putting those back on.” She pointed at the offending footwear she’d kicked aside.
“I liked those shoes,” he said. “A lot.” He grinned and kissed her cheek.
She chuckled. “Great, they’re yours.”
He laughed with her then turned to Bex. “You want to come dance with us?”
Bex didn’t want to intrude on all the coupledom. “Thanks, but I need to rest my feet.”
Kyle took Maggie’s hand. “Okay, but if you change your mind, we’ll be the ones with no rhythm.”
Maggie socked him in the shoulder. “Speak for yourself!”
They laughed all the way to the dance floor where he pulled her into his arms for a slow-ish dance despite the upbeat tempo of the song.
Bex bent over and pulled at the strap on her shoe. With a flick of her fingers she freed her poor right foot and exhaled with relief. Moving on to the left, she tugged the strap back. Only the little metal toggle wouldn’t come out of the hole. It was stuck. Crap.
She worked at it for a minute and, when too much blood had gathered in her tipsy head from being bent over, she sat back up with a huff. Standing in front of her was Hayden wearing a perplexed half-smile.
“Problem?”
She groaned. “Yes. My strap won’t come loose, and I’m dying to get this shoe off.” She brought her foot up to show him.
He leaned forward. “I see. Here, let me see if I can help.” He sat down in the chair Maggie had vacated. “Give me your foot.”
She envisioned handing him her severed foot like she would a hammer or a pen and promptly giggled.
His eyes narrowed briefly, and damn was it sexy. “What?”
“Nothing. Just buzz giggles.”
He smiled. “I remember those.”
That’s what they’d called them in college. The uncontrollable laughter at things that maybe weren’t that funny unless you were under the influence of alcohol.
She lifted her foot and wasn’t sure where to go with it. Putting it on his lap seemed too . . . intimate. But the table was too tall and there wasn’t another chair in close proximity.
He solved the problem by gently clutching it and setting it on his knee. Not quite his lap. This was okay. Safe.
Until he started in on the strap. His fingers grazed her flesh, sparking all sorts of inappropriate yearnings. She willed him to hurry up before she did something stupid. Like moan.
“Wow, this is really stuck.” He frowned at her. “Your foot’s kind of swollen.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious. It’s hot, and I’ve been on my feet all day. I wonder why.”
“Well, I’m going to have to tighten it”—he did just that as he said the words, making her cry out—“to get it off.” The strap came free, and he tossed the shoe aside. “Better?”
His right hand was still on her foot, his thumb gently caressing her reddened flesh. Did he realize what he was doing? That he was stroking her? He couldn’t possibly know how it made her feel, how she wished he would slide his hand up to her ankle, keeping up the massage, and to all points north of that.
She tried not to sigh and completely failed. “Yes, thank you.”
Like his brothers, he’d ditched his coat. He’d also completely removed his tie, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the neck with the sleeves rolled up. Both places bared tanned flesh that contrasted sharply with the pure white of his crisp shirt. He wore a bracelet on his right wrist—brown leather with a slender silver rectangle.
God, he was sexy. Had he ever been this sexy?
“Cool bracelet. What is it?”
He lifted his hand from her, and she immediately regretted asking him the question. “Oh, I picked it up in France. It’s Latin. It says in vino veritas .”
Bex reluctantly slid her foot from his knee and sat up straight in her chair. “It looks great on you.”
“Thank you.” He stared at her a moment. “You seem . . . different.”
She was surprised to hear him echo the thoughts she’d been having. “So do you. But I guess that’s to be expected after all this time. We’re not the same people we were.”
“Nope. Is this strange?”
Bex relaxed against the chair. Maybe it was due to the alcohol, but she didn’t want to put up a facade with him. “A little. Is it strange for you?”
“Yeah. A little,” he said.
Yikes. Bex grimaced. “I want you to know that I thought long and hard about coming back here. I almost didn’t.”
“What made up your mind?”
“Honestly, it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”
“I get it. And I understand.” He looked at her pointedly. “ Really. Do your thing. We’ll settle into a groove, and this won’t feel bizarre anymore.” He rested his arm on the table and leaned back in his chair. “Anyway, I’ll be out of your hair by the middle of next month.” He adjusted the bracelet on his wrist, and it seemed a subconscious action, like when he’d twirl the ring she’d given him.
He looked off into the distance at something then stood. He looked down at her, the hint of a smile curving his lips. “You good now?”
Bex nodded. “Thanks again.”
He gave her a gallant bow. “You’re welcome.”
As she watched him walk away into the night, she felt a pang of longing so strong that she almost went after him and asked him to dance. Would that be so wrong? They seemed to be getting along so well.
Okay, Bex, pull your head out. You just had an open conversation and acknowledged any weirdness. That wasn’t the bright green light she needed. Time to move past him and live your life. The life you chose to pursue here in Ribbon Ridge, aka Archer Central.
That she now had an unexpected desire to rekindle things with her ex was a bummer. She thought of what Cameron had told her—that Hayden had taken years to truly get over her and was in a great place now. She couldn’t mess that up. He deserved every happiness, and she needed to leave him the hell alone.
Come next month he might be out of her hair, but she didn’t think he’d exit her thoughts so easily.