When We Kiss (14 page)

Kyle shook his head. “Dude, we're going to be uncles. That's crazy.”

“I really can't believe Evan is going to be a dad.” Just the thought nearly gave Liam hives. To have someone that dependent on him . . . He inwardly cringed.

“I know, right? He's the last Archer I would've expected.” Kyle gave him a taunting grin. “After you, of course.”

Liam smiled back as they fell back into their brotherly teasing. This he could handle. “Natch.”

Derek and Sean strolled up.

“Ready?” Kyle asked.

“Let's go,” Sean said. “Tori and I told Evan and Alaina we'd stock their fridge with some staples before they got home. Can't leave a pregnant woman without pickles or ice cream or whatever.”

Kyle laughed as he remotely unlocked the car. “Tori's being too nice. Aren't we supposed to short-sheet their bed or fill their bathtub with cornflakes?”

Derek snorted. “What is this, nineteen sixty?”

“Hey, that would be hilarious,” Sean said. “But I doubt they'd appreciate us messing with their new place.”

They'd scored a gated nine-acre property with a sprawling six-thousand-square-foot house just south of Ribbon Ridge and had moved in only a week before they'd gotten married.

“You've been watching the house while they've been gone, right?” Liam asked as they all climbed into the car. “Are those asshole paparazzi gone?”

“Finally,” Sean said. “The last ones cleared out at the beginning of the week. They threatened to come back as soon as they heard Alaina was back in town, but I made it clear that everyone in Ribbon Ridge would make their lives difficult. Good luck finding a place to stay in town.”

“Not gonna happen,” Kyle said as he started the car.

“Or eating or getting gas,” Sean continued.

Derek turned from the front passenger seat and threw a grin back at Liam and Sean. “I love this town.”

Kyle pulled out of the parking lot and got on the highway toward Ribbon Ridge. “Is Aubrey coming tomorrow night?”

The earlier irritation Liam had battled resurfaced. Kyle wasn't going to give him shit again, was he? “No, why?”

Kyle shrugged. “She came last week to watch
Game of Thrones
, and it seems like she's pretty friendly with the girls. I just thought she might come. I'll talk to Maggie, see if she knows.”

Liam didn't want to see Aubrey tomorrow night. He'd spend the entire time fantasizing about her and ending up picturing her with Stuart the Accountant. It was probably—no it
absolutely
was—selfish of him, but he couldn't do it. “I think she's too busy with the appeal.” And that wasn't a lie. She had to finish it this week.

“Good point,” Derek said. “I'll be so glad when that's over.”

Kyle scoffed. “No kidding. Total pain in my ass. My restaurant should've been open months ago.”

Though Liam wasn't personally involved in The Alex, he still wanted this resolved for his family. He was pissed that the Parkers had caused this nightmare in the first place. But it would be over soon, and then he could get back to Denver. Back to his life.

Away from Aubrey Tallinger.

A
UBREY CAUTIOUSLY LET
herself into the back door of the Archers' house for dinner on Sunday night. She'd thought about declining Chloe's invitation, but why? She couldn't resist
Game of Thrones
on their theater screen with their theater sound system. Plus, they were her friends—including Liam.

Yeah, right.

She hadn't seen or talked to him since Thursday night. Would he be here? She assumed so. Would they pretend it had never happened? Would the air crackle between them like a late-summer storm?

Not if she didn't let it.

Determined to be as chill as the beer she was about to drink, she moved into the kitchen and smiled. “Hi!”

Tori immediately turned from the counter. “Hey, Aubrey, I'm so glad you came!” She moved closer and lowered her voice. “Feeling much better than Friday, I hope?”

“Yes, you?”

Tori nodded. “I'm going with I was out of practice. I haven't had a girls' night in forever.”

Aubrey laughed. “I'll go with that, too. Perfect.”

“What's perfect?”

Aubrey turned at the sound of Liam's voice. He'd come down the back stairs, apparently. His hair was damp as if he'd just showered, and he smelled like it, too—fresh, clean, way too sexy. He wore a heather-blue T-shirt and a pair of jeans with a snag on the thigh. Perfect, indeed.

Chill, Aubrey, remember?

“Oh, nothing,” Tori said, thankfully saving Aubrey from her momentary lack of speech and reason.

Liam looked past them at the counter. “What's for dinner?”

“Taco bar,” Tori said. “There's chicken and carnitas, corn and flour tortillas, shells, even salad makings if you'd rather have taco salad.”

Aubrey's stomach growled. She could so get used to these Sunday dinners.

“I'm going to grab a beer.” Liam cast his steel-blue gaze toward Aubrey. “You want one?”

“Sure.”

He headed toward the tap, and she followed, thinking she ought to say
something
about the other night. Apologize, at least.

He grabbed a couple of pint glasses and set to filling them.

Aubrey stood on the opposite side of the bar from him. It was far safer to have solid granite and wood cabinetry between them. “I'm sorry about the other night. I was, uh, pretty toasted.”

“I'll say.” He chuckled as he handed her the beer.

So they were going to laugh it off? Sounded good to her. “I hope we're still friends.”

“Yep.” He lowered his voice and glanced around. “Did you know you're actually my first woman friend?”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “Why does this not surprise me?”

He shrugged. “Because you know me pretty well.”

She ignored the little jolt of pleasure that shot through her. “I wanted to ask if you could recommend where to go rafting in southern Oregon. I'm planning a trip this summer with my aunt and uncle.”

His eyes instantly lit, and she realized in that moment that an excited Liam made everything around him exciting. She suddenly felt more engaged, more
alive
. “There are so many awesome places. And I know a guy who does really fantastic trips on the Upper Klamath. I'll e-mail you a list tomorrow.” He took a drink of beer. “I haven't been down there in years. Sounds like a great time.”

Was he angling for an invitation? Even if he were, she wasn't going to offer one. Instead, maybe she could get him to talk about whatever he was planning for the summer. “Do you raft much anymore?”

“At least a couple times a summer, but usually in Colorado. I haven't done something up here in a long time. Might be overdue.”

She perched on one of the barstools. “What else do you do in the summer?”

He swallowed another drink of beer. “Rock climbing, hiking, flying, lots of skydiving.”

“Is that still your favorite thing?”

“Yep.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why all the questions?”

“Just curious, making small talk, like
friends
do.” She sipped her beer. “Plus, you offered to take me flying, remember. Or was that riding on your bike? Assuming you got a helmet.”

He winced. “Not yet. And yes, I remember the flying. We talked about next weekend, right?”

“Depends on whether I have to work—I've got a busy week ahead, and I still have to finish the zoning brief.”

“What's taking so long?” He dropped his head briefly, then looked back up with a half-smile. “I didn't mean it to sound like that. I just thought you were going to send me a draft, and you're two weeks in.”

Honestly, she thought she would've sent him a draft by now, too, but things had been really hectic. “I've had a couple of things blow up at work, and one of the other attorneys had a crisis last week that we all pitched in to help with.” They did that for each other all the time. It was one of the reasons she loved working for such a small, intimate firm.

“No worries. I'm sure it's coming along great.”

For the most part. For whatever reason, Aubrey was second-guessing almost everything she wrote. But then, she was more personally involved in this case than perhaps anything she'd ever done. She'd come to know this family so well. Plus, she'd been privy to the origination of the idea of the entire project—she was the first person Alex had shared it with,
and
he'd entrusted her to ensure it came to fruition. If Parker won his appeal, she sometimes thought that no one would feel the loss more keenly than her.

Aubrey only nodded. “I'll send it over as soon as it's done.” She had a fleeting urge to bail on dinner and the show, but her stomach growled again, and she decided that was a bad idea.

Liam braced his palms on the counter. “Back to the flying. How about we go after you file the brief? It'll be a sort of celebration.”

She squinted at him. “I'm not sure I want to celebrate before a decision is made. I don't want to jinx anything.”

“I didn't realize you were superstitious. That's silly. We're celebrating you finishing the brief, not defeating the Parkers—but don't worry, we'll celebrate that, too.” He said this with such certainty and his eyes were so clear with conviction that she couldn't help but believe it. At least right now, looking at him. He did wonders for her confidence, she realized. Maybe because
he
was so confident.

“Dinner!” Kyle called out. Archers filtered into the kitchen from who-knew-where, and everyone made a big deal of allowing Alaina to eat first. “We're having tacos tonight because that's what the expectant mother requested. I sense several taco bars in our future.”

“For at least the next seven months,” Alaina said, laughing. “Thank you. Fair warning, I might eat everything that's not touched, so dish up!”

The line formed for the taco bar, which was situated on both sides of the main kitchen island, and it moved pretty quickly. Liam and Aubrey were last, and by the time Aubrey had her plate ready, she realized there weren't any chairs left at the table.

Emily looked up from her seat. “I'm so sorry! I have two more chairs on order—they're being delivered Wednesday. For now, you'll have to sit at the counter. Or in the dining room. Sit wherever you like.” She started to stand. “Or Rob and I can move.”

Liam waved her back down. “Don't be silly. Aubrey and I will find a spot.” He looked over at her. “Like Mom said, there's the island or the beer bar, or the dining room, but that's pretty formal, or we can head downstairs to the game area. The card table has a hard top on it. Or there's the bar down there, too.”

The Archers' house was immense, but then, to fit a family of nine, it had needed to be. They were also a family of wealth, so they had things like game areas, theaters, wine cellars, gyms, and outdoor inground pools.

Going anywhere outside the kitchen meant being alone with Liam. “Here's fine.” She took her plate back over to the beer tap and sat on the stool she'd used earlier.

Liam joined her, taking the stool to her right. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and set it on the counter.

They were close enough that Aubrey could feel his warmth and smell his shower gel. It would be so easy to edge toward him, to nudge her thigh against his. But friends didn't do that.

“You know, I should be the one apologizing for the other night.” His voice was low, his attention on the soft taco he'd rolled in his hand. “I was the sober one, and I shouldn't have . . . Anyway, I shouldn't have.”

Wow, this was a sweet side to him. Seemed like she was seeing all sorts of different sides of Liam—aspects she'd seen glimpses of during their various hook-ups. He was turning out to maybe be the man she'd hoped he was. The man she'd started to fall for. She liked this Liam. “It's not your fault at all. You were just trying to be a gentleman and make sure I didn't pass out in my own vomit or something. I'm the one who took advantage.”

He laughed. “That's quite a picture. I'd argue there wasn't any advantage to take. I'm always game for a night of fun with you.” He flicked her a glance, and its heat was enough to scald every part of her. In the most delicious way possible. “But I get that you're with Stuart.”

He hadn't called him Stuart the Accountant. And she wasn't actually
with
Stuart anymore. If she ever had been. She didn't tell Liam that, however. If she could hide behind a faux relationship with Stuart, why not make things a little bit easier for herself? If Liam thought she was off-limits, he wouldn't flirt with her or touch her. She could handle a toned-down Liam far more than a Liam who was on the hunt.

But oh how she loved being his prey.

She forced herself to focus on her dinner. Wasn't she supposed to be starving?

His phone vibrated, and she glanced at the screen. There was a text that read:
Date confirmed! Let me know when you want to practice.
This was followed by a thumbs-up icon.

Liam picked it up and clicked the screen off. “That's my friend Rylan.”

“What are you going to practice?”

“Just some acrobatics.” There was something in his tone that didn't quite ring true.

Aubrey looked over at him. “Skydiving?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

The fact that he wasn't regaling her with details seemed a bit suspicious, but she didn't say so.

She managed to make it through the rest of dinner and the show afterward without thinking of Liam naked. And by the time she was getting ready to leave, she was almost convinced that they
could
be friends. Still, she was glad for the opportunity to walk out with Sean and Tori before Liam could offer to escort her to her car. Not that he would've, but it was a bullet she'd just as soon dodge.

“I'll look forward to reading the brief,” Liam said to her as she turned to go.

“Thanks, I'll send it soon.”

She walked out with Tori and Sean and hoped the brief would be good enough. For more reasons than she cared to count.

L
IAM HAD RETREATED
to his room to catch up on some e-mail before heading to bed. His mind kept returning to Aubrey. He'd had a good time with her tonight, and they hadn't tried to paw each other. Or even flirt, really. Okay, maybe a little. He couldn't seem to
not
flirt with her. How could he avoid trying to make her smile or coax that sparkle into her eye? He quite simply couldn't. Around her, he became a boy with an infatuation.

His phone vibrated on the desk, and his pulse quickened, as he hoped it was her. But it was Whitney calling. He still hadn't remembered to block her number.

Annoyed with himself as much as her, he answered. “You have to stop calling me.”

“Hello to you, too,” she said, all sarcasm and spite. “I'm surprised you picked up. You seem to be treating me like the plague.”

“I'd actually rather have the plague. It's easier to get rid of than you. But I suppose until they come up with an antibiotic that cures Whitney Stalking, I'm screwed.”

Her loud laughter made him pull the phone away from his ear. “You are so funny. I'd say you're being mean, but I actually think you're flirting with me.”

“I've never flirted with you.” Not even when he'd slept with her. Not at all like he did with Aubrey. They weren't remotely in the same league, as far as he was concerned. “Whitney, I don't know how to be any more plain—I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. I'd be happy pretending we'd never met.” He gripped the phone tightly and practically growled into it.
“Really
.
”

“Too bad because we
have
met. And I know you as intimately as anyone possibly could.”

He regretted everything they'd done together. “You don't know shit.”

“I know you've got this oval freckle on your inner thigh and that if I stroke your balls a certain way, you'll come twice as hard.”

“And this conversation is over. I'm blocking you now.” He pulled the phone away again but heard her yell.

“Wait! Don't hang up.” She lowered her voice an octave. Thank goodness, because he was pretty sure all the dogs in the area were on high alert due to her pitch. “I have a proposition for you. About the zoning appeal.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Are you still going to pretend you have nothing to do with it?”

“My dad is completely responsible for hiring Sutherlin and filing the appeal, not me.”

He believed that much. “But I can't imagine you mind. Or that you're an innocent bystander. Last time we saw each other, you said you'd talk to your dad if I slept with you.”

“I don't remember saying that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not exactly, but I'm pretty sure that's what you meant.”

“Well,” she said pertly, “it doesn't matter. I'd like to propose a formal arrangement. You make yourself . . .
available
to me at least once a quarter, and I'll convince my dad to drop the appeal.”