When We Kiss (3 page)

“Hey,” Kyle called after him. “If you're leaving, don't forget about the wedding brunch tomorrow morning. Eleven o'clock.”

He paused on his way out of the kitchen and looked over his shoulder at his younger-by-a-few-minutes brother. With his surfer blond hair and blue-green eyes, he took more after Mom, while Liam took more after Dad. But they shared the trademark Archer nose and square chin.

“Why do you assume I'll be gone all night?” The fact that Kyle had reminded him of an event that was taking place
here
, where Liam was staying and therefore sleeping, inferred he didn't think Liam would be home.

Kyle laughed. “Dude, you hook up with someone every time you come back to town. You disappear overnight all the time. No worries—go do your thing.”

Yes, he did do that. There'd been a long line of women before Aubrey, but the thought of finding someone else who wasn't her gave him a bad taste in his mouth.

He jogged upstairs and changed into jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and the riding boots he kept here. He shrugged into his leather jacket and zipped it up to his chin before snagging his helmet and gloves from the closet.

Another quick trek down the back stairs and he was soon outside, weaving his way through the cars parked between the garages. It was a good thing he didn't want to take a car; he wouldn't have been able to get one out. His bike was in the last garage, parked with a handful of ATVs they used from time to time on his parents' property. That sounded fun, too—maybe someone would want to go for a ride tomorrow.

Right now, though, he was going for a ride. Hopefully the speed and the brisk night wind would be enough to drive Aubrey Tallinger from his mind. That's all he could hope for, since he was pretty sure his body would never be able to forget her.

L
IAM RODE NEARLY
to the beach and back, taking back roads he'd traveled hundreds of times. Though it was only April, it was warm, and the promise of summer was in the air.

He was exhausted, and it was going on eleven o'clock, but he wasn't ready to head home just yet in case people were still milling around the house at the reception. He didn't want to see his family, and he sure as hell didn't want to see Aubrey or her date.

He pulled into Ruckus, Ribbon Ridge's answer to a dive bar. On the western edge of town, it was the only alternative to The Arch and Vine, the Archers' flagship pub at the center of Ribbon Ridge. No way in hell was he going there, even though he knew none of his family would be there. One of the employees would still tell someone who would tell someone else, and soon every Archer would know Liam had shown up.

Even going to Ruckus, there was still a chance they'd find out he'd chosen to hang out at a dive bar over his own brother's dwindling wedding reception. Ribbon Ridge was, after all, a small town, and its inhabitants pretty much knew everyone else. Or at least they knew someone who knew someone. It was two degrees of separation instead of six.

He parked his bike and went into the windowless building. It was moderately crowded, but then it was Saturday night. There'd be a lot of nonlocals passing through town on their way home from the casino, which was on the way to the coast.

He beelined for the bar and set his helmet down. He recognized the bartender and nodded. “Hey, Brian, shot of Patrón.”

“You got it.” He poured and slid it over to Liam. “Lime or salt or anything?”

Liam shook his head just before tossing it back. The tequila slid down his throat and gave him the perfect mix of heat and hell yeah. “One more. Then a beer—whatever IPA you have on tap.” He preferred Archer beers to everything else, but you could only get them at an Archer brewpub or his parents' house. Okay, and at his place in Denver, since he regularly had kegs shipped to his condo and his office. It was the one piece of Ribbon Ridge he couldn't live without.

Really?
Beer
was the thing he couldn't live without? Shit, he was lame.

Brian refilled the shot glass with the tequila, then went to the tap at the other end of the bar.

“Drinking alone?” A honeyed, feminine voice came from his right. A voice he recognized. A voice he had a bone to pick with.

He turned his head and took in the curly blonde hair and razor-sharp brown eyes of Whitney Parker. “Not drinking with you, that's for sure.”

She sat down on the stool beside his, not appearing to care that he'd basically told her to get lost. “Ouch.” When Brian deposited Liam's beer, she flashed the bartender a smile. “I'll have what he's having—the shot and the beer. And put it on his tab.”

Liam had to respect her gall. One thing about Whitney Parker—she had a mind and drive of her own, and screw anyone who got in her way. It was how she'd grown a women's fitness-wear company from a college project into a massive success that would likely go public in the next two years. She was exactly the kind of woman Liam ought to go for on paper: gorgeous, confident, wicked smart, and a larger-than-life personality. Too bad she was also batshit crazy.

And it sounded like her apple hadn't fallen far from her father's tree, given his revenge plot against Dad.

Liam turned his head to look at her. “I heard your dad is trying to screw us over. That hotel was my brother's dying wish. Trying to block it is a real dick move.”

She turned toward the bar. “Yeah, well, I don't have anything to do with that.”

“Are you sure? Because as soon as I heard about it, I was certain you did. Aren't you still pissed that I didn't want to see you anymore?”

Brian dropped off her drinks and, to his credit, tried to pretend like he hadn't heard what Liam had said. Not that Liam cared.

She threw back her tequila shot and slammed the empty glass on the bar before giving him a blazing glare. “Classic. You think I'm waiting around for you like some lovelorn puppy? Get over yourself.”

Wait, she'd texted him not too long ago to ask if he'd be in town for Evan's wedding and, if so, suggested they hook up. Yep, crazy. “Okay, whatever you say. I still think you had something to do with the zoning appeal. What does your father care if we run a commercial business up there?”

“He owns the property at the bottom of the hill. He doesn't want a bunch of traffic going up the road.”

Liam turned his stool toward her. “There's nothing on that property. He doesn't live there.”

She sipped her beer. “Not yet, but he's considering building. He wants a retirement home. Or I might build something new there.”

“Uh-uh, not buying it. I know you finished your mega mansion between here and McMinnville just last year.” He'd been to the house while it was being built, and she'd regaled him with design plans. It was her dream house, and she was rightfully proud to be building it with her own money before she was even thirty. She looked at it like a goddamned trophy. “The amount of time and money you spent on that place? No way you're moving. Your dad's just being a prick because my mom dumped him a thousand years ago and married my dad, and you're probably egging him on.”

She rolled her black-lined eyes. “You Archers are such arrogant jerks. It wouldn't matter who was trying to rezone that property. My dad would still be fighting it.”

Liam laughed. “Bullshit. But whatever. We'll have our day in court and kick your asses.”

“You can hope so, but our attorney is one of the best land-use lawyers in the state. While yours is . . . What's her name? Audrey Culpepper? Fulbright? Tarryton?” She shook her head. “I don't remember. Audrey never-heard-of-her. Good luck with that.”

Liam wished he'd paid more attention to this entire situation. He'd dealt with a ton of zoning issues in Colorado, and granted the law was a bit different between states, but he had experience. Damn it, he should've gotten involved. Maybe it wasn't too late. “Who's your dad's attorney?”

“Frank Sutherlin,” she said smugly.

Shit.
He was one of the best land-use attorneys in Oregon—in the top five for sure. And expensive as hell. Meanwhile, they had Aubrey, who'd only been practicing for about three years, and while land use was one of her firm's areas of expertise, she didn't have the decades of experience Sutherlin did.

Liam took a long drink of beer and scrutinized Whitney. He hadn't seen her in almost a year—he'd run into her last summer, probably when he'd been home for Derek's wedding. That was the event that had garnered them an expensive fine from the county for supposedly having a commercial event at The Alex before it had been officially rezoned from agricultural. “You're the one who reported Derek's wedding to the county. We had to pay five thousand bucks for that bullshit.”

She shrugged. “Not my problem. And no, I didn't report anything.” She took another drink of her beer and turned toward him. “Why do you think so poorly of me? I thought we had a lot of fun together.” She dropped her arm and situated it just so that her breast pushed up against the V-neck of her shirt.

He glanced at her impressive cleavage. “Very subtle, Parker. Still not interested.”

“I don't know why. I don't make any demands. You come to town, we screw, you go back to Denver, it's all good. I don't even care who you fuck when you get home, do I?”

It's true that she'd never asked, never even seemed to care what he did when he wasn't in Ribbon Ridge. She
had
asked him to increase the frequency of his visits, which she'd thought he'd done. In actuality, he'd come home to earn his skydiving certification. He could've done the same in Denver, but he had a friend with a skydiving and flying business out in McMinnville, and they shared an intense love for all things extreme.

He set his beer on the bar. “Nice pitch, but I'm still not buying. I'll pay for your drinks, however, because I'm that kind of guy.”

“A real gentleman.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Liam turned his stool and looked down the bar toward Brian, who was chatting with a server. It took him a moment to make eye contact, but he immediately knew Liam wanted his tab.

Liam glanced over at Whitney as he picked up his beer and downed half of what was left. “What would it take to get your dad to drop his opposition to the zoning change?”

Whitney pursed her lips, then blew air through them. “Gee, I don't know. I'd have to ask him. But I'm sure if his daughter was happy, he might be persuaded. I wonder what you could do to make me happy . . . ” She tapped a manicured nail against her pink-glossed lip and slid him a seductive stare.

“Oh, for Christ's sake, you're as subtle as a goddamned two-by-four.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a picture of Evan and Alaina with a text that read:
Thanks for everything, bro. You were a great best man.

And now Liam felt like shit for leaving before the reception had ended. His eye landed on the background of the picture. There in the corner was Aubrey, her hand on her date's shirt, smiling as she looked up at him. They weren't kissing, but that was precisely the kind of look you exchanged right before you did. Well, if you were normal. If you were fucked up like Liam, smiling wasn't always part of the recipe for great sex.

Suddenly he didn't want to go home and see that. He wanted another shot of tequila.

Brian slapped the bill in front of him, but Liam shook his head, setting his phone on the bar. “Change of plans.” He nudged the empty shot glass back toward him. “Double, please.”

“Oooh, now we're talking,” Whitney cooed beside him. “Another for me, too, but just a single. One of us has to drive.”

Liam cast her a glare. “You are not driving me home. Why are you even still here?”

She batted her eyelashes at him and lowered her voice to the seductive growl he'd known so well. “Because deep down, you know you want me.”

He snorted and waited for his tequila, downing it as soon as it came. A warm buzz started behind his eyes and took the edge off his frustration regarding Aubrey. Why was he so worked up? In his experience, she was way past her expiration date. It was time for him to move on to the next thing. He glanced over at Whitney and was instantly turned off. She wasn't only a step backward—and he didn't do that—she just wasn't Aubrey.

Apparently Aubrey didn't have an expiration date.

Damn and double damn. He slammed the rest of his beer.

“I'm so driving you home,” Whitney said.

He narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing.

“I didn't say I'd take you back to my place and screw you six ways from Sunday, but I could totally do that, too.” She gave him a saucy grin. “Just say the word.”

“The word is
no
.” He shook his head at her, perversely enjoying turning her down again and again. He didn't believe for one minute that she wasn't involved with their zoning trouble or that she was over him. “You were fun for a while, but that was a long time ago.”

She shrugged, trying to give off an air of nonchalance, but he saw the fire burning in her eyes. She wanted him, and she was pulling out all the stops to get him. He wouldn't put it past her to roofie his drink. Shit, he'd turned his back on his beer when he'd asked for the damn check!

He looked at his empty pint glass. Too late now. Whatever damage might've been in his beer was done. He felt okay, just buzzed. And getting drunker by the minute actually. He picked up his phone to text Kyle to come pick him up, but that damn picture of Aubrey and her date taunted him.

Her words from earlier weaseled their way into his brain and dug their hooks into him.

Even if I
do
get bored, I will
not
call you. We're done.

He dropped his phone back down and waved for another shot. Brian poured a double without asking—good man.

Liam sipped this one. He willed the alcohol to burn all thoughts of Aubrey from his mind. He couldn't believe she was done. No, he couldn't believe he
wasn't
. Why couldn't he just accept Whitney's offer? She was beautiful, willing, and he knew exactly what sort of hot time he'd be getting.

But she was also nuts and probably fucking his family over. Worse, she was ruining Alex's legacy with all this zoning crap.

He threw the rest of the tequila back and pulled out his wallet. Time to get away from Toxic Tilly. He fished out a fifty and dropped it on the bar, then caught Brian's attention and gave him a nod.

He picked up his phone, turned, and slid off his chair. Whitney's hand caught his bicep.

“Whoa, there,” she said. “You don't want to go face-first into the floor. This place is filthy.”

He shook her off and tossed her a glare. “You thought I was falling?”

Her hand grazed his back. “I'm happy to catch you.”

He flinched and moved away from her, striding toward the door with purpose despite the slight tunneling of his vision. Yeah, he was kind of fucked up right now.

He pushed open the door and stepped outside. The temperature had dropped, but it was still warm. Warm-ish. Okay, that breeze was a little chilly.

“Forget something?” Whitney's voice drew him to turn around. She held his helmet in her dark red manicured hands.

“Gimme that.” He snatched it away from her and wove toward his bike.

“You aren't going to ride, are you?” She caught up to him and touched his arm. “Hey, Liam. I'm serious now. I'll drive you home.”

He scowled at her. “I'll call my brother.”

“And wait for him to come get you? It's getting cold.” She shook her heads.
Heads? Dude, pull your head out of your drunk ass right now before you do something stupid.