LIAM POPPED A grape into his mouth while Aubrey refilled his wineglass. She’d graciously offered to share her pinot after their dining-room table adventure. She’d put her yoga pants back on but was now wearing his long-sleeved T-shirt while he was bare-chested. She didn’t seem to mind, as he kept catching her staring at his abs.
He would’ve stared at her chest, too, if she hadn’t been wearing his shirt. As it was, her nipples were clearly visible, and the swell of her flesh beneath the cotton only enticed him more. On second thought, he was staring at her chest anyway.
“What?” she asked, her brow furrowing for a brief moment before she took a sip of wine.
“Just appreciating the view.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve looked better.”
Actually, she’d never looked more beautiful. Her hair was slightly mussed, her cheeks were still pink from the sex, and he loved that he’d made her look like that. Pride and a savage sense of possession crested through him.
Possession? Where the hell had that come from? He inwardly shook himself. Get your head on, Archer.
He shoved another grape into his mouth before he said something stupid, like telling her that she was completely different from any other woman he’d been with. Would that be so bad?
It would be when the woman in question wanted a steady, long-term relationship headed for the altar. She’d been pretty clear about that when she’d told him she wanted Mr. Right instead of Mr. Right Now. He wasn’t ready for that leap, and he might never be.
He’d built the life he wanted, and it wasn’t even in the same state as her, let alone with the same goals. She wanted a husband. Stability. He wanted the next adrenaline rush. Which is what she was for him, he realized.
Fuck.
He took a long drink of wine.
“Listen, I can talk to my uncle. He’s done a lot of land use. Honestly, he should’ve probably been helping me from the start—and he has been, in an advisory capacity. But I admit I didn’t have him read the brief before I sent it to you. He’s been really busy. He had a complicated trial to deal with.”
Liam was relieved for the change of topic, even if it was a potentially touchy one. “I’m sorry I said the brief wasn’t good enough. You did a great job, considering it’s your first one.”
She glanced at him as she plucked a cracker from the plate she’d set out. Once they’d pulled themselves together after the dining-room escapade, they’d come to the kitchen, where she’d assembled a snack plate of fruit, cheese, and crackers—and at his behest, salami. He was thankful because he hadn’t eaten dinner.
“Don’t feel like you have to pacify me,” she said. “Do you want to hire a new attorney? Someone with more experience? Maybe you could get Martin Delacorte.”
Delacorte was one of the few attorneys with even more land-use experience than Sutherlin. However, the brief was due in four days. “It’s too late to hire someone else.” He realized immediately that had been the wrong thing to say. “I don’t want to hire someone else. You’ll do fine.”
She nodded, but he didn’t think he’d made her feel any better. Damn it, he was an asshole. Wait, why was he overthinking this? This was business. She’d written a brief that needed more work. If she’d been anyone else, he wouldn’t have thought twice about telling her that.
But she wasn’t anyone else. She was the woman he was sleeping with. The woman he thought about more than he’d ever thought about another person outside of his family. That he was putting her in front of his family—this entire project meant everything to them, and by extension, to him—was disconcerting.
She lifted a shoulder. “If you say so.”
He wished they hadn’t had to talk about the brief. It had put a damper on his postcoital bliss.
It was also reality, and they couldn’t hide from it. No, but they could live in the moment and forget about everything else. He wanted tonight with her. Needed it.
She rolled a piece of cheese and a piece of salami together and took a bite. Absurdly, the cylindrical shape of the food entering her mouth sent a jolt of lust straight to his cock. Shit, he was a man obsessed. Hard not to be when she was sitting across the table from him with her sultry, just-been-screwed gaze lingering on his pecs. Reality could go fuck itself.
He helped himself to the food for a few minutes, hoping to stave off his caveman instinct, which was screaming at him to throw her over his shoulder and cart her upstairs.
She sipped her wine. “So what’s going on with taking me flying? I’m submitting the brief on Monday, and you promised me a trip in an airplane.”
“I did. I’ll see if we can go on Tuesday. If you can get away in the afternoon.”
“As it happens, the deposition I had scheduled was canceled, so I am free.”
Had they just made a date? No, this was part of their friends thing. Were they friends? Tonight they were definitely lovers, but like she’d said, it was only for tonight. And he’d take what he could get.
What did he really want?
Nope, not going there. That fell firmly in the reality category, and that was off-limits tonight.
As if she’d read his mind, she said. “This is not a date. Just to be clear. We go right back to the Friend Zone tomorrow morning.”
He picked up a cracker and a piece of salami, then sat back in his chair. “Got it. Although, you missed out on some fun times when you decided to dump me.”
She crossed her arms and also sat back. “Is that right? Why don’t you enlighten me?”
And he’d walked right into that one, too. What would he have done? He would’ve seen her at Christmas if she’d been home. And New Year’s if she’d bothered to answer his texts. And again in February after he’d dislocated his shoulder. Three perfectly good opportunities to spend time together and have a lot of sex. But that wasn’t what she was asking. She wanted more. She deserved more. He wanted to give her more. Still, he didn’t think he could ever give her what she wanted—a picket fence, a family, forever.
“I would’ve taken you up to our family cabin during the holidays. We would’ve skied, had a romantic dinner at Timberline Lodge, and made love in front of the fireplace.”
She looked mildly surprised or maybe doubtful, her brow arching. “Really?”
Ouch, her opinion stung, but could he fault her? “Yeah, really.” He’d had that exact plan in mind when he’d come home for Christmas.
“What else?”
“We would’ve spent New Year’s together—either a swanky party in Portland or something quieter, maybe a cozy condo at the beach.”
She picked up her wineglass and smiled. “Sounds great. I love the beach. I’m saving up to buy a place there.”
His attention sharpened. “Are you?” He loved the Oregon coast. It was maybe the one thing that would eventually drive him out of Denver and back to Ribbon Ridge. Some day. “Where?”
“I like Pacific City a lot, but I love Cannon Beach. It’s just so expensive. And not quite as accessible to Ribbon Ridge, since it’s farther up the coast.”
He’d looked at a few investment properties in Cannon Beach and around Lincoln City. “I love Cannon Beach, too. It’s got a great, artsy vibe nowadays.”
She nodded as she swallowed a drink of wine and put her glass back down. “I’ve been meaning to take a cooking class down there.”
He knew what she was talking about—there was a culinary school that did interactive dinner and cooking shows. “Yeah, those sound fun.”
“Maybe we’ll go on our fictional beach trip.”
And that right there told him all he needed to know about their future. She didn’t see one. All of this talk was just that: talk. Meanwhile, he had tonight with her. He finished his wine and stood.
Without saying a word, he swept her from the chair into his arms and started toward the stairs.
She linked her hands behind his neck and held on. “What are you doing?”
“Surrendering to my inner caveman.”
She laughed, and the sound banished the impending sense of loss that had lodged into his chest a moment ago. “Are you staying the night, then?”
He started up the stairs. “I’ll stay as long as you let me.”
She didn’t answer him until he laid her on the bed. “Just tonight,” she said softly.
Her room was almost dark, with only the light from downstairs filtering up and faintly illuminating her face. He drank in the sight of her, from her red hair to his gray shirt clinging to her breasts to the black yoga pants hugging her hips and thighs to her bare feet, with adorable aqua-polished toes. He admired women, of course, appreciated them. But looking at Aubrey this was something more than that. That feeling from earlier stole over him. Possession. She was his. If only for tonight.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Nothing. Just . . . never mind.” He put his knee on the bed and leaned down to kiss her. She tasted of wine and desire. He pulled back. “I should go put the food away and turn off the lights.”
She curled her hands around his neck and tugged him down on top of her. “Later. You made me a promise earlier, and my patience just ran out.”
“Is that so?” He fitted his body over hers, marveling at how well they fit together. If he kept making these connections, he was going to be in way over his head.
She kissed along his jaw and nibbled his earlobe. “First one undressed gets to choose top or bottom for the preshow.”
He drew back and looked at her. She smiled seductively, and he knew what she meant. That was among his favorite things to do with her. He jumped up and shucked his jeans and underwear. “I choose bottom.” He loved the feel of her hair over his thighs.
“No fair! You have way less clothes on than me.”
He watched her scramble to strip. “I didn’t make the rules, babe.”
“I’m surprised you’re following them. You Archers are notorious for walking outside the lines.”
He laughed. “You’re onto us.”
Nude, she kneeled on the bed and crooked her finger at him. “I’m onto you. Now get over here so I can literally get on you.”
He’d never moved so fast in his life.
WHEN LIAM WOKE, the gray dawn was just creeping through the blinds of Aubrey’s bedroom. She slept closest to the window, her hair fanned against the pillow. She lay curled on her side away from him. Even in sleep, he’d maintained a possessive hold on her hip, his hand splayed over her naked flesh.
There was that word again: possession.
But the night was over. Their fantasy had yielded to reality along with the darkness succumbing to the sunrise. Reluctantly, he let go of her hip, but not before he rolled close and brushed his lips along her collarbone.
She stirred, sighing, but didn’t wake.
He slipped from the bed and went in search of his clothes. He glanced at the clock on her bedside table. His parents were early risers. If he didn’t hurry, he might run into them as he snuck into the house, like some high schooler who’d stayed out all night. As it was, he might end up running into at least Dad, who loved bike rides at dawn.
He tiptoed downstairs and grabbed his jacket from the floor and helmet from the window seat. As he made his way to the door, he stopped in the entryway. Images of her plastered between him and the wood filled his memory. He looked toward the dining room and was immediately assaulted by the feel of her silky flesh as she held him tight between her legs while he thrust into her. He turned toward the stairs, recalling the final act—the delicious stroke of her tongue on his cock while he licked her slick folds, followed by her riding him with slow and devastating precision before he’d flipped her over and pounded into her until they’d both shouted their release.
Damn if he wasn’t ready to go again right now. He set his coat and helmet on the bottom stairs and made his way up, not to initiate round three, but to tell her he was leaving. He didn’t want to skulk off into the dawn like some one-night stand. They’d never been that, had they? He didn’t think so.
He went back into her room and stopped short at seeing her sitting up in bed.
“You’re leaving?”
“I was about to. I came up to say good-bye.” He inwardly cringed at that word. It made the entire night seem like a prelude to the end. When all he wanted was a to be continued.
Her gaze dipped to his crotch. “Are you sure you came up just to say good-bye?”
He smiled. “I’d blame morning wood, but the truth is I was thinking of last night. I really did come up to say good-bye. And thank you. I had a great time.”
She slid from beneath the covers and strode nude across the bedroom to her bathroom, where she opened the door and grabbed a robe from a hook on the back. His erection intensified and wasn’t the least bit mollified by the garment now cloaking her spectacular body.
“I’ll walk you down,” she said, preceding him from the room.
He trailed her down the stairs. The house was quiet, the space between them equally so, but there was a peace and a comfort he’d never experienced. Maybe the magic of the night wasn’t over, after all.
She opened the door as he shrugged into his coat. He tucked his helmet beneath his arm and went to kiss her, but she pulled back. “I’ll let you know what my uncle says about the brief.”
It was back to business, then. Back to being friends.
Maybe there hadn’t really been any magic at all.
“Great. Talk to you later, then.” The second he stepped over the threshold into the cool morning air, it was like waking from a dream. Suddenly he felt agitated and unnerved, as if he’d been sexually frustrated instead of deeply satisfied. The rush, he realized, had worn off.
Or been stripped away.
He climbed onto his bike and backed out of her driveway before speeding off toward home. He really hoped he didn’t run into either of his parents. For maybe the first time ever, he worried they might ask questions about where he’d spent the night, and he didn’t want to answer them.
How he wished he was going to his own condo back in Denver. He wanted his bed, his things, his world. Here, he was a visitor, a guest. Which was bullshit. Ribbon Ridge was his home. He ought to feel as comfortable returning here as the rest of his siblings had. Every single one of them had left and come back—save Hayden, who’d done the opposite.
They’d embraced the legacy that Alex had left them, working together and making lives in Ribbon Ridge, as Alex had hoped. A tiny voice in the back of his head said you could do that, too. Except he’d spent his entire adult life keeping everyone on the outside. Keeping all of the messy emotion out of his neatly ordered and carefully planned life.
Why was this bothering him now? Because he was spending too much time in Ribbon Ridge. And he liked it. He liked being around his family and helping with the zoning—it wasn’t much, but it was something. Plus, it was what Alex wanted.
He gripped the handlebars and gritted his teeth. Alex shouldn’t have the satisfaction. He’d already gotten what he wanted: death. While they’d been left to pick up the pieces. Watching his siblings and his parents, Liam would say they’d done a pretty damn good job, too. They laughed, they made memories, all without Alex being a part of it. It was almost like he’d never been.
A hole opened in his chest. It was black and sucking and threatened to pull him inward until there was nothing left. Alex was gone, and they’d all moved on. How could they?
He rode past the turnoff to the house and kept on going.
AUBREY’S WALK TO work later that morning felt like an arduous trek, thanks to the weight of her thoughts. After Liam had left, she’d read through his comments and suggestions on the zoning brief. He was right about most of it. And she felt like an idiot for thinking it was ready. It wasn’t bad, but it could be better.
She felt like an even bigger idiot for allowing him to spend the night. No, she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t have regrets, that she’d accept and appreciate it for what it was—one last night with the man she’d worked so hard not to fall in love with.
She’d been infatuated with him for sure, but love? He was smart, funny, completely charming. And he was nice—all the little things he did when they were together made her feel special, like he really cared about her, that he wasn’t just going through some motions. He was also incapable of commitment, so it didn’t really matter what she labeled her feelings.
Once the zoning was decided, Liam would go back to Denver and she could go back to getting over him. But the zoning wasn’t over yet, and the biggest hurdle—the oral argument—was yet to come. First she had to submit this brief, and right now she couldn’t. Not without her uncle’s help.
She walked up the steps to the remodeled house that was her uncle’s law firm and made a beeline for her office, where she dumped her laptop. She came right back out again and stopped in the kitchen for a cup of coffee before heading up to her uncle’s office.
His door was ajar, and she rapped on the wood before pushing it open. “Morning, Uncle Dave.”
“Morning.” He sneezed, then grabbed a tissue to blow his nose.
“Are you feeling okay?”
He tossed the tissue in the garbage and pulled his glasses off, setting them on his desk. “Just a bit of a cold.” His eyes narrowed with concern. “What’s going on? You have a look—like you’re unsettled about something. Is it the zoning case?”
She exhaled, feeling relieved that he’d been the one to bring it up. She sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk. “How’d you know?”
He chuckled, which spurred a minor coughing fit. She scanned his desk and saw that he had a water bottle. She plucked it up and handed it to him as soon as he was done wheezing.
She didn’t like the sound of that cough. “Yikes, that doesn’t sound good.”
He sipped the water several times. “Just a run-of-the-mill spring cold.”
She’d had plenty of those. “If it isn’t better by Monday, you should see a doctor.”
“You sound like Aunt Cyndi.” He gave her a warm smile. “I appreciate you both. Now, continue please. What’s going on with the zoning? The brief’s due Monday, right?”
She sipped her coffee, then set it on his desk. “Yes. I’m finished with the draft. I shared it with Liam Archer, since he’s dealt with several zoning appeals in Denver. He found some places that ought to be strengthened.” Or maybe completely rewritten, but she’d let Uncle Dave make that call.
Uncle Dave sat back in his chair and studied her. “I see. Why didn’t you send it to me first? Liam Archer’s not a lawyer.”
“You’ve been really busy,” she said lamely. “I should’ve sent it to you.” She’d sent it to Liam because . . . because what? Because she’d hoped he would be impressed? Ugh, she was worse off than she thought. And she was tired of it.
“I’d love to take a look.” He turned his chair and put his glasses on to look at his computer screen. “Did you send it to me?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, but I will as soon as I get downstairs. I hate to ask you to work on the weekend, especially with a cold, but it’s due Monday.”
He smiled at her as he turned back toward her. “It’s okay. We’ll get it handled. We’re a good team.”
They were. She loved working with him, and it went beyond family. He was an exceptional attorney with a loyal and satisfied client base. She couldn’t have asked for a better professional path. She loved Ribbon Ridge and saw herself living here the rest of her life with her family. Her husband, whoever he turned out to be, and their children.
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” But there was more. She’d been thinking about it on the walk over this morning. “I was actually hoping you might do the oral argument, too.”
His eyebrows arched briefly. “Really? I would’ve thought you’d be excited to do it.”
She had been. She was particularly invested in this case because of Alex. He’d left this legacy for his family, and it was in jeopardy. “I thought I could watch you and learn. And I admit going up against a legend like Sutherlin intimidates me a bit.”
Uncle Dave grabbed another tissue and blew his nose. “Don’t let him. He’s kind of a blowhard, actually, and I’d bet the land-use board knows it. I’ll run through it with you—you’ll do great. Unless it’s more than that?”
It was. So much more. But she couldn’t tell him that. Well, she could, but she didn’t want to. “I might . . . I might need a break from this. It’s so important that they win, that this appeal is denied. So much is wrapped up in the project—and not just financially.”
“I know.” His gaze was warm, sympathetic. He knew how upset she’d been when Alex died. He’d come to the funeral with her and held her hand while she’d cried. “It’s important to me, too. If you really want me to do the argument, I will. But, Aubrey, this isn’t about your dad, is it? His expectations of you were completely unfair.” He was doing a good job of talking about her bouts of inadequacy without actually saying the words.
“I’m sure that’s part of it. But it is really critical that this turns out in the Archers’ favor.”
His answering smile was deeply reassuring. “It will. Don’t worry. Send me the brief, and I’ll read through it. We’ll work on it this weekend, okay?”
She realized how tight her muscles were as the tension seeped out of her. “Thanks.”
She felt much better. Now if she could just feel better about the rest of her life. “That sounds great.” She stood and picked up her coffee.
“Liam . . . Is he important to you somehow?” Uncle Dave asked, making her pause on the way to the door.
Was it obvious? How could that be? She’d barely talked about him, and Uncle Dave had never seen them together. “Not really.” At least he shouldn’t be.
The look he gave her said he maybe didn’t buy her answer, but he didn’t press the issue. And maybe that was why she spilled the beans. Or part of the beans, anyway.
“We see each other from time to time. Casually.”
“I see. Are you sure it’s just casual?”
She nodded.
“That’s too bad. Those Archers are good people, and I know you’re ready to settle down.”
She felt heat rising in her cheeks. “Uncle Dave.”
He chuckled again and managed to keep from coughing. “Sorry, your aunt and I talk. We can’t help it. Plus, I know you. You’re bright, beautiful, and ready to put down roots. I know how much you love it here.”
“I do. I can’t thank you enough for opening your home to me and giving me a future.”
“I didn’t give you anything—you earned it. Cyndi and I are proud to be here for you, and we want to see you happy. If Liam Archer makes you happy, why not make it more than causal?”
Because he doesn’t want what I want . . . the Ribbon Ridge life, the kids, the happily-ever-after. “I don’t think that’s in the cards. I’m not willing to compromise.”
His dark eyes lit with pride. “Atta girl.”
She nodded. “I’ll go send that brief.”
As she made her way back down to her office, she thought of calling Liam to tell him that Uncle Dave was on the case. But why? Just because she wanted to hear his voice?
Screw it. She was busy. Let him contact her. Or not, which was what he usually did after one of their hook-ups. Only this time was different, because he wasn’t already on a plane back to Denver.
She walked into her office and shut the door.
So many things were different this time. First and foremost, the friend thing. They now had a defined relationship aside from their mutual attraction.
She flopped into her chair and cupped her coffee mug between her palms.
Even that—the sex—had felt different. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why, just that it had felt richer, deeper, more intimate, if that were possible. That was probably only her wanting it to mean more than it did because of the feelings she was developing for him.
She didn’t want those feelings. He was arrogant, self-involved, and his goals didn’t remotely match hers. Still, she loved his family, his sense of humor, and his drive. She loved the way he put dishes in her dishwasher, like he’d done last night. And the way he set up her new television set. Most of all, she loved the way he held her, the way his lips caressed hers, the way he told her she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met.
She shivered and set her coffee on her desk. She didn’t have any more time to waste on Liam Archer.
Pulling her laptop from her bag, she planned to work her butt off this weekend to win this case for the Archers. And to drive Liam from her mind.