AUBREY BLINKED AT her computer screen. Her eyes were tired. But she’d worked straight through lunch on this brief and was nearing the end—time for an afternoon snack break, at least.
She opened her desk drawer and rummaged around for a protein bar, then remembered she’d also brought an apple. And coffee. Yes, coffee would be required in order to power through to the end. She’d come in at seven this morning, but then that’s usually how she started her workweek. She loved her job and for the most part was eager to jump back in after recharging over the weekend.
Before the coffee, however, she’d take a quick look at her e-mail, which she’d been ignoring while working on the brief. She launched the program as she took a bite of the golden delicious. Immediately a name jumped out at her.
The brief from Frank Sutherlin, the opposing attorney on the Archer land-use matter, had landed in her inbox two hours ago. Her clock for the response had officially started ticking.
She’d known it was coming, of course, but she’d half expected Sutherlin to ask for an extension. He’d certainly done enough to drag things out while they were agreeing to the record for the appeal. He’d ensured what should’ve taken a few weeks had taken months, which had delayed the Archers’ opening of their project. The event space and the restaurant were ready, just sitting empty as they waited for the zoning variance to be resolved, and the hotel would be ready in six to eight weeks. She only hoped this would all be over by then—and that it would result in a win. If it didn’t . . . She couldn’t think about that. Not only would all of their hard work be for nothing, Alex’s dream of his family owning and operating a five-star destination spot would go up in flames.
No pressure.
She skimmed the brief, the apple ignored in her hand. Unease mounted as she neared the end. Sutherlin knew how to argue, but then that’s why he was one of the best in the state and commanded his five-hundred-dollar-an-hour fee.
Aubrey sat back in her chair and nibbled at the apple. She’d started her brief weeks ago but had waited to finish until she saw what Sutherlin put together. Now she had three weeks to file her response, and presumably the oral argument would happen a couple of weeks after that.
Her stomach in turmoil, she tossed what was left of the golden delicious into the trash. She needed a little pep talk.
Standing, she left her office. The building was small, a converted Victorian house with just four attorneys, including Aubrey and her uncle, who was the Tallinger in Tallinger and Associates. Uncle Dave, her father’s younger brother, had given her a job the second she’d started law school. She’d interned here in the summers and started as a full-time associate immediately after graduating. His faith in and commitment to her were the constants in her life. She had no siblings, and her cousins—all on her mother’s side—lived in California. Her parents also lived in California, in Carmel, where Aubrey had grown up. Right now her family consisted of Uncle Dave and Aunt Cyndi, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.
She stopped in the kitchen at the back of the building and grabbed a cup of coffee before heading upstairs to Uncle Dave’s office. He had the largest space, taking up the bay windows that looked out onto the street below. Just a block off Ribbon Ridge’s main thoroughfare, they were close enough to walk to all the shops and businesses the town had to offer, including the Archers’ flagship pub, The Arch and Vine. It was also only six blocks from Aubrey’s house, resulting in a super easy commute on foot.
Uncle Dave’s door was ajar, which meant he was working but interruptible. Aubrey tapped her knuckles against the wood before gently pushing it open. “Uncle Dave?”
He looked up from his computer screens—he had three—and turned his head to smile at her. “Come in.” He took his glasses off and set them on the desk as he pivoted his chair to face her. “What’s up?”
She sat in one of the chairs situated in front of the desk. Behind him, the wide windows framed a gorgeous spring day. The blossoms were nearly gone from the trees, whose green leaves were in various states of unfurling as they welcomed the warmer weather.
“Sutherlin’s brief came in. I just forwarded it to you.”
He glanced at his computer. “Yeah? What’s in it?”
“Everything we expected, given his objections to the record.”
Dave pursed his lips, then sighed as he sat back in his chair. “We’ve discussed how to argue it. Are you unsure?”
“Not about what to do.” She struggled to find the right words. She was fighting the urge to hide her insecurity, something her parents had enforced. Be sharp, be confident, be ruthless was her father’s motto. A successful entrepreneur, he peddled medical equipment. Rather, he had until he’d sold the company two years ago. He’d made a mint, and now he and Mom were professional amateur golfers and wine tasters. They came to the Ribbon Ridge area every July for the International Pinot Noir Celebration in nearby McMinnville. They golfed, they drank wine, they occasionally spent time with Aubrey. Last year she’d “accidentally” scheduled a trip out of town at the exact same time. Maybe she’d do the same this year, too.
But she wasn’t talking to her critical parents, she was talking to Uncle Dave. She forced the tension from her shoulders. “I’m just having a moment of self-doubt. Sutherlin is a land-use rock star.”
Dave sat forward and speared her with a compassionate, fatherly stare. “You are, too. Don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean.” He chuckled. “I know you worry that you’re young, but you graduated third in your class for a reason. You could’ve taken a lot of different offers or clerked for a judge, but you chose to settle here at my rinky-dink firm in Ribbon Ridge. That doesn’t make you a lesser lawyer. It makes you happy. Don’t ever lose sight of what’s truly important. I know that’s hard, what with my brother’s philosophy.” He sighed. “Sometimes I wonder how we sprang from the same loins. But then, your grandparents wondered that, too.”
Aubrey felt a pang of sadness—she still missed her grandparents, who’d died within a few months of each other two years ago. But that emotion was replaced with love and appreciation. Uncle Dave knew exactly how to cut right to the heart of what was bothering her. In this case, he reminded her that her father’s expectations and demands didn’t breed happiness. Following your heart did.
Her parents had been bitterly disappointed when she’d decided to move to Ribbon Ridge to practice law at Uncle Dave’s firm. Dad had gone so far as to say he shouldn’t have been surprised, since she didn’t seem to want a serious career. Otherwise, she would’ve gone to Stanford Law instead of Lewis and Clark. Nitpicks like that had been the cornerstone of her life, along with harsh and often unfair punishments, like refusing to pick her up after every drama club meeting when she’d secretly joined that instead of the debate team during her freshman year in high school. They’d tried to control every aspect of her life. When she’d moved to Stanford for her undergrad, she’d finally pursued her own path. Despite that, it was sometimes hard to shake the self-doubt their habitual criticism had fostered.
Uncle Dave’s unflinching support and encouragement had done a lot to minimize the effects of her parents’ manipulation, and she loved him for it. But now wasn’t the time to get sappy, so she focused on the humor in what he’d said. “Your firm is not rinky-dink.”
He laughed more heartily. “It is, and that’s just the way I like it. You’re happy here, right?”
“Absolutely.” She loved Ribbon Ridge. Carmel had the same sort of small-town feel, so she’d felt instantly at home. She missed the ocean a bit, but it wasn’t all that far from Ribbon Ridge. She was saving up to buy a condo on the coast and planned to spend at least one weekend a month enjoying the peace of being near the sea. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Good, because when I retire in ten or so years, all of this will be yours.”
It sounded daunting, but she knew a lot changed in a decade. By then she’d be thirty-eight, probably married, and hopefully with children. That was the one thing she saw in her future—motherhood. She longed to be the kind of mother she’d so desperately wanted: kind, loving, nurturing, someone who read to her and let her play softball instead of making her take piano lessons. She told herself she could be happy without children—her aunt and uncle were. They’d married eight years ago and had deemed themselves too old to start a family. But they also had each other. Right now, Aubrey didn’t have anyone.
“Do you want any help with the response?” Uncle Dave asked, bringing the conversation back to why she’d come to his office in the first place.
“Not yet, but maybe.” She sipped her coffee. “Thanks. I appreciate your pep talks.”
“Really? I always worry they’re corny or completely off base, since I have zero parental experience.”
“That’s not true. You’ve been more of a father to me the last decade than Dad.”
He winced. “I know, and I’m sorry. He’s an ass,” he muttered.
Aubrey grinned. “I couldn’t agree more. Are you going to copy what I did last year and plan a trip for when they’re in town?”
Uncle Dave’s amber eyes twinkled. “Cyndi’s been thinking the same thing. How about we do something together? Maybe a trip to southern Oregon. We could take a rafting trip and hit the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland.”
Aubrey loved the Shakespeare Festival, and she hadn’t been rafting in years. “Sounds great. Tell Aunt Cyndi I’m in.”
“We should probably schedule it so that we can at least have dinner with your folks,” he said, turning back toward his computer and reaching for his glasses.
Aubrey rolled her eyes and stood. “Fine, be the voice of responsibility.” She flashed him a smile. “Thanks, Uncle Dave.”
She left his office, closing the door to its previously ajar position. Her mind went to Liam and his extreme sports and the fact that she’d told his mother she’d try to talk to him about them.
She could ask him for southern Oregon rafting recommendations as a way to start the conversation. They could do that, right? Have a conversation as friends?
As friends.
Ha. Had they ever really been friends? Sure, they’d laughed and had a good time together, but they hadn’t been friends. Not like she’d been with Alex. He was the reason she knew why Liam jumped out of airplanes and rafted class V rapids, not because Liam had shared it with her.
She ought to tell Emily what she knew, but she couldn’t. Alex had confided in her, and even though he was gone, she couldn’t break his trust. Furthermore, she didn’t want to involve herself in the situation that deeply. Liam had . . . issues, and he’d been clear about not wanting to open up about them to her. She was happy to help Emily and hopefully put her mind at ease, but she wasn’t sure the latter would be possible.
On the other hand, maybe Liam was changing. His staying in Ribbon Ridge for a while and consulting with her on the zoning variance was a complete one-eighty from what he’d been saying since Alex’s death. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with the project, nor would he consider coming home. What had happened to change his mind?
Aubrey shouldn’t care. If she was smart, she’d keep their interactions entirely professional—and she would. Along with asking him about his extreme sports.
Damn, what had she gotten herself into?
She went back to her desk and opened her protein bar. Before jumping back into her brief, she glanced at her phone and saw a text from Stuart: Dinner tonight?
Her mind flashed to Liam, and she gritted her teeth. He wasn’t going to ruin a perfectly nice guy for her. Stuart was funny and smart and a pretty good candidate for that ten-year plan she’d been thinking about earlier.
She texted him back: Sure. Just tell me when and where.
As he texted the details, she blew out a breath and told herself she deserved a guy like Stuart, not a thrill-seeking playboy who maybe had a death wish. Her chest tightened. Did he?
That wasn’t her problem. Liam wasn’t her problem. The sooner she exorcised him from her system, the better.
ZOOMING THROUGH THE sky, head down, arms plastered to his sides, adrenaline pumping through him, Liam was on top of the world. Well, almost. He’d jumped out of the plane at thirteen thousand feet and was currently free-falling toward the earth. Did it get any better than this?
He hadn’t jumped since last fall. He’d been busy with winter sports and then he’d broken his wrist and dislocated his shoulder in February. The shoulder still hurt now and again, but the hairline fracture in his wrist had healed very well.
Jumping after a long hiatus was almost like the first time. The surge of adrenaline as he stood at the edge of the plane, the whoosh of air as he launched himself into the sky, the noise rushing in his ears as he fell at 140 miles per hour, and the absolute blissful serenity that came over him just before he pulled the chute.
In fact, he was nearing the point where he’d need to do just that. As a certified skydiver, he could free-fall longer and faster than most, and he always pushed the limit. He checked his altitude, and when he hit 750 feet, he reached behind to the bottom of his pack and pulled out the drogue. He looked up and saw the pilot chute inflate. Slowly, the canopy released, and his speed gradually declined, taking him from super fast to gently drifting. He grabbed the toggles to steer toward his landing. He was home free.
Today, he could see all the way to Ribbon Ridge—a good twenty miles away—and the sight of his hometown made him feel . . . good. He’d skydived over McMinnville dozens of times, but this was the first time since Alex had died. Of all the places Liam had jumped, this had been Alex’s favorite location. Which was why Liam had avoided it.
He pushed down the rising lump in his throat. He hadn’t videotaped a jump—or anything else—since then. His GoPro sat unused at his high-rise condo in Denver. What was the point of recording anything? He’d only done it for Alex. He never watched the videos back, preferring to live in the moment, which Alex could never do.
It was odd to think that he owed his love of extreme sports to Alex. It had all started with a skydive during college. Alex had asked Liam if he’d jump out of an airplane and videotape it so that Alex could experience it “with” him. Liam had immediately agreed. He and Alex had always shared a bond—they were identical twins. Except they could never be completely the same. Liam had been born whole and healthy, while Alex had suffered the brunt of being the smallest and sickliest of six. Someone had to get the short end of the stick. And that had been Alex. The brother who looked exactly like Liam but who was a constant reminder of how Fate had chosen one of them over the other.
Liam closed his eyes briefly and floated for a moment. Up here he could forget that pain. Up here he could drift and just be. Down there he’d have to step back into reality.
He opened his eyes and saw the drop zone. He’d be there in just a moment. In years past, he’d feel a rush of excitement to download the video and send it to Alex. But not anymore.
The landing was easy, like stepping off a subway onto the platform. He longed for that rush of excitement he used to feel afterward, that inexplicable high that lasted for days.
But over the last fourteen months, the euphoria that came from his extreme hobbies had dwindled and become almost nonexistent. It was time to push the limits again. Time to find something new.
After repacking his chute, stowing his gear, and changing his clothes, Liam went in search of his friend Rylan Forbes. Rylan owned the skydiving outfit as well as a flight school, and one of his instructors had flown Liam up today. Three years Liam’s senior, Rylan had taken Liam on his first jump seven years ago.
Liam walked into the hangar and found Rylan in his office.
Tall and broad-shouldered with dark wavy hair that he typically wore a bit on the long side, Rylan stood and greeted him with a wide smile. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite asshole.”
Liam grinned in return. “And my favorite prick.” They embraced briefly.
“Dude, it’s been a while.” His brow gathered. “A long while. Where’ve you been?”
“Around. I dislocated my shoulder a few months ago. Heli-skiing.”
Rylan’s eyes widened briefly. “I hadn’t heard. Be careful, man.” He gestured for Liam to sit on a beat-up leather couch against the wall. Rylan folded his large frame back into his squeaky desk chair and turned it away from the desk to face the couch.
Liam dropped onto the couch and leaned back, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. “You know me.”
“Why do you think I said to be careful?” Rylan asked wryly. “And keep in better touch. You suck at that. We used to hang when you were in town, at least a handful of times a year. Or have you been staying away?” He didn’t say since Alex died, but the unspoken implication hung between them, as Rylan knew all about their extreme-sports situation.
Liam shrugged. Though Rylan was maybe his closest friend, there was still a wall Liam preferred to keep erected between himself and pretty much everyone else. “Somewhat. I’ve been here a bit, just busy.”
He thought back to his visits over the past year—Derek’s wedding, his annual trip at the end of summer to run Hood to Coast with the Archer team and to see the Dave Matthews Band, Thanksgiving, the holidays, and a quick weekend visit in February after the heli-skiing accident. Hooking up with Aubrey had been the highlight of each trip until New Year’s, when she’d told him she didn’t want to see him anymore. If she’d been any other woman, he would’ve moved on, but seeing her at Evan’s wedding had reminded him that she wasn’t like any other woman. And he wasn’t sure why.
Maybe because she hadn’t asked him to make a commitment, which is what practically every other woman had done. Instead, she’d been the one to drop him.
“Still hanging with Whitney Parker? She just finished a flying lesson with Dirk.” Dirk was another of Rylan’s instructors. Liam thought he had six or seven guys—both flight and skydiving instructors—working for him now.
Instinctively, Liam sat up and prepared to flee, in case she was stalking him. “God no. Too clingy.” And now a bona fide enemy of the family. “In fact, I should probably get out of here before she finds me. Real quick, you still BASE jumping?”
Rylan nodded slowly. “Why, you finally ready to give it a go?”
“Definitely. I have enough experience.”
“More than,” Rylan agreed. “As it happens, I’m taking some guys to an FJC in Idaho in May. You want in?”
First jump course, or FJC, was BASE jump training. Liam had looked into several FJCs, including the one at Perrine Bridge in Idaho. “I do.” The spike of adrenaline Liam had missed following his jump jolted through him. “E-mail me the details.”
“You got it.” Rylan leaned forward and clapped him on the knee. “Now we have a party!” His smile faded into a grimace as his gaze trailed to his office door. “You’re screwed. Parker’s coming this way. Sorry, dude.”
Bracing himself, Liam stood and left the office. He had to pass her to get to his bike. Maybe he could just wave in passing. Who was he kidding? She was barreling toward him like he was bait on a hook.
“Liam!” she called. “How fun to see you here. Jumping today?”
“Earlier, yeah. Rylan says you’re taking flying lessons.” He inwardly winced. In trying to be pleasant, he’d inadvertently invited conversation. Sometimes the lasting effect of his mother’s lessons on how to be polite and gentlemanly was a pain in the ass.
She smiled warmly and moved closer. “I am. I thought you’d find that impressive. I was always disappointed that you never took me flying.” She didn’t visibly pout, but he heard it in her voice.
Was she doing this to try to woo him back? “Please tell me you aren’t learning to fly planes to impress me, because that would be stupid, Whitney.”
She laughed that high-pitched giggle that had maybe once been cute but now grated his nerves. “Of course not, silly. I’m a thrill seeker, you know that. It’s one of the things we had in common, remember?”
He remembered. He also knew that he kept his sports life and his love life completely separate. Extreme sports were a constant he relied upon, whereas his love life was more of an extracurricular activity. Wow, put like that, he sounded really fucked up.
He ignored her question. “I need to get back to Ribbon Ridge.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
Great.
She turned and fell into step beside him as he strode from the hangar. “So what’s on tap next? I heard you dislocated your shoulder heli-skiing. Bummer. I wondered if you’d maybe try BASE jumping.”
He flashed her a glance but said nothing.
“Maybe you’re not ready, especially since you just recovered.”
“I just jumped out of an airplane.” He didn’t bother suppressing his sarcasm.
She laughed, and his nerves frayed. “True. But then you’re Iron Man, aren’t you? Right down to the playboy mentality and the rich-boy arrogance.” Her gaze flicked to his chest. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve got a battery-operated heart, if you have one at all.”
Ouch. She had his number.
Except he hadn’t been much of a playboy since Alex died. Or since he’d started hooking up with Aubrey, depending on how you looked at it. And for the first time, Liam was looking at it. Why hadn’t he gone back to his revolving arm candy? Every six months or so he moved on to someone new. Someone who wasn’t looking for forever, just a great, mutually satisfying time. Once in a while he wound up with someone like Whitney, but he’d been pretty careful to date women who understood his rules up front.
“Listen, Whitney, I know you’re still interested in me, but I told you in the beginning that I wasn’t a long-term guy. Then, when we parted ways, I made it clear that our fling was done. End of story.”
She frowned. “That means we can’t even be friends?” Something dawned in her eyes, something that turned her frown into a half-smile, something that gave him another uneasy feeling. “You have no women friends.”
Sure he did. He thought of Tori and Sara, but they were his sisters. He could argue they were friends, but it wasn’t the same, was it? Damn, he really didn’t have any women friends. Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to invite Whitney Parker to be the first. In fact, he was through trying to be polite. “Your dad is gunning for my family. He’s trying to destroy my brother’s legacy. You and I are not going to be friends.” He quickened his pace toward his bike.
She caught up to him as he picked his helmet up. “Hey, that’s not fair. That’s my dad, not me.”
He cocked his head to the side and stared at her. “You can’t be serious. Anyway, even if it wasn’t for that clusterfuck, I’m not interested in you romantically or as a friend.”
She pursed her plump, probably collagen-enhanced lips. “Too bad. If you were, I’d talk to my dad and get him to stop his attack.”
Her use of the word attack told him all he needed to know. The Parkers were on an offensive, and Liam didn’t believe for one minute that she was blameless. “You know, my family thinks this is some jilted boyfriend revenge plot hatched by your dad, but I’m beginning to think you and he are both going after the people who dumped you. Pathetic.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I wonder what your family would think if they knew you used to date me.”
Date? “I wouldn’t characterize it that way. Whenever I came to town, we got drunk and screwed. Try to at least be honest about that.”
Her jaw hardened. “Whatever. I still think your family’s reaction would be interesting.”
Interesting was not the word he would use. They’d be pissed, not that Liam could’ve known that Whitney and her dad were crazies when he’d taken up with her. “What makes you think they don’t know?”
“Because you’re secretive, and you keep your women separate from your family. I’m not stupid, Liam.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight with you. If you don’t want to date, fine. I’d be game for the drinking and sex, too. Anytime. And remember, I’d be happy to talk to my dad.” She raked him with a lustful stare. “Think about it on your ride home.” She turned and walked across the parking lot.
Gritting his teeth, Liam fastened his helmet and climbed onto his bike. All he had to do was sleep with Whitney Parker, and this entire zoning mess could potentially go away. He started up his bike and rode out of the lot onto the highway.
Maybe he should consider it. One night wouldn’t do any harm, and it wasn’t like he was seeing someone. Hell, he hadn’t even had sex since . . . shit November? With Aubrey.
No, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bone Whitney. Furthermore, he didn’t have to. Aubrey was going to kick that high-powered attorney’s ass. Even as he thought that, a voice in the back of his head said that Aubrey was relatively green compared to the Parkers’ bulldog.
Shit, they’d better win. He couldn’t imagine Alex’s dream not coming to fruition. No, he wouldn’t let that happen.