You're Still the One (8 page)

She wanted to know how Hayden had been after Alex's death. One of the primary reasons he'd told Bex he couldn't leave Ribbon Ridge was Alex—he hadn't wanted to leave the brother who was stuck here. The brother everyone else had abandoned. But then Alex had gone and abandoned Hayden, and that had to have been brutal. “I imagine it must've been very hard for Hayden.” Bex rushed to add, “For all of you,” lest Emily think she had a special interest in Hayden. She
did
, but she didn't need to advertise that.

“It was difficult for everyone in different ways.” She frowned. “I just wish he wasn't staying there. Everyone else has come home, and now he wants to stay away?” After a pause, Emily shifted on her stool, turning toward Bex. “I hope you won't find me overly intrusive, and of course, you don't need to answer, but can I ask why you left exactly? It seemed to happen so quickly, and Hayden wouldn't say much.”

Bex's insides twisted into tight, painful knots. She and Hayden had made a pact to not tell anyone about the baby, and for her part, she never had. Apparently Hayden had done the same. Still, that hadn't been the only reason for their breakup. “We were just immature, and we wanted different things. I wanted to see what the world had to offer away from Ribbon Ridge, and Hayden didn't want to leave.” She smiled. “I was young and silly.” And she'd thought ultimatums would net the right result. She'd been wrong.

Emily seemed to hesitate before saying, “I always wondered . . . That is, I wondered if we maybe drove you away. I imagine we're a bit intense, especially for someone with your background.”

Her insightfulness carved a wedge into Bex's heart, making her feel more vulnerable than she had in years. Maybe in forever. And she wasn't sure she wanted that—not with these people anyway. They weren't her family, and they never would be. “Like I said, I was young and silly. You all might've been a little scary, but with more maturity, I think I would've handled it better.” Crap, what the hell did that mean? She immediately wished she could take those confusing words back. She was making it sound like she'd handled it
badly
when she'd really done the only thing she'd known how to do—deal with her pain alone.

Emily seemed to brighten. “Does that mean you'd change things if you could go back? Maybe you and Hayden would still be together.”

Whoa, was she hoping they'd reconcile? Bex wouldn't have thought that was possible, hadn't even entertained the idea. But now that she was back and her feelings for him had apparently only gone dormant instead of disappearing entirely, maybe she
could
think about it. “I don't know.” She did
not
want to get this kind woman's hopes up, if she did in fact have hope, and it sounded as if she did. “It doesn't really matter since I
can't
go back. None of us can.”

“I know.” Emily stood up and took her bowl around the island to rinse it before putting it in the dishwasher. She looked over at Bex with a sad smile. “I'd always hoped you and he would find your way back together. You seemed so happy.”

They
had
been happy. Until Bex had messed everything up by wanting to get away from Ribbon Ridge with him. The need to be away from his family—to have him to herself—had felt so important. Now, in hindsight, it seemed immature and selfish. Bex's chest felt hollow. She didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.

Emily wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I will gladly settle for having you back here in our lives. I hope you know how much we all love you, Bex. You'll always be an extended part of our family.”

Emotion scalded the back of Bex's throat. She took a long drink of lemonade to ease the ache. “Thank you.” She didn't deserve that at all, but she'd accept the sentiment anyway.

“I'm off to read for a bit,” Emily said. “Good night!”

Bex watched her go then finished her dinner and put her dishes away. She set the dishwasher to R
UN
and made her way upstairs. As she touched the doorknob to her room, she heard a click down the hall and turned her head. Hayden appeared in the hallway, dressed in athletic shorts and an OSU T-shirt, his hair wet from the shower. It could've been eight years ago at his apartment in college, the first time she'd spent the night with him. He'd showered and put on one of his favorite college tees. Not the one he was wearing now, but the image was almost identical.

Except it wasn't eight years ago. He was different now. The angles of his face were harder, the length of his hair shorter, the breadth of his shoulders wider. He exuded a magnetism and a confidence she'd never sensed in him before. It was unbelievably sexy and literally made her weak in the knees.

She wondered if she could slip into her room without him noticing her. Ha, right. He was looking straight at her. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to.

H
AYDEN STOPPED SHORT
as he walked out of his room. Bex stood in the middle of the hallway wearing Bermuda-length ripstop shorts and a yellow T-shirt sporting a beer logo. Her dark hair was swept into a ponytail while her pale green eyes stared at him, unblinking.

He swallowed the compliment that sprang to his lips. What good could come of him telling her she looked amazing? “Are you just getting in?” he called down the hallway.

She smiled. “Your mother asked me the same thing.”

He walked toward her. “She did?”

“We had dinner together downstairs. Rather, I had dinner and she had ice cream.”

“Mmm, ice cream sounds pretty good. I was just going to head down for a snack.”

He wondered what they'd talked about, but decided he was better off not knowing in case it was him. There was something unsettling about being the topic of conversation between your mother and ex-girlfriend.

“You start at the brewhouse today?” he asked. He'd spent the day on a variety of errands and on starting the process of selling his house to Kyle and Maggie. They'd offered to give him back the entire contents, but he didn't want most of it back. He wanted his wine collection and a few odds and ends, but they could keep the furniture and décor. He idly wondered if he should ask Bex if she wanted any of it, but figured she'd already taken what little she'd wanted when she'd left.

She nodded in answer to his question. “Just getting organized and stuff. I can hardly wait to start brewing tomorrow. I imagine you feel the same way about getting back to France and making wine.”

He
had
been, but since last night's dinner with Cam and his brothers he'd been thinking more and more about starting a winery with them.

She put her hands behind her back and leaned against the doorframe. “What are you up to while you're home?”

“Not much, really.” It was strange to be here and not have work to do. Kyle had taken over his job as COO at Archer until last month when he'd relinquished his duties so he could focus on The Arch and Fox and his burgeoning reality show chef career. “Tomorrow I'm heading up to The Alex. Next week I'll probably spend some time at Archer Enterprises to see what's up with the transition. You heard all about that, right?”

“I think so. Your dad's splitting the brewing into a separate company now that he's going to bottle, and Derek's running that, right?”

“Yeah. Dad says he's going to semiretire.”

She tipped her head to the side and her ponytail grazed her shoulder. “You don't believe him?”

Hayden shrugged. “I think he wants to do that, but we'll see if he can. He's pretty passionate about his beer.”

She smiled, revealing the dimples he'd loved so much. “I know. But this will free him up to actually brew more, especially here at home.”

Dad had an incredible microbrewery on the ground floor, which he kept pretty busy with home brew. “Yeah, just when I think he can't possibly come up with new varieties, he does.”

“Isn't it the same way with wine? Can't you think of a thousand ways to blend it?”

He blew out a breath. “I don't know about a thousand, but a lot, yeah.”

“I'm so happy for you, that you've found your place.”

Did she mean his place was halfway around the world while everyone else, including her, called Ribbon Ridge home? That was absurd. She meant he'd found his calling. Or something like that.

“Thanks,” he said. “You, too. Funny that it's back here in Ribbon Ridge, though, right?”

“Yeah. The timing was just right, I guess. Everyone's been so welcoming.” She gave him a look that seemed to hint at gratitude, as if to thank him for being cool with it, too.

And he was cool with it. In fact, this conversation was surprisingly normal for a couple with their history. It felt good to be able to do this. It meant he really was over her.

“It's different, isn't it?” he asked. “Everyone's married or getting married. Weird.”

She laughed softly, and the sound heated dormant places inside him. Places he chose to ignore just now. “Is it weird?”

“Totally. I was the Ribbon Ridge guy with the live-in girlfriend. And now it's like Opposite Land.”

Her laugh was stronger this time. “You're right. On all counts. I can't believe Liam's engaged or that Evan's going to be a dad.” She gave her head a quick shake. “He and Alaina are the craziest pairing. If you'd told me he would end up with a famous actress, I would've bet my annual salary against it.”

Now he chuckled. “No kidding. On paper they make absolutely no sense, but in reality, they're perfect for each other.”

“I guess you just never know what will stick and what won't.” Their gazes connected for a moment, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—they were supposed to stick. That was something everyone would've bet on. Yet, they'd fallen apart.

“Sean told me he might film you brewing. Has he talked to you about that?”

“Very briefly. We're going to talk more about it after the wedding.” She looked down at the carpet and drew a shape with her big toe. “I'm not sure if I want to be on film. It's a little strange, right?”

“Yes, and I speak from experience.”

Her lips curved into a smile, and once again her outrageously cute dimples peeked out. “Of course you do. If I decide to do it, do you have any tips?”

He thought back to the show they'd done as kids—
Seven is Enough
. The show had focused on the sextuplets, but Hayden had made them the seven. That he'd come as a surprise after his parents had undergone so many fertility treatments had been a recurring theme. As if he could ever forget that he wasn't one of the core six, the ones his parents had wanted more than anything. It wasn't that they purposely made him feel left out, he just
was
. “I don't think I can tell you anything helpful, sorry. Just hit your mark.”

She looked at him in confusion.

“When they tell you where to stand for the camera shot, be sure to get it right or they'll have to shoot it again. That can make them cranky.” At least that had been his experience. “Ask Kyle about it—he was always the star of the show, and look at him now.”

She nodded. “Good idea.”

They fell silent, and Hayden figured they'd run out of safe, mundane topics. Time to go before he said something stupid like, “What did you and my mom talk about over dinner?”

She pushed away from the doorframe. “I'm going to hit the shower and then maybe watch an episode of
Sherlock
. I just started it recently, and it's very addictive. Do you watch it?”

He shook his head. “I have, but not in a long time. I haven't been watching much TV the past year. Too busy.”

“I can imagine. It must be cool to experience another culture like that. How's your French?”

He grinned at her.
“Trés bon.”

“Now, that's sexy.” She sounded playful, joking, but there was something in her gaze that rekindled a desire he preferred to suppress.

And just like that they were on the edge of the danger zone. This shouldn't be possible. She'd dumped him and never looked back. He'd finally moved on. What was this—residual attraction?

“Enjoy your show. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow.” He turned and headed for the back stairs.

Knowing she was a short walk from his bedroom gave him all sorts of inappropriate ideas. So he wasn't in a committed relationship. That didn't mean he wanted to take up with the woman who'd broken his heart.

He frowned, growing angry with himself for forgetting, even for fifteen minutes, what she'd put him through. He walked into the kitchen and poured a beer.

He exhaled and let his ire fade. It wasn't fair of him to put all the blame on her. He'd caused that damn accident, and if he hadn't, she never would've left. The baby would've kept them together. Maybe. But then Hayden wouldn't be where he was today, making wine, following his own path.

He just wished he knew where that path was leading. Fantasizing about that winery with the Westcotts had made him second-guess his desire to stay in France. He'd spent the evening researching winemaking facilities and thinking about how a year from now he could be watching his first vintage grow fat on the vine.

It was tempting as hell. Just like the woman upstairs.

B
EX
'
S FIRST BATCH
of beer for the day, an IPA, was already in the fermentation tank. Next up, she planned to make a blonde ale and add some loganberry puree.

Last night's almost-platonic conversation with Hayden had made her feel good about taking this job, especially after talking with Emily, who clearly hoped she and Hayden still had a chance. But they didn't. As soon as things had gotten the teensiest bit flirty—thanks to her inability to keep her mouth shut after he'd spoken French—he'd bailed. Who knew two little words uttered in a foreign language could be so unbelievably sexy? It wasn't like
he'd
said anything flirty. Her French was practically nonexistent, but she knew he'd just said, “very good.” As in he'd learned to speak French quite well.

Even though she'd only heard him say two words, she didn't doubt his skill for a second. One thing about Hayden, when he put himself into something, he went all in—heart and soul.

How had she turned her back on that? More important, why?

Because she'd been young and shortsighted and emotionally stunted. Hopefully she was making progress on the latter. Her conversation with Emily had shown her that she was at least more open to a closer relationship, not that she ought to pursue that with her ex's family.

Bex hefted the bag of barley to carry it to the mash tun. It was heavy and bulky, and she adjusted her hold to lift it higher. But it was too much and she dropped it, splitting the bag so that barley scattered all over the floor.

She put her hands on her hips and stared at the mess all over her gorgeous brewery floor. “Hell's bells.”

Laughter reached her ears, and she recognized it immediately. She mock-glared at him over the mash tun. “Hayden, are you laughing at me?”

He walked toward her, his expression amused. “You still say that.”

She was momentarily confused then realized what he meant.
Hell's bells.
She'd said it her whole life. She'd heard it somewhere and decided to try it out at school one day. Her kindergarten teacher hadn't been impressed, but when she'd called Bex's parents to inform them of their daughter's misconduct, they'd found it cute. From then on, she'd had permission to say pretty much anything she wanted at home. It was one of the many ways in which they'd allowed Bex to steer her own ship.

“Of course I do. It's my signature phrase.”

He chuckled and looked around at the barley littering the floor. “What happened here?”

“I'm trying a new decorative scheme. You don't like it?”

He laughed again. “No, it's great. But since you're making beer, you should add some hops.”

She couldn't keep from smiling anymore. “Good idea.”

His eyes glinted with humor as he looked at her. “You want some help cleaning this up?”

“Sure, but I don't want to interrupt whatever you're doing.”

“You're not interrupting anything. I was just helping Kyle with the wine cellar. The sommelier he hired decided to take a different job, so Kyle's scrambling.”

That must've been the reason for Kyle's yelling that morning. The door to the corridor leading to the kitchen had been open, and she'd heard him swearing. “Good thing you're here—at least for a while.” She went to the corner and took a broom from a hook then handed it to him.

He started sweeping. “Yeah, it feels good to be needed.”

Did he not feel needed? She knew he often felt like the odd man out in his crazy family. He'd opened up to her about it on several occasions, but it always seemed as if he held something back. Every time, he'd ended the conversation saying he was just being oversensitive or that it wasn't really that big of a deal. Looking back, she probably should've pressed him about it, but she'd been the last person who would've asked for more details, especially of the emotional variety.

Bex grabbed a second broom. “You kept the home fires burning for years while they were all gone. Of course they need you.”

He moved around the mash tun as he swept. “Eh, I don't know. When I left for France, they managed to make do.”

She didn't quite believe him. “Wait, Kyle took over for you as COO. He can't have just stepped into that job.”

“He had to, but yeah, I gave him a long-distance hand.”

Bex concentrated on sweeping the outliers toward Hayden's pile. “Sounds like you were needed to me.”

“I was, but he picked things up pretty quickly. I've just missed being a part of The Alex.” He paused to look at her. “But I knew moving to France would take me out of it. I can't regret that decision.” He went back to sweeping.

She wanted to say something about not having regrets and about making tough decisions, but knew it would sound like she was justifying why she'd left five years ago. Best to leave that alone. “No regrets is a good policy.”

He cast her a quick look, maybe trying to determine if she had regrets. Before coming back to Ribbon Ridge, she would've said she didn't—well, very few—but now she'd have a different answer. No, that was stupid. She couldn't regret the choices she'd made because they'd all led her to right here. And she was exactly where she wanted to be: sweeping up barley from the floor of her brewery.

“This good enough?” he asked, sweeping the last of it into a pile.

She grabbed a dustpan and knelt while he swept it into the pan. “Looks great.”