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Authors: Darcy Burke

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BOOK: When Love Happens
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“You weren’t kidding,” he said.

“It used to be a midcentury Formica nightmare. There’s still
some work to do before they can start building the new kitchen.” She turned toward the way they’d come. “That hallway has to come out so the space can be enlarged. Then Kyle’s office will go over there.” She pointed to a space off the hallway that currently served as a large closet. “I’m sure it’s hard to picture. I can show you the plans if you’re truly interested.”

“I’d like that, thanks.”
He picked his way among the rubble. The room had been stripped to the studs, and while the workers cleaned as they went, it was still a construction zone. “Watch out for nails.”

“Will do. Thankfully I’m up to date on my tetanus.” He flashed her a grin that liquefied her knees. Suddenly she was back to thinking about what she’d stupidly said in the car. About not having sex with him today. Sex
with Sean had been . . . revelatory. She’d had a handful of boyfriends, but none had taken the care—no, the absolute delight—he’d taken in learning and pleasuring her body. She turned from him, bringing her hair forward in case her cheeks were as hot as her insides currently felt.

“Will you leave this window here?” He’d gone to where the sink had been. A window looked out over the expanse that
would become part of the formal garden that Mom and Maggie were plotting.

“Yes. I know it’s odd to have a window in a commercial kitchen, but Kyle wanted it. And the pastry area will be over there, so people strolling outside can look in and see delicious things happening. As opposed to a fish being gutted.”

He threw another disarming smile at her. “Brilliant. I bet this kitchen will be state-of-the-art.”

She nodded, allowing herself to move toward him now that her pang of lust had run its course. “Everything will be. The trust Alex set up had enough money to make this happen, but we’ve all contributed here and there. Well, those of us who are involved.”

He looked at her in question. “Some of your siblings aren’t?”

She hadn’t told him about that? She thought back and realized she’d stopped telling
him much of anything after Alex died. She’d completely frozen him out.
I had to
, she thought to herself defensively. That didn’t make it right, however.

Guilt snaked up her spine. She’d become more than familiar with the emotion over the past several months. But this was different. This was something she could fix—or at least try to. Whereas the guilt she felt with Alex . . . Her insides clenched.
She couldn’t fix any of it.

“Hey.” He came toward her, his forehead pleated with fine lines. “What’s the matter? It’s like a dark cloud moved right over you.”

She took a step back, afraid he might come close enough to touch. Or to smell. She’d caught his aftershave in the car. He had it custom-made in London so that it was absolutely and definitively Sean. She used to keep an item of his clothing
after they saw each other so she could smell him when they were apart.

Gah, how high school.

“I’m fine.”

He stepped closer, and with a wall behind her, she was trapped. “You don’t look like it. Tori, I have to admit I’m worried about you. You have these little lines.” He lightly touched the side of her mouth. “They weren’t there before.”

She pulled her head back as a jolt of awareness rocked
through her. “Please don’t touch me.”

“Why, because it might breach this wall you’ve put up? Why not let it?” He edged a bit closer, his mesmerizing eyes holding her in thrall.

Oh, the thought of forgetting everything for just a short while, of letting herself go, was so tempting . . . but afterward she’d be a ball of regret and self-recrimination. She backed up as far as she could. “Because
I can’t.”

He moved closer, and his scent overwhelmed her. There had to be a pheromone in that damn fragrance, as the heat spiraling through her was enough to make her grab his shirtfront and pull him against her. But she didn’t.

“Tori.” Her name lilted from his silver tongue and swept over her like a caress. “Remember that night at that little restaurant in Pasadena?”

It was burned in her memory.
She’d gone down to visit him the second weekend after New Year’s. They could barely keep their hands off each other. Two solid days of kissing, touching, and sex. Lots of sex. The restaurant had been tiny, with a single bathroom tucked in the back. Between the salad and the main course, they’d made good, albeit quick, use of that bathroom.

Desire curled through her core, making her entire body
feel light and desperate for his touch. He leaned closer, his lids drooping over the magnificent blue of his eyes.

Just before his lips touched hers, she put her hands on his chest and held him back. The connection burned through her hands and almost crushed her resolve. She slid away, putting as much distance as she could between them. When she was back at the threshold to the hallway, she turned
and looked at him. “I’m sorry. I tried to keep an open mind, but I can’t. A physical attraction isn’t enough. After what happened . . . I just can’t do this. Getting married was a stupid, stupid idea in the first place. We barely knew each other. I’m sure you’re a great guy.” His eyes widened, and he started to shake his head in protest, but she barreled on: “Hell, I know you’re at least a good
guy—but it’s not enough to keep this marriage going.”

He stopped shaking his head and pressed his lips together. “Tori.” His gaze traveled to somewhere behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood completely on end.

Slowly, she turned. And saw the look of shock drenched all over her sister’s face.

Son of a bitch.

Chapter Four

A
S MUCH AS
Sean had wanted her family to know about their marriage, he’d never wanted it to come out like this. He’d hoped, once upon a time, that Tori would’ve joyfully shared the news.

He could see only the barest profile of Tori’s face, but it was enough to register that her expression had gone to utter horror in the amount of time it took a celebrity breakup to trend on Twitter.

Sara wasn’t alone, either—Dylan was with her, and he looked about as uncomfortable as a person could. His gaze was fixed somewhere into the far distance, and he took a step backward.

The awkward silence stretched into a year, and Sean opened his mouth to save them all, but Sara got her words out first. “You’re married?”

“On paper,” Tori said. “We had a drunken weekend in Vegas. No biggie.”

No biggie?
Any compassion he felt for her in this situation completely evaporated. He might’ve resolved himself to the marriage being over, but her total disregard for what they’d shared, no matter how fleeting, was a low blow.

“We actually met on New Year’s,” he said. “And the Vegas trip—
five weeks later
—wasn’t entirely drunken.”

Tori threw him a glare over her shoulder. “Sara, can we talk about
this later?”

“You should talk about it now,” Sean said quietly. “Dylan will show me around.”

Dylan made eye contact then, and Sean saw the flash of relief in his gaze. “Sure. Come on.” He turned and exited into the sanctuary.

Sean moved past Tori, pausing to whisper, “You’ll be fine. And whether you want me or not, I’ll be here for you.”

He could feel her tension like a cool, stiff breeze,
but it was her problem to manage. He followed Dylan into the sanctuary and then outside.

The bright sunlight drove Sean to pull his sunglasses from his front shirt pocket. He slipped them on and glanced at Dylan. “Where are we going?”

“Let’s head down to the Ridgeview.”

He started across the parking lot toward a gravel road that was just wide enough for two cars to pass each other. Here in
the States it would be considered narrow, but back home it was just a normal country lane.

Dylan launched into an overview of the phases of construction. Sean listened, but part of his brain wondered what Tori and her sister were talking about. Was Tori throwing him under the bus? And what was this going to do to his TV show now? If she painted him as some sort of jerk, his chances at nabbing
this special would be dead in the water.

When they reached the craftsman-style house at the end of the lane, Dylan turned to face him. “I’m sorry, I have to ask. Why didn’t you tell anyone you were married?”

“I wanted to, but . . . ” He had enough respect for Tori to let her dictate the narrative—to a point. He’d see what she said and correct her if she did in fact drive over him and leave him
for dead. “It was Tori’s decision.” That wasn’t throwing
her
under the bus; it was the truth.

Dylan, who’d also donned a pair of sunglasses, took them off as he went to the front door of the house. “It’s just such a shock. Which I’m sure you realize.”

“I do.” Sara’s expression had said everything, including how hurt she’d been by Tori’s secrecy. “I was hoping she might come clean this week,
but not like that.”

Dylan unlocked the door and looked back over his shoulder at Sean as he opened it wide. “When did this happen exactly? The wedding, I mean.”

“The beginning of February.”

Dylan winced. “Ah, I think I’m beginning to understand.”

“Yeah, the timing was pretty awful.” He didn’t say it was because of Alex’s death, as it was clear that Dylan knew.

“Sara and I first hooked up
the week before Alex committed suicide. It was a one-night thing, but I sometimes wonder if it wouldn’t have been if he hadn’t died.”

Sean paused as he moved into the house. “Really? That must’ve put a damper on things.”

Dylan nodded. “Then when we hooked up again a few months later, we kept it on the down low. The family, including Sara, was dealing with so much. It just seemed like the right
thing to do.”

“I get that. I had no problem giving Tori plenty of time and space to work through things. I ended up spending six months on a project in Europe anyway, so it seemed like Fate was giving us what we needed to weather the storm.”

“So, you’re together now then?”

Sean made a sound that was half derisive laugh and half scoff. “Doubtful.” His mind went back to Tori and Sara. “Will her
family be angry?”

Dylan blew out a breath and cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know. While I’ve gotten to know some of them pretty well, this is uncharted territory. Well, maybe it isn’t. Kyle and Tori were pissed at first when they found out about me and Sara. They worried our relationship would negatively impact the renovation project if we broke up.” He cracked a smile. “Good thing we
didn’t.”

Sean gave a single nod. “Hmm.”

“I’d say Kyle and Maggie’s relationship was a bigger bombshell. The family was predisposed to dislike her because she’d been Alex’s therapist. And, well, one could argue that she ought to have recognized the depth of his depression and seen the signs that he was contemplating suicide. But she didn’t, and to be honest, it kind of fucked her up for a while.
She and Kyle are really good for each other. It might sound strange, but I think they believe Alex brought them together.”

“That’s really nice,” Sean said. Damn, but this family had certainly endured its share of drama this year. “How do you navigate all these people? Or do you come from a large family too?”

“Sort of, but I’m actually kind of a loner. Or at least I
was
. My parents were divorced
and had new families, so I was the odd kid out. Settling in with the Archers has been quite an adjustment for me.”

“I can imagine. I’m an only child. And what family I do have is on the other side of the world in England.” He had a few cousins but nothing that came close to the Archer family.

Dylan chuckled. “Total culture shock for you then. Especially with the introduction you’ve had.” He
leaned forward and clapped Sean on the shoulder. “You have my condolences.”

“Thanks, but who knows if I’ll need them. I may be on my way out.”

Dylan dropped his hand to his side. “Is that what you want?”

“I’m not sure it matters what I want.”

Dylan’s answering nod carried a hint of pity. “Come on, I’ll show you what we did here.”

It didn’t matter what he wanted? God, how that pissed him off.
Like he was absolutely unimportant. Mistake or not, this marriage was between two people, and if one of them wanted to fight for it . . . But did he? He would’ve said no two days ago, but now, after being with Tori again, he wasn’t sure. Yes, she was different, but he saw little flashes of the woman he’d fallen for. If there was any chance that woman was still in her, he’d be a fool to let her
get away.

But he couldn’t force her, and right now she demonstrated zero interest. He shook himself as he followed Dylan into the large commercial kitchen. He hadn’t come here to rekindle his marriage. He’d come here to contract a television show that he desperately needed. Schmoozing Tori had been a necessity—one that had failed miserably. It was time to move on to plan B and find another way
to make the show happen. That meant getting other Archers on board, and he’d do whatever it took.

T
ORI SWALLOWED AS
she looked at her sister. Shock mingled with hurt in Sara’s eyes. Tori heard the exterior door of the sanctuary swing shut and knew they were alone.

“Well, this explains a lot,” Sara said.

Tori hadn’t expected that reaction. “It does?”

“Your odd behavior, particularly how you
were at Derek and Chloe’s wedding. It’s like you can’t stand being around the rest of us because we’re couples.”

Yikes.
Had she been that transparent? “It’s not that. I just . . . ” She didn’t know how to explain how she felt, because she wasn’t sure. Yeah, she supposed it had been hard to be around everyone, them being in love and all, but it was more than that. It was the sense of happiness
after Alex. She wasn’t sure she could indulge that emotion. Not yet. And she didn’t want to broach that with Sara. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I think you’re sorry I found out,” Sara said softly. “Why did you keep it a secret?”

Tori crossed her arms over her chest. “Why did you keep Dylan a secret?”

Sara’s brows pitched together, and ire joined the emotion in her gaze. “Really? You’re going
to try to deflect? You know why I kept my relationship with Dylan a secret at first. But I also wasn’t
married
to him.”

Frustration and helplessness crested over Tori. “See? This is why I didn’t tell any of you. I knew you’d all think it was a stupid mistake.”

Sara held up her hand, which revealed how she’d pulled her sleeve down so she could worry the edges as she sought sensory input. “Wait
a second. I never said I thought you made a mistake. I asked why you kept it a secret. Maybe you could start at the beginning. How did you meet?”

The pull to talk to her sister, to share, drew the words from Tori’s mouth almost involuntarily. “It was New Year’s, at the hotel grand opening in Kuala Lumpur. We fell in lust with each other.” That much was true.
So
true.

Sara’s expression softened.
“I can understand that.”

Tori allowed a half-smile. “We saw each other for a few weeks after that—I went to LA a couple of times, and then we met up in Vegas. The wedding was a lark. We thought it would be a fun story to tell down the road.” Her heart started to beat faster as she permitted herself to think about things she’d shoved away for months. “To our grandchildren or something,” she muttered.

Sara’s eyes rounded briefly. “So you went to Vegas intending to get married?”

“No. I mean, maybe. I don’t know.” She brushed her hair behind her ear. “It was a great weekend.” The words came out in a whisper, as if she were afraid to say them out loud. And she supposed she was. It had all ended so badly . . .

“Tori, what happened?” Sara moved forward, stopping just in front of Tori. “You’re
freaking me out.”

Tori tightened her arms around herself, feeling suddenly chilled. Her skin tingled, and her limbs began to shake. “It was the beginning of February.”

All the color drained from Sara’s face. “Oh no . . . It wasn’t . . . ?”

Tori nodded slowly. “It was that weekend. We got married Sunday evening. And I”—the shaking worsened—“I texted Alex after the ceremony. I’d told him about
Sean.” She looked at her sister, for the first time letting someone else see the pain she’d endured for so long. “You know how Alex was. We all confided in him. He was just so easy to talk to.”

Sara threw her arms around Tori and hugged her tight. “I know. God, I know.” Her shoulders shook, and Tori knew she was crying.

Tori embraced her sister in return, expecting her own tears. She was surprised
when none came. She pulled back. “He texted me back.”

Sara sniffed, wiping her cheeks. “What did he say?”

“He told me to be happy no matter what.”

Sara smiled through her tears. “That’s so great. For that to be the last thing he said to you.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tori whispered, tears now clogging her throat. “He called me later, but I didn’t answer. I saw his missed call in the morning, after
Dad woke me up with his call.”

Eyes wide, Sara put her hand over her mouth. “He didn’t leave a voicemail?”

Tori drew in a ragged breath. “No. He called me at twelve oh eight a.m.”

Sara turned and slumped against the wall. Tears tracked down her cheeks once more. “Why didn’t you tell any of us?”

The weight Tori had carried seemed just a bit lighter, but it was still there, pressing on her chest,
stealing her breath. “I couldn’t. I can still barely think about it.” Even now, she wanted to shake it from her head and find something else to talk about. Or better yet, leave and go lose herself in a long run or a bath or . . . anything else.

Sara grabbed Tori’s hand and squeezed it, probably more for her own sensory needs than to comfort Tori, though it was for that, too. “You can’t feel guilty
about not answering.”

“How? What if he was reaching out for someone to talk him out of what he was doing?”

Sara rubbed her thumb over the back of Tori’s hand. “Then he would’ve called someone else when you didn’t answer.” She blinked. Her thumb stilled. “Do you think he did?”

“That person would have told us.”

Sara stared at her. “Like you did?”

Tori pulled her hand away and refolded her arms
over her chest. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging. I’m trying to understand. Why would you keep all of this to yourself? It has to be such a burden.” Sara pushed away from the wall and moved toward her. “Tori, you aren’t alone. We’re all struggling.”

“I know. It
is
a burden. One I didn’t want to dump on any of you.”

Sara went to hug her again but stopped herself. “Can I?”

Tori nodded, again
understanding that it was more for Sara than for herself. Hugs were nice, but they didn’t solve anything.

Sara rubbed her back for a long minute. When she drew away, she offered a watery smile. “I’m glad you told me—even if you didn’t really want to. We’ll work through this together.”

Through what? Tori’s guilt? Her regret that she’d been off having the time of her life, falling in love, getting
married, all while her brother was preparing to kill himself? How the hell did she work through that?

Tori swallowed, happy that she hadn’t actually lost her shit. She straightened away from Sara, backing up a half step. “There’s nothing to work through.”

Sara’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding? What about Sean?”

“What about Sean?” Tori knew she sounded cold and callous, but Sean wasn’t part of
this equation anymore.

“Um, the tiny fact that he’s your husband?”

“On paper. For now. But we’re getting a divorce.”

“Why? It seems like maybe he wants to make it work. Can’t you at least try?”

Tori kept a thin rein on her temper. “Sara, you have no idea what you’re talking about. We got married on a whim. We barely know each other. He lives in LA. I live in San Francisco.”

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