Chapter 3
Mercy
My mouth dried as I stood beside Ripley.
Had he gotten bigger?
I’d had my head down for the last few years with the opening of Sweet Beats and I’d had little time for anything other than the occasional date. Unfortunately, most stayed in the one and done category as of late. My schedule wasn’t exactly conducive to a social life.
However, I didn’t remember Ripley being so...well, ripped.
His shoulders filled out the black dress shirt that was tucked into fitted black pants.
I had a vague memory of him in his uniform.
With my shop located on Hope Street, it meant I saw the comings and goings of the town—when I looked up from my counter anyway.
But the stained blue work overalls were a long way from this version of Rip.
Shaking off the inconvenient reaction, I ran back to my truck and unlocked the case. “How big is your backseat?”
“How fragile is the cake?”
I cursed. “This is a brand-new van for fuck’s sake,” I muttered and rolled the case out.
Ripley hurried after me. “Wait.”
“I got it.”
“I’m sure you do, but let’s not dump the cake out—”
He cut off as a trio of cars zoomed down the road and my truck shuddered. The case started rolling forward and he caught it, his arms around me as his big hands gripped the corners of the case to push it back in on the track.
My whole body froze at the wall of warmth caging me in.
“Where’s your damn coat?” His voice was so close to my ear.
“I didn’t need it in my warm truck,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Is it locked?”
“Huh?”
“The case?”
“Oh, yes. You can let go.” His arms slid away from me and I blew out a breath. “Let’s get this in the car before another car blows us off the freaking road.”
He stepped back and my heart rate stuttered back into its usual rhythm. “How many pieces is this thing in?” His voice was even gruffer than it had been a minute ago.
“Three. I have the sheet cake part for the guests and then this.” I unlocked the front door of the case and swung it open.
The six tiers were perfect save for a little crack in the bottom one.
Luckily it wasn’t a lace tier so I could just fix it with a bit of icing from my emergency kit.
The groom’s cake was on its own shelf at the top.
He whistled. “Damn, Mercy.”
“Yeah.”
He held his hand and arm to the side of the case as if measuring then ran back to the Cadillac. When his head bowed, I knew the case was too big.
I’d had this truck made to fit the case, rather than the other way around.
The problem was, I’d never been one to go small in any way.
I’d been slowly building up my talents with a few specialty orders on the side for birthdays and baby showers, but this was definitely my most ambitious job to date.
He returned to me. “You’re going to have to hold it on your lap.”
“Crap.”
“Yeah. Think we can strap down the sheet cake in my front seat?”
I nodded. “I hope so.”
“I can protect the smaller cake in the trunk since it’s in a box.”
At this point if one cake had to be sacrificed, the groom’s cake wouldn’t be missed. Shannon did an amazing job, but only one was the big show.
It took a little swearing, stacking of blankets, and inventive use of his seatbelt. Thankfully, the passenger seat went back. It took up half the back seat, but laid flat enough for us to make it work. The tray was jammed against the glovebox so it wouldn’t slide away.
“Okay, climb in.”
“You are not moving that cake without me.”
“And how do you think you’re going to climb in there holding it?”
“Same way I did to get it in my case.” I stalked back to the truck.
“Mercy, you’re going to have to trust me,” he called after me.
“I should have called one of my damn brothers,” I muttered.
Not that they would have been any better. In fact, they would have been worse. All three of them would have tried to take over and the damn cake would probably end up on the ground. I loved them dearly, but they were disasters waiting to happen.
I double checked that the case was locked into the back of the van then released the front latch again. “Please cooperate with me,” I whispered. As Ripley came up behind me, I turned my head. “Hey, can you grab the black bag in the truck. It has all my emergency supplies.”
He nodded and shouldered it with a grunt. “Got a body in here?”
I laughed. “Also has my dress and girl junk.”
“You don’t need any of that,” he said under his breath.
“Thanks. Nice to hear, but these curlers under my bandana definitely need to come out before the wedding.”
He laughed. “Curlers? I was wondering what was under there.”
“Yeah, I was hoping to get some decent photos for my website. Now I just want to live through this delivery.”
“We’ll get you there, don’t worry.” He squeezed my arm then hurried over to the car.
He stowed my gear in the trunk to make a little pen for the cake.
I tucked blankets around it and hoped we could at least stop it from sliding around.
Before I went back for the big cake, I opened the driver side door, flipping the driver side seat down for easy access.
I bent at the waist and breathed through the sudden swimming black dots.
My cake was going to go on my lap?
God.
This was going to go so wrong.
“Hey, none of that. We’re going to be fine.”
“Since when are you the voice of reason and support?”
“Since you’re the secondary star of my brother’s wedding. Nothing is going to ruin his big day.”
“Agreed.”
“Now move over.” He handed me a blanket to put over my lap.
When another two cars came blasting by and nearly knocked me back a step I sighed. “If you drop that cake, I will murder you.”
“Understood.”
“I have no backup. Truly.”
I’d spent forty hours creating the lace, not to mention the other tiers. This was legit my life’s work to date. I’d taken my own photos for my website of course but seeing it in the pavilion was going to be the new cover of my website. If it made it to the wedding intact.
He briefly touched my shoulder. “Then we’ll make it work.”
I climbed into the back seat. When I turned back around, he’d already lifted the cake out of the case. His body in stark relief from the headlights.
I squeaked and rushed toward him.
“Get in the car, Hart.”
I scrambled back into the back seat. “Just don’t—”
“Mercy.”
“Sorry.” I wanted to shut my eyes, but the anxiety in my chest wouldn’t let me look away. It was a heavy cake and his arms were shaking with the strain of keeping it away from his chest as to not smudge the delicate icing.
He stopped at the side of the car and braced as a beast of a semi roared down the hill. The massive lights blinding him.
The sheer force of the wind from the speed of the truck knocked him forward a step and I screamed.
“Fuck,” he growled under his breath.
Something shifted in my belly beyond a new trauma to add to my collection. His arms shook as he course corrected and shifted to keep the cake from sliding.
I rose up as if to help.
“Stay put,” he barked.
My butt landed on the leather of the seat.
I wasn’t sure how to help him and had to sit there helplessly as he inched his way over to the Cadillac—and me.
He lifted it a few inches to clear the body of the convertible and the sheer strength in his arms made my mouth dry. It was on a sturdy base which also added to the weight of the cake, but it was the only thing that was going to get us to the pavilion without incident.
“Ready?”
I nodded. All words had dried up like the saliva in my mouth.
The scent of icing and something darker slid over me as he leaned in to place the board on my lap. Cloves and late nights with fresh sheets. When I looked away from the cake, his dark green eyes met mine. “This thing is going to crush you.”
“Worth it to get it to Sully and Nora.”
He nodded. “Ready?”
I nodded.
The heat of his arm hit me first as he turned his body to get it inside. “Sorry,” he mumbled as his arm tucked between my boobs.
“All good. Most action I’ve gotten in a while.”
He huffed out a laugh. “That’s a crime.”
“Working for yourself is a bitch sometimes.”
“Tell me about it.”
When his hand glided down my lower belly, our eyes collided. His jaw muscles flexed. “Okay, I gotta pull my hand out. Might get a little too—”
“Just do it.”
“Got it.”
He set the front of the board down first then slowly eased the back, closest to me, down. “Can you widen your legs?” His voice was little more than a rumble in the semi-dark of the backseat.
I did as his wide hand slid down between my legs to settle the board onto my thighs. I sucked in, but there was no room for anything other than a full press of his arm against my whole damn body. The backs of his fingers glided over the front of my work pants as he pulled up and away.
I blew out a breath on a groan as the full weight of the cake finally registered as he backed away. My whole system hummed from the stress and his touch.
He spun around and bent at the waist, his hands on his knees.
“Ripley?”
“I can’t believe that worked.” He paced away from me, shaking out his arms.
I laughed. “Me neither. You okay?”
“Yeah. I just need a second.”
I glanced up at the dash of his car. It was old school, but he’d upgraded the stereo enough that there was a clock. We didn’t have much more than a few seconds. So much time had gone by. I bit my tongue, but luckily, he was already on his way back to the car.
He put the seat back. “How much room do I have?”
“Keep going.” When he got to my knees, I held a hand up. “There.”
He swore under his breath as he slid behind the wheel. “My knees are under my damn chin.”
“It will help you drive slow.”
He snorted and fixed the rearview mirror. “Precious cargo.”
For a second, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking about the cake.