Chapter 4
Ripley
Driving with a hard on and a dash of panic was a new experience.
I’d been living in some self-inflicted sobriety and celibacy. Shitty combo, but my partying days had been a bit too plentiful up until the last year. With all my brothers home, crazy projects for the Murdock Brothers company, and family dinners back on, it had been a trick to find some alone time.
I used to blow off steam with my guys at the shop, but I’d been wrangled into more and more projects to help my brothers which meant there was little time to socialize with people of the female persuasion.
My reaction to her was normal.
It wasn’t because of Mercy Hart.
Surely.
I blew out a breath and started the car. The Killers blasted out of the speakers. I reached to turn it down, but Mercy sang along.
We’d always enjoyed the same tunes, back in our high school days. She was a few years younger, but a small town and small school meant we were in and out of each other’s pockets for most of our formative years.
When I’d graduated, she’d been a sophomore. Far too young for me to really notice her as anything other than one of the Hart clan of troublemakers. She and her brothers were nearly as insane as mine when it came to pranks and debauchery.
Now?
Yeah, there was no denying she’d grown up in so many amazing ways.
“You good back there?”
She held up one hand with a thumbs up. “Go slow!”
I bit my tongue on that remark.
It wasn’t helping my situation, but I nodded and waited a beat as another few cars blazed by. The wedding was going to start in a little over an hour. I hit my flashers and pulled out onto Alpine Road.
We sang at the top of our lungs as we slowly inched our way down the steep incline toward the park. The valley spread out below with a few pops of fireworks in the distance from neighboring towns’ festivities. Even though it was a mild night, the night air was brisk with the top down.
It was an excruciating four miles. My eyes kept drifting to the backseat.
The playlist clicked over to a U2 song and as usual, Mercy knew all the words.
Her deep and abiding love of music was evident in her shop and rocker chick chic look she wore like a skin.
Her piercing blue eyes caught the light of oncoming traffic and her wide, wine-red mouth made my dick take notice all over again.
When the song faded, I turned down the stereo. “Still doing okay?”
“Does white knuckling it count as okay?”
“Yes.”
“Then, I’m doing awesome.”
I laughed. “Almost there.”
“Thank, God.” She perked up. “Is that Billie?”
“Sure is.”
“Turn it up!”
I shook my head with a chuckle and turned up “Bad Guy” from Billie Eilish. The bass heavy song pushed us along another mile and we turned heads as I rolled into the park.
My ragtop Caddy was a sight to behold, but holding a cake that was almost as tall as Mercy’s torso was one for the books. I beeped at the stretch limo and the moonroof opened and Sully peeked out. I gave him a thumbs up and passed them as I took the winding road around to the service entrance.
“How’s the cake?”
“Heavy and still somehow perfect.”
“Don’t jinx us, Hart!”
“Sorry!” The song flipped over to a Taylor Swift song that made Mercy cackle. “I didn’t take you for a Swiftie.”
“I like all music.”
She bopped her head and her wide, red mouth widened into a smile as the lyrics to “Style” matched her look. And just like the song, I couldn’t keep my damn eyes on the road. I kept glancing back at her and not because I was worried about the damn cake.
And because I was looking at her, I hit a crater of a pothole and shook the whole damn car.
She swore and the cake slid.
“Fuck. Sorry!”
“Shit, shit, shit. Stop!”
I resisted the urge to stomp on the brake and slowly came to a stop. I turned my head. “Everything okay?”
She was peering around to the front of the board. “I can’t tell.”
I put it in park and twisted around to check. “It’s damn close to the edge, but we’re good.”
“Slow, please.”
I turned the stereo down and I inched my way around to the back entrance where a fleet of catering vans were lined up. I craned my neck to find a gap. I needed to get us closer. There was no way I could carry that beast of a cake across the parking lot and not have an accident.
One of my future sister-in-law’s stepped out of a patrol car.
Chief Parker Olsen’s blond hair was pinned up into an impossible height and her long legs were showcased in a dress that reminded me of a glass of claret with matching spiky heels.
She wore her Indigo Valley Police Department jacket over the whole ensemble that was Parker down to the marrow.
She was never not on duty. She paused, then turned around and stared right at me.
“What is going on?”
“Cake emergency,” I shouted.
She picked her way over to my side of the car and peered at the cake then my passenger. “Hey, Mercy.” She glanced at me. “Rip. How’s it going?”
“Not great. My van broke down.” She craned her neck. “Think you can get us close to the venue?”
“Oh, boy.” Parker held up a finger and jogged away. Pretty impressive that she could make tracks in those damn heels.
“I can’t believe this.” Mercy’s eyes were hot and intense.
“We’ll get this done. I promise.”
“How the heck are you going to promise me that? We’re like fifty zillion yards away from the dessert table.” I opened my mouth and she pointed one finger at me. “If you tell me to calm down, you’re going to wear cake.”
“You wouldn’t.”
She slumped. “Okay, not my cake, but I’ll find a way to get you back.”
“Promises, promises.” I kicked open the door. “Hold tight.”
“As if I can do anything else,” she shouted after me.
I followed Parker and overheard her asking one of the caterers to move their van.
It didn’t seem to be going well.
“Look, lady—”
“Chief Olson.”
The exasperated voice rose. “I don’t care if you’re the Pope. I can’t move the damn van. It’s filled with food.”
“Hey,” I cut in. “Look, buddy, it’s the wedding cake.”
The guy in the stained white chef’s apron put his hands on his hips. “You think the main course isn’t as important as the cake?”
“Kinda...” I trailed off. “Look. It’s my brother’s wedding and it’s gotta be perfect.”
“Then she should have gotten here earlier.”
“Her van broke down, man. Have a heart. She’s sitting in the back of my Caddy with the cake on her freaking lap. We’re dying here.”
I spotted the first inkling of empathy and hurried on. “Look, I own Murdock Automotive, right in Indigo Valley. Free tune up of your catering vans, on me.”
He rocked back on his heels. “All five?”
I internally winced. “All five.”
“You’re not going to renege, are you? I’m from Saratoga.”
“Nope. You get them to me sometime next week and I’ll have them all running like they’re new. What do you say?”
“I say, you’re on.” He closed the side door and hopped in.
I sighed. “That’s going to cost as much as Sully’s cake.”
Parker socked me in the arm. “Probably more.”
“Gee thanks, Chief.”
She laughed. “C’mon let’s get this bad boy on the serving table.”
“Go on and get to the girls. Nora will freak out if her maid of honor isn’t getting ready with the rest of them.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I appreciate the help.”
“I didn’t do much. Good luck. See you at the end of the aisle.” She edged around the back of the van as it slowly pulled forward.
A quick shiver slid down my spine. I’d never thought much about marriage and the whole I do’s thing, but now it was everywhere in my damn family.
Shaking it off, I ran back to my car where a nervous Mercy was looking all over the parking lot.
When she spotted me, the pinched lines around her mouth eased.
My stomach did a quick twist. I’d never had a woman look at me like I was saving the day.
“Focus, Rip,” I muttered to myself and ate up the distance between us. “Parker’s got us closer.”
“Thank God.”
I squeezed behind the wheel, grunting when my knee jammed into the console.
It took what felt like a million years to jockey around the catering vans and I was never so happy that we’d had a distinct lack of snow this season.
I slowly navigated the grass, only crying internally when I bottomed out twice.
Hell. We better get this cake there in one piece for all of this trouble.