by Lori Wilde
“Relax,” he said.
“Huh?” she said, forcing herself to unclench her fist. Flying was thrilling, but she was uptight. How had he known?
“According to my critics,” he explained, “I don’t know how to relax.”
“Oh.”
“What they don’t get is that working is how I relax.”
It was peaceful, until they flew through a patch of clouds and the plane bobbled wildly without warning. Kaia gasped and grasped the leather seat with both hands.
“What’s happening! What’s happening!”
“Just a little turbulence. Nothing to worry about,” he said, watching her cling to the seat as if it could save her life.
Her cheeks reddened, and she pressed a palm to her heart. “Oh whew. I didn’t mean to flip out. Sorry.”
“Fear of flying?”
“No. Dread fear of crashing.”
“I’ve gotcha, Kaia,” he said, his voice full of strength and certainty. “I’m in charge here. I’ll keep you safe. Always.”
Somehow, she believed it. She gave a smile and teasingly said, “My hero.” Except it came out sounding more reverential than jokey.
The plane leveled out and she peered through the side window again, gazing at the white wedding chapel, reception barn, and Ridge’s house below.
It was so peaceful up here. She could see why he loved this. No cell phones. No texting. No multitasking. No interruptions. Just the sky.
“I’m going higher,” he said.
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Here we go,” he said, working the controls. By seamless increments he brought them higher into the clouds until they were engulfed by lowlying mist.
Kaia giggled, giddy with it.
“Ah.” He exhaled deeply, as if he’d entered a mythical realm.
Suddenly, she realized he was casting a spell, strange fairy-tale magic as mesmerizing as the humming she’d heard when he’d kissed her—rare, priceless treasures.
On an impulse, she matched her breathing with his, aligning their patterns. She pretended he was the thrust of the plane and she the ephemeral clouds.
“Kaia,” he whispered, and she wasn’t sure if he’d actually said something or she imagined it.
She opened her eyes, glanced over.
He was staring at her.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
Nowhere. Everywhere.
“I’m right here,” she said. “Right here with you.”
“We better get back.”
“I know,” she said, her heart reluctant. “Archer is already strung like a guitar string over this wedding. We don’t want to add to his stress.”
The clouds separated and they left them behind, streamers of a delightful dream. A glimpse of what could be. A single tear collected in the corner of her eye, and she quickly daubed it away.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Coming after me this morning. Knowing where to find me. Hanging out with me in the clouds.”
“My pleasure,” she said, because it was.
He circled the plane, and angled toward the landing strip. Up here things were quiet, simple.
She exhaled slowly. She liked being in the sky. He’d opened a door and showed her endless possibilities.
And that was the scary thing about him, wasn’t it. Showing her things far beyond her reach. Opening a window into a high-flying world she had no idea how to navigate.
Chapter 12
The white, steepled chapel bulged at the seams. People spilled out of the pews, and some even stood along the back wall. Ceiling fans rotated furiously to stir the air, but the congregation was too large, the summer day too hot, the air conditioning unit too small to compete with the desert heat.
Sweat collected along Ridge’s collar, beaded at the nape of his neck, as he waited at the front of the altar beside Archer with Casey’s ring on his pinky finger.
The minister droned on.
The afternoon sun filled the stained-glass window with beautiful splashes of orange, gold, and purple, casting everything in a misty, fuzzy glow of joy. Late-arriving wedding presents were being stored in the chapel’s overhead loft and soft rays of light caught the foil wrapping, adding shiny glitz to the homey affair.
Ridge’s gaze drifted over to where Kaia stood in the row of attendants behind Casey. The aqua bridesmaid dress fit her like a glove, and her hair was pulled back in a loose upswept hairstyle that showcased her cheekbones. Briefly, she met his eyes, offered up a slight smile, and then quickly shifted her gaze back to the bride and groom.
Thankfully, the service was brief and beautifully simple. The couple’s vows were suffused with humble reverence and had Ridge battling a sappy sentimentality seeping into the pit of his stomach.
But if there was ever a time for tender emotions it was at the wedding of his oldest childhood friend, and so Ridge tolerated the mushy stirrings and avoided looking at Kaia.
They’d shared a world-rocking kiss. But so what? It didn’t have to go anywhere. Shouldn’t go anywhere. He was leaving Cupid on Monday. He’d even considered leaving tomorrow what with the bad blood churning between him and his father.
He swung his gaze to the first row of the pew on the groom’s side, where Duke, sporting a shiner that matched his own, sat beside Vivi. A sting of guilt burned through him. He regretted having to throw that punch. Wished there could have been another way.
“Do you have the ring?” the priest asked, snapping Ridge back to the ceremony.
Because no one was going to trust three-year-old Atticus with Casey’s wedding band, the boy had brought two fake rings down the aisle on a satin pillow. Leaving Kaia in charge of the groom’s ring and Ridge in charge of Casey’s band. To have it handy, he’d stuck it on his pinky.
“Yes,” Ridge said. He tugged at his little finger, trying to slip off the ring. But it wouldn’t budge.
Father Dubanowski’s laser gaze zeroed in on Ridge.
“Gimme a sec,” Ridge said as sweat popped out on his forehead.
The priest shifted his stare to Duke and his black eye. A stern expression crossed his beefy face as if to say, Lockharts. Brawling. Drinking. Hardheaded. Pains in the ass.
Yeah, okay, maybe it was the Lockhart way.
A hush came over the room. Only the sound of the whirling blades from the ceiling fan overhead punctuated the silence. Father Dubanowski cleared his throat. Loudly.
Ridge yanked on the ring. It would not budge. His fingers must have swollen in the heat and it wasn’t coming off. He threw Archer a panicked look.
“Get the fake ring off the pillow,” Archer mumbled from the corner of his mouth but kept his eyes and smile focused on his bride.
Feeling like forty kinds of fool, Ridge cast around for the pillow. Where had Atticus left it? His throat tightened and he searched the altar, didn’t see it. It was official. He was the worst best man in the history of weddings …
And then there was Kaia, unpinning the fake ring from the pillow where it sat on the ground in front of the podium. Quickly, she straightened, handed it to Ridge, and stepped back into place as Ridge passed the ring to Archer so he could put it on Casey’s fingers.
A ripple of humor passed through the crowd.
Ridge didn’t have the stones to look Casey in the face. He kept working on the ring while the priest continued with the ceremony, twisting the band back and forth. But it felt like it was getting tighter instead of looser. Why hadn’t he just put the damn thing in his pocket like a normal person?
Archer kissed Casey and the audience applauded. The couple turned and headed out of the church, leaving the groomsmen to hook up with bridesmaids and proceed in their wake.
As Zeke took Kaia’s arm and escorted her up the aisle, the muscle at his right eye ticked.
“Don’t feel badly about the ring thing,” said Lynne, Casey’s matron of honor, when he took her arm. “If there wasn’t a glitch or two in a wedding, there woul
d be no juicy stories to tell.”
“I gotta get this ring off.”
“Soap should do the trick,” Lynne assured him.
He hoped she was right.
Once the wedding party was on the front porch, the photographer motioned them over to the side so the congregation could get out behind them.
Ridge let go of Lynne’s arm as she joined her husband, Ned, who’d been escorting Tara.
Ridge sidestepped to get out of the way and crashed into Kaia.
“Hold on, cowboy.” She laughed and put up a restraining hand. “I know I’m small, but don’t plow over me.”
The feel of her hand on his elbow unwound him. He glanced down, found himself falling into the vortex of her dark eyes. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Could only stare at her as if she held the meaning of life. Wedding guests flowed around them, smiling and chatting. Simultaneously, as if they’d planned it out, they both pressed their backs up against the outside wall of the church to give people room to move past.
“Thanks for saving my bacon with the ring,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled so brightly it hurt his eyes.
“You look …” He gulped. “Stunning.”
She pressed her lips together and glanced away. Was he saying too much in front of people? Probably. But he couldn’t seem to help himself.
“Congratulations,” Kaia reached out to hug Casey, who was waiting beside Archer as he slipped Father Dubanowski a white envelope. “It’s official. You’re an Alzate now. I’m so happy to call you sister.”
“Thank you, thank you! I still can’t believe I have my own real life fairy tale.” Casey sighed dreamily.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you how beautiful the bridesmaids’ dresses are,” Kaia went on, and Ridge couldn’t help feeling she was grasping for conversation with Casey to avoid talking to him. “I’ll be able to wear this one many times. You have such great fashion sense.”
Casey’s face brightened at Kaia’s compliment. “It took me ages to find the right ones. Not just the style and the fit, but a color that flattered everyone’s complexions. Thankfully, except for Ember, you Alzate girls have that amazing dark hair and olive-toned skin.”
“Your hard work was worth it,” Kaia said. “The wedding was the perfect balance of country and sophistication. It’s like something from a bridal magazine.”
“I had lots of help.” Casey gave a humble smile. “You’ve all been saints putting up with my bridezilla moods.”
“Not even for a second were you a bridezilla. When Archer said you’d agreed to be his wife, I felt like our family had won the lottery.”
“Oh, Kaia.” Casey enveloped her in a jasmine-scented hug. “You make me feel so special.”
Ridge swallowed. Yeah. Kaia had that effect on everyone. You couldn’t be around her for very long without feeling her warmth and goodwill. She sucked you right in with her guileless charm. That’s where he kept getting tripped up. Falling for her sweet, sunny disposition.
“And you, mister …” Casey turned to Ridge. “I want that ring before Archer and I leave on our honeymoon tomorrow.”
“I blew it.”
Casey waved a hand. “You were fine. It added a little humor to the ceremony. But I’m putting Kaia in charge of making sure you get that ring off.”
“You’re not leaving for your honeymoon after the reception?” Kaia asked.
“No, we’ve decided that instead of driving to El Paso tonight and staying at an airport hotel, we can hang out at the reception longer, sleep in our own beds, and drive to El Paso in the morning. Our flight isn’t until noon.”
“That means I need to find somewhere else to stay,” Ridge said.
Casey nodded to Ridge’s house across the way. “Vivi already had one of the hands move your suitcase over. Although I understand you probably have mixed feeling about that.”
Mixed hell. His feelings were unequivocal. The last thing he wanted was to sleep in that house. He would have appreciated some advance notice and the option to decide his own lodging, but he didn’t say anything. He could avoid that master bedroom. Sleep on the couch or floor. In the grand scheme of things, what did it matter where he slept? He’d be gone soon.
“Wedding party!” the photographer called, shooing people into the best lighting. “Over here!”
Once the wedding party was assembled and the photographer got a good look at everyone, he did a double take, mumbled under his breath, “What’s with all the black eyes? How am I supposed to create art with so many black eyes?”
“Why, didn’t anyone tell you?” Kaia asked. “This is a bushwhacker wedding.”
The whole group laughed, and in that priceless moment, Ridge absolutely adored her.
The reception barn had been constructed along with the chapel to service weddings, and animals had never occupied it. Hay bales were situated around the cement floors for authenticity. Six long wooden picnic tables, placed vertically, lined the middle of the room. A seventh, horizontal table was set up at the front for the wedding party. White linen tablecloths were topped with peach-and-aqua runners. Flickering white candles in mason jars, surrounded by garlands made of rope and baby’s breath served as centerpieces.
Kaia searched the barn for Ridge, spied him standing off to the side of the wedding party table, looking drop-dead handsome in his Texas tuxedo. He held a longneck beer bottle loosely between two fingers, his other hand clasped behind his back. It was as if he were in a protective bubble of his own making, separate from everyone else, impervious to the festivities, his face as stony as his name.
She started toward him, but then an out-of-town guest, a beautiful woman that Kaia hadn’t met, came up and started a conversation with Ridge. Jealousy smacked Kaia in the stomach and she stopped her in her tracks.
Vivi stood inside the doorway passing out toy cap guns, to use to salute the bride and groom when they left the reception in lieu of throwing rice, and drinking a chocolate martini. From the shiny look in her eyes, it wasn’t her first.
“Cap gun?” Vivi asked, extending the toy six-shooter tied with aqua-and-peach ribbon streamers that matched the wedding colors.
“Sure.” Kaia reached for the cap gun, but Vivi held on to it. Startled, Kaia stared at her. “What is it?”
“He’s going to break your heart, you know.”
Kaia frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play coy. I saw you kissing him last night.”
Kaia didn’t bother denying it. She let go of the cap gun and stepped back. She was not going to get into a tug-of-war over a toy cap gun.
“I’m not still hung up on him, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Vivi hiccuped.
“I wasn’t thinking that.” She totally was.
“I’m worried about you.”
Um-hum. Sure. “Thank you for your concern.”
“FYI, Ridge is incapable of love,” Vivi said. “His mother broke his heart and he’s never recovered. I blame her for abandoning him the way she did. He just can’t trust women.”
Kaia bit down on her tongue to keep from saying, Maybe you screwing his dad has something to do with his mistrust of women. This wasn’t the time or the place, and besides, it wasn’t her battle. She and Ridge were not a couple. They were not dating. He had kissed her. That’s all it was. The kiss meant nothing.
Except, she’d heard the Song of the Soul Mate.
C’mon. She had to stop this. Other than the fact that the humming had started the moment his lips touched hers and had stopped when he finished kissing her, she had no proof it was anything more than tinnitus.
“Consider this a friendly warning,” Vivi said. “I want the best for you.”
I call bullshit she wanted to say. Instead, Kaia forced a smile, mumbled, “Thanks,” even though it was idiotic to thank Vivi for trying to stir up trouble, and she turned away.
“Wait,” Vivi said.
Kaia rolled her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and turned back around.
“What is it?”
“You forgot your gun.”
For a second, she hesitated, not wanting to look like a fool if Vivi held on to the cap gun again. Finally, she put out her hand.
Vivi settled the toy into her palm. “Be careful.”
Kaia wasn’t sure if she meant with her heart or the cap gun. “Will do.”
“I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
Yeah, right. Kaia had three sisters, a cool granny, and an understanding mom. She couldn’t imagine any circumstance where she would turn to Vivi for advice.
Someone else came up for a cap gun, and Kaia made good her escape, heading for the wedding party table and Ridge. When his eyes found hers, his face lit up. Her heart flip-flopped. Vivi was right about one thing. The man was a heartbreaker.
They were the first ones from the wedding party at the table. “Where is everyone else?” she asked.
“Playing in the photo booth. The wedding planner went after them.”
“There’s a photo booth? I didn’t know there was going to be a photo booth. I love photo booths.”
“Yep.” His eyebrows went up on his forehead in amusement. “There’s a photo booth.”
“Wanna go in it after dinner?”
“Together?”
“Um, yes. What fun is a photo booth by yourself?”
“Maybe we could get Casey and Archer to go with us.”
“I’m sure Casey and Archer have other things on their mind than getting in the photo booth with us.”
“Ranger and Ember?” he said.
“Why, Ridge Lockhart.” She cocked her head, and sailed him a grin. “Are you afraid to be alone in a small space with me?”
“Hell yes.” He laughed.
“Because of last night?” she whispered.
His eyes turned somber. “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”
“But it did.”
“We could pretend it didn’t.”
She stared him squarely in the eyes. “Could we?”
“I can if you can.”
“I can’t.”
“Me either,” he admitted.
Wow. They stared at each other, still suffering the aftershocks.
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“About?”
