Ridge

by Scott, S. L.

  Fuck it.

  I cover her hand with mine, and when she looks up into my eyes, I struggle to be mean, to look at her like I don’t care. I do. I fucking care about her. “Hello, sunshine.”

  The sun rises in her eyes, and that fire ignites. “Hi,” she replies with a carefree smile. I know she carries so many worries inside her, but it seems that maybe I lift her spirits just as she lifts mine.

  “And go!” Marisol directs us.

  Walking arm in arm down the short aisle, we don’t say anything, but so much is felt—my heart pounding, my blood rushing, adrenaline spiking just from having her near me again. She’s a high I don’t want to lose, and the fix is exhilarating.

  We reach Rivers, and her arm slips out from mine, but I catch her hand, causing her to look back. “I wasn’t ready to let go.”

  “Dav—”

  Marisol breaks our hands apart, and says, “We’ve got to keep things moving please.” She spins Meadow by the shoulders away from me and moves her into place. Snapping her fingers at me, she points at the far other side. “Down there please. Thank you for understanding.”

  I go where I’m told to be, stop, and look up. Hannah, Jet, Nikki, and Tulsa are standing at the other side of the outdoor covered space with smirks on their faces. Looking a little more to the right, Stella stands with a heart-on-her-sleeve smile—supportive and kind—happy for me or her sister or both. Just happy.

  Reaching over, I give Rivers a low five, which he slaps right back. The other couples make their way down the aisle, and when everyone is in place, Rivers looks at us and then at the thirteen empty chairs in front of us. Darcy, Meadow’s friend, is sitting with a wide cat ate the canary grin in the fourteenth. I have no idea where Laird, Tommy, and Shane wandered off to. As soon as Stella joins him, he asks, “What are we doing?”

  “What do you mean?” Stella asks, her hands held in his.

  “This. Why are we doing all this?”

  “The wedding?”

  “I’m trying to help you get married,” Marisol snaps as her pen hits the clipboard. “We’re almost done with the rehearsal.”

  He shakes his head, ignoring the planner. “The guest list is so small, Stel. What do you say we just let everyone attend and enjoy it instead?”

  She looks back at her bridesmaids with concern and then back at him. “They bought dresses.”

  Touching her shoulder, Meadow says, “We can still wear them. We want whatever makes you two happy.”

  Rivers adds, “We almost have more people in the wedding than attending. What do you guys say?”

  Alfie fist-pumps again. Stella asks him, “You don’t want to be our ring bearer?”

  “Do I have to wear the suit?”

  She laughs. “No.”

  “Then tell me the time and place and I’ll be there.”

  Nikki steps forward, and says, “I think it’s romantic that you want it to be just the two of you.”

  Stella’s gaze goes to Hannah, who says, “I agree. It’s only about you and Rivers.”

  When her sister turns to her, Meadow hugs her. “We’re right here for you either way. Do what makes your heart happy.”

  “Okay.” She turns back and waves her arm. “Screw the formalities. Everyone is relieved of their wedding duties.” Pointing at Alfie, she winks. “Except for you. Will you still be a part of the wedding?”

  “I do.”

  She taps his nose. “Little charmer.”

  Rivers lowers his voice, and says to her, “It’s only about being with you. That’s all I want.”

  “Me too. Our family will all be here. That’s what matters.” She turns to Marisol and says, “Change of plan.”

  As they walk back down the aisle, Marisol fusses about food and other things. Stella nods, reassuring her it will all be okay. I stand idly by not sure what to do. As everyone disperses, Darcy not so subtly nods toward me for Meadow then gets up and scoots out a side path.

  With the two of us standing in our same spots, she asks, “Are you doing all right?”

  “Fine.” Tentative. “You?”

  Hesitant. “Not so good.”

  My pulse quickens wanting to know how I can help her. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Want to get a Mai Tai?”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I’ve not heard that one before.”

  “I try to keep things fresh.” She shrugs with a smile on her face, her eyes as bright green as the leaves that surround us and as full of life.

  I break the invisible barrier between us when I cross it. “I—”

  A text buzzes my phone buried in my pocket. I dig it out and read it. Fuck. When I look back up, I see the openness and warmth disappear. Fuck. I feel the same. I want her sunshine . . . Holding my phone up, I say, “I need to make a call.”

  “Don’t let me keep you.” She’s backing away, her hands up. Her eyes glassy.

  “I’m sorry. It’s import—”

  “No. No apologies are necessary. Don’t even think twice about me, Ridge.” She turns to round a corner, and she’s gone. The last thing she said echoing through my head.

  Ridge.

  19

  Meadow

  “Men are the worst,” I mumble, stomping down toward the beach. Between two curved palm trees, a hammock swings back and forth in the wind, tempting me. This is what I need. A nap. After the late night and early flight, surely relaxing in a hammock will wash certain things—certain people—from my brain.

  Spreading the thick, cream-colored knotted rope apart, I sit on the hammock carefully and then lie back. Ridge has made himself very clear—I need to make a call. It’s important. She’s important—is all I hear. “Wonder what her name is?”

  “Lisa.”

  I sit up too fast, messing with my balance, and spin to a fall. Caught midway, Ridge . . . I can’t call him that just because I’m mad. I know him too well for that. Dave says, “Careful or you’ll fall.”

  That’s sort of the problem. I fell for him when I should have listened to my own advice about dating and rock stars. “Too late.”

  Squatting down next to me like I’m the fresh catch of the day, he holds me still while I’m tangled up. “Since I have your undivided attention, I want to tell you something.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything.”

  “I know you don’t, but I’m going to make you listen this time.”

  “Let me out.” I push against the ropes that hold me captive like a burrito. “This isn’t funny.”

  “No, it’s not funny. It’s serious, and something that scares the shit out of you. But guess what? It scares me too, but at least I have the balls to step into the arena.”

  “Well, I don’t have balls,” I say indignant. “And this isn’t Gladiator or a concert. This is you forcing me to listen to some story that you’ll spin to cover that you’re seeing someone else but treating me like I’ve done something wrong.”

  His jaw tightens, and his hazels turn an angry shade of brown. Standing up, he says, “That’s what you think of me?”

  “Then go ahead and free your guilt. Lay the lies on me. I’m ready, Ridge.” I’m not ready at all. I want to run away from this situation before he breaks my heart all over again . . . if I could get out of this fucking hammock.

  “Ridge? Is that we’re doing?” He walks away. “Fuck this.” Shit. Why can’t I even be a friend to this man? Because he’s let you go, Mead. But like a sucker for punishment, I try . . . try to reach out as the friend I promised him I would be if he needed. Even if it slices my heart in the process.

  “How was your important phone call?”

  “Depressing.” Oh great. So his girlfriend is ticked at him.

  And once again, my sarcasm rears her head. “Did your girlfriend break up with you?” I shout.

  “Something like that. Fuck if you care.” He rounds the path and disappears around the foliage.

  I slam my fists against the ropes and flail back, which sends me spinning. The hammock releas
es me, and I fall to the grassy ground with a hard thud. On my hands and knees, I take a deep breath before pushing up and dusting off my knees. I need to go back to my room to cry for a few minutes about the loss of the expectations of what I wanted this trip to be. Yes, I hid from him on the plane. Yes, I didn’t deal with being close to him again as well as I would have liked. But it’s not because I hate him. I never could. I wasn’t honest with him or Darcy.

  I did want things to work out.

  Like Dave a little while ago, I wasn’t ready to let go either. But I need to. For him. I deserve to suffer the consequences of having a foolish heart like my dad warned me.

  When I reach my room, I unpack my bag and pull out my laptop before firing it up. Typing in “mysterious woman” and Ridge Carson, the original article comes up in the search along with a few others. All the photos I can find are of the same night and none of the others have details besides what I’ve read.

  Was it a one-time thing? Or is he dating someone? If he is in a relationship, he chose not to bring her this weekend. What does that say about how serious it is? Frustration has taken me hostage. I hate that I feel so out of sorts, so out of control of my emotions. No one can get me riled up emotionally and sexually like Dave Carson.

  Will I ever get over this man?

  * * *

  A banging on my door startles me. Darcy calls from the other side, “Come on, Meadow, dinner’s started.”

  “I’m coming.” I check my appearance once more before rolling my hands down over my hips, the bright yellow dress clinging to every curve. Slipping on my heels, I hop on one foot toward the door and then the other until they’re both on.

  Darcy’s jaw drops open. “Now that is a dress. The hanger did not do it justice, but you sure do. If I don’t find a guy, you’re my first option.”

  I roll my eyes. “Do you have sex on your brain at all times?”

  “Yes,” she says with a laugh. Shutting the door, she leans against it and then looks to make sure the coast is clear. “I wasn’t entirely truthful with you earlier. It’s been eating me alive.”

  I don’t know why I brace myself, my hands tightening on my clutch, but I do. “About?”

  “I do like someone. Quite a lot actually.”

  “Ridge?”

  Her forehead crinkles. “Ridge? He’s hot A-F, but he’s so obviously yours, honey. Girl code, remember?”

  Loudly releasing the breath I was holding, I drop my head in shame. “I know. I’m sorry. Who is it that has you looking at life on the brighter side?” I try to shake this bad mood and be happy for my friend.

  She whispers, “Carrig. Damn him and that handsome face. I’m a sucker for it.”

  “You like Carrig? Like really like him?”

  “I do. Am I horrible?”

  “Horrible? No. Not at all. He is very handsome and has a good heart. I think he may be exactly what you need.”

  “Someone steady.”

  “Someone steady, yes. But also, responsible and caring. I actually think he’d make a wonderful boyfriend.”

  “But not for you?”

  “Girl code, remember?” I wink.

  “Because the whole office knew he had a crush on you.”

  “Must not have been much of a crush if he’s been dating you.”

  That makes her smile. “No. I guess not. So you approve?”

  “You don’t need my approval, but you have it. Just make sure he leaves work at the office, so he can tend to you properly.” I wink.

  “I’ll provide a good distraction.”

  Giggling, I say, “I bet.”

  Looking me over, she says, “So Ridge it is then.”

  “I don’t know why his name even came out of my mouth.”

  When she leans down her eyes connect with mine. “I do, and it’s time that you get that situation sorted.”

  Leaning back against the smooth wood of the door, I say, “I keep screwing things up. I doubt he’ll even talk to me at this point.” I used to see happiness in his eyes, especially when we were together. Now all I see is anger and regret. I hate it.

  She takes my hand and starts pulling me down the hall to the stairs. “He hasn’t seen you in this dress yet.”

  * * *

  Our seats can’t be farther apart. I’m actually surprised Stella would put everyone between Dave and me like this. Fifteen seats and he’s sitting at the farthest corner opposite of me. The wedding coordinator, Marisol, has the coveted seat next to him.

  The worst part is that he won’t even look at me. We’ve had our salads, and absolutely no eye contact has been made. The main course sits in front of me barely touched. I feel ill, and it’s not from the food.

  In the meantime, Dave’s not talking much, but this wedding planner lady is getting on my last nerve. I can hear her obnoxious laughter all the way down here.

  By dessert, I’ve lost the rest of my appetite, only picking over the fish dish earlier. The party continues afterward with a bar and music playing under the large palapa dining area. The table is cleared, and bar tables are added.

  Rivers is slow dancing with Stella to Frank Sinatra, and I get my red wine topped off . . . for the third time. Darcy dances over to me, waggling her fingers to come dance with her. I’m pissy and stubborn. “No. You dance. Have fun.”

  Laird orders a beer and leans against the portable bar, watching everyone drink and have fun. “Is Darcy dating anyone?”

  I snort. Any other time, I’d say she was free. She’d be thrilled to know he’s interested in her. Nikki’s brother is the epitome of a Southern California surfer with his sun-lightened hair and golden tan. It doesn’t hurt that he plays the guitar, and their band, Faris Wheel, is rising in fame and popularity as the opening band for The Crow Brothers’ tour. He’s everything she dreams of, so I’m almost tempted to tell him she’s single. But then I remember the softness in her eyes, her heart shining through, when she confessed her real feelings for Carrig. “She is seeing someone.”

  “Too bad. She’s hot.” She’s so much more than just good looks. Men tend to overlook her huge heart to admire her great body.

  I swirl my wine around while seeing the lipstick marks on the glass. It’s time for a touch up. I pull out my favorite killer shade of red and reapply using the side of the stainless-steel toaster on the bar. Catching Laird watching me and because I’m just tipsy enough to ask, I say, “We’ve met a few times, but you’ve never hit on me.”

  Darcy and I are total opposites in coloring and body type. She’s the life of the party, and I’m starting to believe I’m more a homebody. I love the outdoors, and she loves the department stores. We just accept each other for who we are and adore one another. So if he’s attracted to her, I myself—blonder, shorter, a little curvier at the hips—am probably not his physical type.

  That’s not the response he gives. He shrugs, and says, “Because you’re Ridge’s girl.” I stare at him a good few seconds before he looks at me. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. You said everything right.”

  He nods and sips his beer. Marisol’s laughter attacks me from across the dance floor, and we both follow the sound. Dave is smiling, not the kind I get, but more the one he gives the world as Ridge. Marisol tilts her head to the side and touches his chest. Flirting, firing me up inside.

  Laird says, “It’s too bad what’s going on with his mother. I feel for the dude.”

  My heart clenches. “What’s going with his mother?”

  Seemingly surprised that I don’t know, he hesitates, but then says, “She’s not doing well. Hasn’t been for a few months, I think. He doesn’t talk about her much, but I met Lisa last summer on tour when she visited us in San Antonio on tour.”

  My breath bottoms out, and a hard swallow follows. “Lisa?”

  “Yeah, Lisa Carson, his mother.”

  “How was your important phone call?”

  “Depressing.”

  “Did your girlfriend break up with you?”

&n
bsp; “Something like that.” Shit. Shit. Shit.

  * * *

  My heart hurts as my gaze darts to him again. This time, I catch him watching me, making me wonder how many other times he has without me knowing.

  Setting my glass on the bar, I start across the dance floor.

  “About time.” Darcy starts clapping, and says, “Get it, girl.”

  His eyes latch on mine as he angles my way. When I look to his right, Marisol’s eyes sharpen on me, and she steps closer to him. Yeah, that’s not going to work for me.

  This is the first time I’m getting a good look at him. Holy wow! I’ve seen him in everything from ripped jeans to gym shorts but seeing him rocking a suit makes me lose my cool. I’m on him, marking this man as mine. Whether he is or not tomorrow, he will be tonight.

  Just as he opens his mouth, I plant mine against it and kiss him like I’ve wanted to for so long. With passion and bad intentions. His arms come around my lower back, bringing me in, but now he kisses with unadulterated ecstasy.

  Breathless and jelly in his hands, I look up into his hazels that spark with desire. “What took you so long?”

  “I took a wrong turn just outside Arizona.” I kiss him again, leaving the remains of my lipstick all over his mouth. Not because I have to claim him or mark him as mine, but because he was mine all along. Just like I’m his. This time when I pull back, I say, “I do care, and I’ve missed you.”

  His body hardens against mine, and he cups my cheek. “I’m glad you found your way back.”

  20

  Ridge

  Setting her free, she begins to tug at my pants. She places a kiss on my chest as her fingers work the button and zipper. I help her out by getting naked the rest of the way while she enjoys the show.

  When we’re both exposed, our hearts on the line, she comes closer with a plea to her tone. “Make me forget the loneliness.”

  I move my hand into her hair, bring her closer to lick along her jaw, and then kiss her chin. “You’ll never be lonely again, baby.”