Raging Fires by Candace Camp
Chapter Seven
Jake was determined to be on time for his wedding this time around, so he got in an early workout and was showered and dressed—at least this time he didn’t have to wear a tux—and ready to go by two. Unfortunately, the wedding wasn’t until seven, which left him with five empty hours. He flipped through the tv channels and fidgeted and paced and played games on his phone. It was late in the afternoon and he’d reached the point where he was contemplating reading one of Gran’s magazines when suddenly it occurred to him that he didn’t have a ring. He was getting married and he didn’t have a ring.
“Gran, I gotta go.”
His grandmother narrowed her eyes. “Jake Riley, if you’re running away...”
“No. Have some faith, Gran. I just—I don’t have a ring.”
“Oh. Well, shoot, you can use mine.” She began to twist the band on her left hand. “If I can get it over my knuckle.”
“No. It’s okay. I can get one. I just have to run.” He glanced at his phone. Damn, it was almost rush hour. “I’ll come back in time to take you to the bar.”
“Don’t be silly.” She waved her hand. “I’ll call one of the boys.” The ‘boys,’ Jake knew, were her brothers, but at least most of them were younger than her. It’d mean another person at the ceremony, but no one would be surprised by Gran dragging someone else along with her.
Jake grabbed his keys and left the house. He was not going to be late or he’d never hear the last of it from Kelli. He could picture her glaring at him, hand on hip, which was cocked out in that way he used to think was sexy as hell if you didn’t listen to what she was saying.
He decided to take the old Jeep instead of his SUV. Kelli had always hated that car—said it was too top-heavy for someone that took corners as fast as he did—it seemed like a fitting good-bye to freedom. He zipped out and drove to the storage facility.
Thank God, all his stuff had come. Now, all he had to do was find the right box. That was easier said than done, but in the fourth box, labelled Miscellaneous, he found the wooden box that contained the weird little things he’d kept through the years: a pin from pee-wee football, tickets to the first football game Pops had taken him to, his first driver’s license, that old watch Pops had given him when he was a kid that he never wore because but couldn’t toss out, a thin blue ribbon that made him smile faintly as he ran it through his fingers. And a sparkling diamond ring.
He hesitated for a moment before he pulled out the ring and stuffed it in his pants’ pocket, then added his old wedding band, too He was going to be cutting it close, but there was still time to get to the bar.
He’d just pulled out onto the street when his cell rang. No Bluetooth in this classic, so he picked it up to answer, just like you weren’t supposed to. Did he live for danger or what?
“Jake!” It was Kelli’s voice, and she sounded frantic.
His heart jumped. “What? What’s wrong?” He could hear traffic noise in the background.
“My car died,” she said, and he relaxed a little. She was just angry, that’s all.
“Need a ride?” he asked smugly. He knew how much it burned her to have to call him for help.
“Yes.” He could practically hear her teeth grinding. “I’m at the McDonald’s on Thomas.”
“You stopped for a burger?”
“No, I did not stop for a burger.” Yeah, she was pissed. His lips twitched up at the corner. She went on, “Can you pick me up on your way to the Blue?”
“Gee, Kell… I don’t know. It’d make me late, and I have strict orders to be there on time.” She growled, and he laughed. “Yeah, hang on. I’ll be there in ten.”
He made a U-turn, still grinning, and headed the other way.
It took him a little longer than he’d said, which wasn’t his fault; he hadn’t known there was construction the way he came. His excuse was already in his mouth as he turned into the McDonald’s lot. Then he saw her, and everything left his head.
Damn, she looked hot. She wasn’t overdone, of course; that wasn’t Kelli’s style. But her skirt was just short enough to show off her legs, and the soft sleeveless top let you know what was beneath it without clinging tightly. Her heels weren’t sky high, but they had those thin straps that looked like they might snap beneath your fingers. She was… enticing. Especially if you knew what she looked like when she took off those clothes. Used to, he was the only one that did.
He frowned, his good humor leaving him, and stepped out of the car. “You’re still driving that old junker? You wouldn’t have to call me for help if you’d get a decent car.”
“You should talk,” she shot back, nodding toward his Jeep and taking off her sunglasses so she could zap him with the full force of her glare. “And I’m regretting calling you more and more by the minute.” Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes, the lashes stuck together.
Had she been crying? Surely not. Why would you be in tears because your car wouldn’t start? Whatever Kelli was, she wasn’t the kind that was always crying all over you. Breaking something was more like her.
She was holding a cardboard take-out tray with two big drinks in it. He knew what they would be—Sprite for her, Coke for him—and somehow that thought made his chest tighten. Kelli leaned into his car to set down the drinks, then turned back to her car and reached in to pull out something from the other side, giving him an excellent view of her ass, which, he noted, was just as firm and round as it had been.
Apparently, his body reacted the same as it had back then, too, which annoyed the hell out of him. Jake got back into the car, and as soon as Kelli sat down, holding the jacket she had retrieved from her back seat, he slammed the Jeep into reverse and stepped on the gas.
Which sent the two large drinks sitting on the dashboard flying through the air. Before Jake could react, they were doused with soda. Kelli let out a shriek, and he stomped on the brake, stopping the car with a jolt. “What the hell! Why did you set the cups on the dashboard?”
“I didn’t know you were going to peel out before I could even fasten my seat belt,” she yelled back. “Look at this!” The drinks had hit her worse because the tray had been sitting on her side of the dash. Only his arm was wet, but the liquid had soaked her top and drenched her face and the front of her hair as well.
“Well, if you hadn’t set them on top of the fu—”
Kelli picked up the half-empty cup in her lap and threw it in his face. Cold liquid flooded down his front, and Jake’s words ended in a string of curses.
A car honked behind them, and someone shouted, “Hey! In or out, jerkwad!”
A customer walking to his car helpfully added, “Not a parking space, dude!”
Jake broke off his swearing monologue and pulled back into the empty space. Kelli shot out of the car and began sweeping ice and puddles of Coke from her clothes like they were sparks. “Damn it! Damn it! It’s all over my jacket, too.”
“Why the hell did you throw your soda at me?” Jake jumped out, too, wiping his face and pulling his wet shirt away from his chest.
“Because it was your fault, and you’re just sitting over there, laughing.”
“I was not laughing!”
“Okay, sitting there shouting at me, and not a drop on you. Look at this!” She brandished her jacket at him like a weapon, shaking it. “It’s ruined! I can’t go to the wedding like this!”
Her top clung to her wetly, outlining every curve. It was a damn good look on her, but she was right; it wouldn’t work at a wedding. “Don’t you have anything else you can wear?”
“No, Jake. I do not have anything else to wear. I’m not in the habit of changing clothes at McDonald’s.”
“You go to the gym, don’t you?”
“Yes. Okay, I do have a sports bra and shorts in my trunk. You think I should get married in a sports bra and old saggy gym shorts?”
“It might start a trend.” He cracked a smile. Now that he’d gotten the ice cubes out of his shirt, he’d calmed down some. And Kelli in a snit looked… well, there was no other word for it. She looked cute. “You know, when you think about it, this situation really is kinda funny.”
Kelli gave him a death glare and swung around to pop open the trunk of her car. Every movement was a jerk—she was probably imagining that she was pulling out his fingernails—as she slung her damaged jacket into the trunk, then pulled out a small duffle bag and unzipped it, yanked out a piece of cloth, and slammed the lid of the trunk shut. She stalked toward him, holding up a scrap of gray fabric.
“This, Jake. This is what I have to wear. Aside from being, you know, underwear, it’s a crop-top. I am not getting married with a naked stomach and a T-back bra.”
“Okay, okay, calm down. Let me see what I’ve got.” He ambled around to the back of the jeep and dug into it. “Hey. Here. I’ve got a box of something. T-shirts. There are plenty. We can both change.”
He straightened, holding out a fluorescent green shirt with Kents do it in tents emblazoned across the front.
Kelli’s jaw dropped. “The old t-shirts from your family reunion?” Astonishment had driven the anger from her voice. “What are you doing with t-shirts from five years ago in the back of your car?”
“Shockingly, a lot of people ‘forgot’ to take theirs home after the reunion was over.” He shrugged. “I guess I just left them here. I don’t drive the jeep anymore.”
She came over to him and took the t-shirt, looking uncertain. “Really? We’re going to get married again in matching t-shirts that say Kents do it in tents?”
“You tell me.” Jake plucked the gray bra from her and held it up in one hand. “Sports bra.” He raised the t-shirt in his other hand. “Or matching t-shirts that make us look like a couple of jackasses.”
Kelli groaned and grabbed both garments from him. “Well, at least I won’t have to go bra-less beneath the jackass t-shirt.”
Okay. That was an image that would mess up his mind for the rest of the afternoon. Kelli climbed into her car to change, closing her door and turning her back to him. Like he was a stranger. That was irritating as hell.
“You don’t have to hide,” he called. “I’ve seen it all before.”
“Yeah, well, I’d prefer not to get arrested for indecent exposure outside McDonald’s. And just because you’ve seen it before doesn’t mean you’re ever going to see it again.”
“Right. Thanks for reminding me. For a minute there, I forgot we hated each other.” She didn’t reply; he wasn’t sure she’d heard him. Probably better that way.
Jake stripped off his shirt and pulled on the hideous green one. He could barely shove his head through the opening, and it was so tight he thought it might cut off his breath. He dug through the box, pulling out shirt after shirt. Apparently they were one-size-fits-all. He hadn’t been able to wear one-size-fits-all since he was fifteen. He pulled at the constricting neck, hoping to stretch it, then tugged at the hem, which barely reached the waistband of his jeans. He had visions of the shirt splitting apart like the Hulk’s in the middle of the ceremony.
After a few minutes, Kelli emerged from her car wearing the baggy tee with her skirt. “At least I didn’t have to wear the fugly gym shorts. I had the jacket on my lap so my skirt only got a few spots on it.”
She turned around and saw him in his too-tight shirt, and she burst out laughing. “You’re right. It is kinda funny.”