Raging Fires by Candace Camp
Chapter Eight
They were silent on the drive to the Blue Shack. The open-air Jeep was too noisy to hear anything. And anyway, what was there to say? Kelli’s spirits, already low today, had severely dropped by the time they pulled into the bar’s front parking lot. There were only a few cars there, one of them Gran’s dinosaur Buick.
“Geez, are they still letting Gran drive around in that thing?” Jake remarked as he pulled in beside the behemoth. “She’s got to be a wreck waiting to happen.”
“They?” Kelli asked sarcastically. “Exactly who do you think is going to stop her? Pops was the only one she ever listened to. She’d still be hauling around empty kegs in the back if he hadn’t been so insistent that she stop. Don’t know who can possibly do anything about her now.” Kelli’s eyes filled with tears again and she looked away from Jake, blinking until they subsided.
“You have a point.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze. It was an innocent gesture, but the touch of Jake’s capable fingers still sent shivers through her. And her mind was now running through the other, decidedly not innocent, ways Jake had touched her. Kelli quickly pulled her hand away.
Getting out of the car, she tried to finger comb her hair into something that didn’t look like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet. She remembered now why she hated Jake’s Jeep. It was like being in a wind tunnel. On the positive side, the hair on the front third of her head was no longer in wet sticky strings. It was now in dry, sticky spikes.
The Jeep had no handy mirror in the visor, of course, so she bent to peer into the side rear-view mirrors. She tugged and swiped, but her hair was hopeless. Nor could she completely wipe off the mascara smudges beneath her eyes from her stupid tears earlier. As if dealing with Pops’ death hadn’t been bad enough on its own, she’d had to call her ex for help, knowing exactly how much he would enjoy her humiliation at having to ask him to rescue her.
Now here she was, looking like she just got off a rollercoaster, wearing a dorky t-shirt with her favorite skirt and heels. And she was late for her wedding. The only thing that could be worse was if she was having to re-marry the jerk she’d divorced four years ago. Oh, wait. She was.
Why had Pops left the bar to her with this requirement? Why had she agreed? Was owning this stupid bar really worth it?
Well, yes, it was. Because this stupid bar was her home, the place where she’d found a family, the place that had taken her in when she’d returned from Miami, licking her wounds. It was where her life was, and she couldn’t bear to think of giving it up, even if it meant marrying Jake. She’d already done that once; this time couldn’t be as bad.
She squared her shoulders and started toward the front door. Jake walked around the car and came up beside her, resting his hand lightly on her lower back like he used to do, and it felt so natural that they were almost to the door before she realized what he’d done. She glanced up at him sharply, and he seemed to become aware of it at the same time because he pulled his hand back, shifting away from her into that side-by-side-but-not-a-couple walk.
He opened the door for her, and Kelli entered the bar. She stopped so abruptly that Jake, coming in behind her, bumped into her. They stood there, frozen, staring in shock at the scene before them.
Someone had been busy draping a lot of white ribbon around the place and putting candles, flowers and white tablecloths on all the pockmarked wooden tables. A white arbor trellis stood in front of the bar. But unexpected as the decorations were, they weren’t what made Kelli’s eyes widen. It was the people. All the people.
It was supposed to be only the two of them and the justice of the peace, her bridesmaid Naomi, Jake’s best man Asa Jackson, and Gran and whatever relative or friend Gran badgered into coming with her. Those few were here, all right. But there were a whole lot more people than that.
They were divided into two distinct groups. On one side of the room Gran sat at a table with her sister Lucy and assorted cousins, aunts and uncles. Around them stood the Blue’s employees, as well as a number of the bar’s patrons, recognizable by their leathers, bandannas, and beards.
On the opposite side of the room were several very large men dressed in crisp pants and button-up shirts, and their dates in dresses and heels. Asa and Justin Kowalski were among them, and Kelli recognized Neil Moran, the Pumas quarterback. So this group must be Jake’s new teammates.
In the center, beneath the trellis, stood a small bespectacled man in a black choir robe.
Jake turned to Kelli. “What the hell?”
“I have no idea.”
“I didn’t see—where were their cars?”
She shot him a look. “Yeah, because that’s the important question.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know there was a proper etiquette when you find out your ex-wife slash new bride invited a hundred people to your ‘small, quiet’ wedding!” Jake’s voice grew louder with every word until his voice was booming out like he had a bullhorn.
“I didn’t invite them!” Kelli snapped. “And could you keep your voice down? You’re not on the field calling signals!”
“Yeah, like you’re being reaaallly quiet.”
She realized that everyone was watching them with faces that were as astonished as Kelli felt. Being dressed like crazy people and yelling at each other was probably not a good look for a couple about to get married. She straightened her shoulders and told Jake in a studiously calm voice, “Why don’t we try to at least look civilized?”
He shrugged, and they turned back to face the crowd.
“Um... hi, everyone,” Kelli said. “Sorry we’re a little late.”
Jake lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave. “Kelli had car trouble.”
Of course, he had to add that.
“All of us parked in the back lot,” Asa helpfully answered Jake’s original question, not even bothering to try to hide his grin.
Naomi, at barely 5’2”, was still able to push her way through the crowd of burly bikers with ease. She came to a halt when she saw Kelli. Her eyebrows shot up and she hurried over. “What happened to you? You look…” She stopped, apparently rendered speechless.
“Long story,” Kelli replied. “What are all these people doing here?”
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t me. I swear.” At least Naomi kept her voice low, but that only made everyone in the room lean in to hear better.
“Gran?” Jake and Kelli asked at the same time.
“Jinx,” Naomi said. At Kelli’s glare, she rushed on. “Right. Sorry. Not the time.” Naomi turned her back to their audience and whispered, “It was her.” She jerked her head toward the jock side of the room. “The one that looks like she just stepped out of one of Pops’ old movies.”
“The blonde with the bob?” Kelli studied the tall, sleek woman in a dress that screamed designer standing between a beefy guy and Neil Moran’s wife.
Naomi nodded vigorously. “She came in about an hour ago with all this stuff.” She waved her hand vaguely at the decorations. “Then she ran around putting it up—well, actually, telling these two workers where to put things. The tablecloths and flowers and candles. Even that wedding arbor thing. Do you know her?”
“Never saw her before in my life,” Kelli replied. “What is she, the Wedding Fairy?”
“That’s Pete Cherneski next to her,” Jake said. “He’s a linebacker. Kind of nuts.”
“Yeah, well, I think she is too,” Naomi told him. “I mean, she looks normal—aside from the fact that her dress probably cost more than my car—but she keeps saying weird things. I’m not sure if she’s joking or not. And while she was doing the arranging, that Pete guy was over at one of the tables, and he kept pulling the tablecloth off. I mean, with the centerpiece and everything on it, and it would all fall off, and then he’d put it back on and yank it off again.”
“Oh, yeah, he does magic stuff,” Jake explained. “The other day, he kept showing me this trick with a fake flower where he pulls the flower out of his jacket like it’s some big surprise. Only it never is because you just saw him stick it in there.”
“Good grief!” Gran bellowed—no question where Jake got his voice from—and hauled herself up out of her chair. “Are you two going to stand at the door talking the whole time?” She stalked over to Jake, took his arm in a firm grip and tugged him forward. “Let’s get this thing started.”
“Gran, come on,” Jake protested, trying to unobtrusively pull his arm from her grasp. “I can walk over there by myself.”
His tone was so much that of a ten-year-old kid that Kelli had to laugh. Which was a mistake because Gran turned her attention to Kelli. “You, too.” Letting go of Jake’s arm, she went back to pull Kelli up beside Jake. “If you don’t get going pretty soon, Aunt Lucy’s going to fall asleep. She’s always in bed by eight o’clock.”
“All right, all right,” Jake growled and grabbed Kelli’s hand. They marched up to the arbor to face the justice of the peace, who was staring at them, wide-eyed and slack jawed.
Naomi took up her bridesmaid’s spot near Kelli, and Asa quickly positioned himself on the other side of Jake. Asa was trying to stifle his laughter, his lips pressed firmly together, but his shoulders were shaking. Obviously a number of other people didn’t even make the effort. Kelli could hear snickers all around them.
“This is worse than that time you and I fell in the pond at the mayor’s fancy party,” she whispered to Jake.
“Ha!” Jake let out a little reminiscent laugh. “That was crazy. And I wasn’t even drunk.”
“And when you came up, there was a lily pad on your head.” Kelli couldn’t keep from grinning at that memory. “It looked like you were wearing a cloche!”
“A what?”
“You know, one of those flapper's hats that women wore in the nineteen-twenties,” Kelli explained.
“How would I possibly know that? Only you would think a dude would know what a clonche is.”
“Cloche. It’s not part sea-shell.”
The judge cleared his throat to get their attention, and they turned to face the man.
Jake straightened, jaw set, and said, “Okay. Let’s do this.”
The robed man leaned in and asked in a quiet voice, “Are you two sure you’re okay with this?” He glanced warily at the bikers on one side, then at the assembly of jumbo-sized men on the other. “I mean, if someone is trying to force you or… well, it’s really better, you know, for a child to have a single parent than a mother and father who don’t want to be together.”
Kelli and Jake stared at him until his meaning sank in. “I am not pregnant!” Kelli hissed. “This isn’t a shotgun wedding!”
Jake let out a snort of laughter, and Kelli turned to glare at him and Asa, who had finally lost his battle with laughter. “Would you two straighten up?” To be fair, Naomi was giggling too, but these guys were more obnoxious.
“I’m sorry, I’m trying,” Asa got out between laughs. “It’s just… oh, man.” He managed to pull his face back to normal, though his lips kept twitching. “Okay. Sorry. I’m good.”
The judge squared his shoulders and drew a breath to speak. At that moment, the door to the restroom hallway banged open, and a man’s voice said, “Geeze, it’s dark as a mine back there. Haven’t you people heard of lights?” There was a yap, followed by the man’s voice, “Shut up, Princess.”
Asa burst into guffaws again. The justice of the peace heaved a sigh. Jake said, “Oh, God, Howard brought that freakin’ dog?”
Kelli was numb to surprise by now, and she merely turned to look in the direction of the voice. Whoever the speaker was, he was too short to be seen behind the team, but there was a ripple through the group as he edged his way to the front.
“Have they showed up yet?” the disembodied voice went on. “I heard he missed the team plane once in Boston. Move your butt, Kowalski. You’re too damn big. I can’t see a thing.”
Justin Kowalski, who had covered his face with his hands in a vain attempt to muffle his laughter, moved aside, and the speaker finally emerged. He was short and middle-aged, and he was carrying a Louis Vuitton purse. A purse?
The man looked at Kelli and Jake, and his jaw dropped. “Good God, Jake. What the hell are you wearing?”
A tiny face pressed against the mesh that covered one side of the purse, and Kelli realized that the bag was actually a high fashion dog carrier. Princess, Kelli presumed. She looked like a ball of fluff with bright black eyes, and as soon as she saw Jake, she burst into a paroxysm of barking.
Asa, who had been gradually quieting down, let out a howl of laughter.
“That dog hates me,” Jake muttered.
“Good judge of character,” Kelli snarked.
Asa was now bent over, wrapping his arms around his torso. “You’re killing me, J. I got bruised ribs, you know, from that game that was supposed to be touch football.” He turned to shoot a glare at one of the other players, who shrugged back at him.
“They taped them, right?” Jake asked.
“Seriously?” Kelli asked. “You’re going to stand there and have a conversation about football in the middle of the ceremony?”
Jake shrugged. “What ceremony? We haven’t even started.”
The justice of the peace cleared his throat loudly. His face was turning an alarming shade of red, and Kelli suspected he wished he had his gavel so he could pound on something. She certainly would like to do that herself.
“Silence!” The judge finally roared, and the voices died down obediently. Asa managed to straighten nearly all the way up, though he was still hugging his ribs, and his laughs had died to shallow breaths. Princess’ owner rolled down the flap above the mesh—to hide her from view, or, more likely, to hide Jake from Princess’ view—and even the dog finally stopped barking.
“Now.” The judge looked at Kelli and Jake with deep disapproval. “I assume you two have not written your own vows.”
Jake snorted, and Kelli said, “Just make it short, and let’s get this over with.”