Ridge

by Scott, S. L.

  “I know. I’m sorry for waking you up. Hopefully Rivers is still sleeping. We’ll go to bed now.”

  “I was going to say that’s a long damn time, little sis.” She takes a wine glass from the cabinet and sits down across from me. “Fill her up.”

  Darcy tops off the glass, and asks, “What’s it like to get off with a rock star?”

  “Darcy,” I snap, shaking my head to cut it out.

  Stella spews a mouthful of wine all over the table, then snort-laughs while wiping her chin. “Oh, my! I did not see that coming.”

  I reply, “No one ever does when it comes to Darcy.”

  Our laughter dies down, and we both turn to Darce, who is waiting for an answer. I crack up again while my sister says, “The best sex ever.” When her eyes close, it’s clear by her expression she’s remembering all the amazing things. “They know how to play your body and make it sing just like their guitar.”

  Swallowing the memory of Dave and me, I find my breathing deepening. Stella is absolutely right. They know how to play your body. God, does he ever. It makes me feel weak to miss him like I do, like I have. The month has been hard, painful in my heart, messing with my mind. Even though I wasn’t attempting to move us forward when he called, his final words still stung. “. . . find what you need. I’m not that for you. I’ll do the same. And maybe we’ll both find that happiness that seems to find others so easily.” He was my happiness before I left, which was why I felt so conflicted seeing him again when I got back. But now . . . even though he asked me to come back to him, he’s done. He’s gone.

  Stella says, “Ten months. That’s January, Mead. That road trip was in January.” Under my loud shushing, she pieces it all together. “Ridge was ten months ago.”

  Darcy’s eyes whip to mine. “Ridge? You had sex with Ridge?”

  Rivers comes around the corner in low-hanging sleep pants and all his hard work on display—abs, arms, shoulders. Star tattoo with his crows. A collective sigh makes us laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” That makes us laugh again, even louder this time. His eyes home in on Stella. “Hey baby, come back to bed.”

  She sets her glass down in a hurry, and asks, “Did you miss me?”

  “Yes.” Nodding toward their bedroom, he says, “Let me show you how much.”

  I say, “I thought you were saving yourself for the wedding night?”

  Rubbing her hand over his ab muscles, she’s basically purring. “Impossible. Good night.”

  “Good night,” Darcy and I say in unison as she disappears around the corner. Darcy whispers, “Lucky bitch.”

  “I heard that,” Stella calls from the stairs. “Be jealous, ladies.”

  “We are,” Darcy calls back.

  After another drunken fit of giggles, I slump, the hour catching up with me. “I’m wiped. I think it’s time for bed.”

  “But you leave . . .” I’m about to dash, but Darcy says, “You have some explaining to do, Miss Fellowes.”

  17

  Meadow

  The gossip column calls her a “mysterious woman.” Whoever she is, I already dislike her. Is that fair? No, but it’s not like we’re going to be friends or anything. How does a friendship like that begin anyway? “Oh hello, I heard you slept with Dave?” Holding my hand to my chest, I imagine her tone to be more on the whiny side, “Ridge? Yes. I did him.” And now she’s the recipient of his phone calls. Of his friendship. Of . . . his time.

  Sticking the tip of my finger in my mouth, I mock gag before I realize I’m being a bitch.

  Waiting on the plane, I put my headphones on and an eye mask to block out the bright sunrays of day. I’m also avoiding. Darcy and Stella are just nice enough not to call me out on it.

  When I saw that article online two weeks ago, I was flat-out jealous. I hate being jealous. I have no right to be. I had Dave, and then I lost him. Sometimes . . . all the time I think about the sacrifice I made to give myself some sort of false security. My parents’ words still manage to taint even the purest things in my life.

  “Never marry a man for love, sweetie. When the love runs out, it will leave you dried up and alone.” A thirteen-year-old doesn’t know how to process that kind of information. I had no way to work through whether it was good information or her opinion, but that’s what she gave me regarding love and life.

  I suck in a harsh breath, and I lift my eye mask to my head. Lifting my head from the side of the plane where I was leaning, I lower my headphones around my neck and look around. Darcy says, “You missed the fun.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Resting her elbow on the armrest between us, she whispers, “Well, it was really me wiping the drool from the side of my mouth and then trying to pull myself up off the floor, but I think my first meeting with The Crow Brothers went well.”

  The name triggers my body to tense, and I sit up to get a look around the private plane. Dave is by the window a few rows away from me. I duck back down since he seems to be asleep and doesn’t see me.

  “Don’t worry,” she says, “he’s been avoiding . . . I mean, sleeping like you the whole trip.”

  “I’m not avoiding. I’m preparing.”

  “Hopefully you’re preparing your va-jay so he can revive it.” Her hands go in the air. “Like a phoenix rising from the ash—”

  “Man, what did my vagina ever do to you? Such a hard time.” I laugh a little.

  “It needs a hard time. A good old-fashioned fucking.”

  “I don’t remember you being this crude. I must have blocked it out,” I tease.

  “You have just forgotten.” She ticks off her fingers one by one. “Men. Cocktails. Sex. Shopping. Complaining about work. Those are my five main topics of conversation. Not in that order, of course, as it varies day by day.”

  Adjusting my seat back, I say, “Tell me today’s order. I didn’t seem to get the memo, and as I mentioned before, I like to be prepared.” I take a drink of my bottled water, then ask, “So you met everyone?”

  “I did while you snoozed like it’s no big deal that we’re on a private jet with superstars.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And what happened? How did it go?”

  “Well, I managed to keep my cool,” she says, pushing a strand of curly hair back with the rest of her hair. It springs right back as soon as she releases it. Beautifully unruly, like her. “I don’t know what came over me. They are incredibly sexy but seeing them with their wives sort of softened me. But a certain someone did catch my eye.”

  My chest tightens. “Ridge?”

  Her mouth hangs agape while offense colors her features. “Ridge? You told me last night that you’ve had sex with him and how much you’ve missed him. You know I abide by girl code. Hos before Crow Bros.” She smiles, amused by her quip.

  The jealousy subsides, and I kick myself for even thinking she would do that to me. “I’m sorry.”

  Holding my hand between hers, she says, “No need, but something you do need to do is talk to him. You have three days to get that man back.”

  “Back? I can’t get him back. First all—”

  “Queenie, Mary, and Jane. Stop with all the first of alls, secondlys, and whatever else you do to hold yourself back from having a life. You, my friend, are a beautiful woman who is strong and independent. You don’t need a man, Meadow, but just because you don’t need one doesn’t mean you don’t want one. It’s okay to be self-reliant but still want the comfort of strong arms around you. We all need to be touched, to feel wanted, to be intimate with someone else. And this time, I’m not even referring to sex but to a closeness, a bond, even a friendship.”

  This softer side of my friend almost comes as a surprise. Where’s the girl who’s crazy, the one that kisses strangers on the street just to say she did it? Where did my crazy, anti-commitment Darcy go? I lean my head on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being the friend I need.” I grin.
r />   “Someone just woke up.”

  I feel a crick in my neck and rub it. “I know. I need to stretch my legs.”

  Releasing my hand, she bonks me on the head. “Ridge, not you, silly.”

  I sit up and peek over the seat, but just as I do, he looks at me. Shit. Leaning back, I slump into the seat and hide.

  Darcy says, “Tell me this is not how the next three days are going.”

  “I can’t tell you that exactly,” I say, shrinking a little on that last part.

  “Girl, you have to pull yourself together. He’s a hot rock star who not only, according to you, have you had ‘incredible, best of my life sex,’ with, but he clearly still wants you.”

  My mouth twists. “Um . . . is it the way he was sleeping, or the way he’s ignoring me that tipped you off?”

  “Both. I know men, and his standoffishness is a sign of his interest.”

  “Are you drunk?” I ask, peeking between the seats to see if I can spy on him. Shit. Guess I can, but he can spy on me too. His hazels are browns, narrowed into hard chocolate and missing the soulfulness I’m used to. Why do I do this to myself? He told me he was done. I need to accept that. He wants to find someone else, and there’s the mysterious woman. Ugh.

  Slumping back in my seat again, I huff. This trip is going to be very interesting, to say the least. If I’m saying the least, Darcy is ready to say the most.

  * * *

  “Oh. My. God.”

  The blue ocean.

  “I know, right?” Stella stands there with a huge smile on her face. “We have the whole property to ourselves.”

  “Property? This is a compound. A compound of awesome. I’ve never seen a place like this. Maybe in my dreams.” With tears in my eyes, I turn to my sister. “How is this our life?”

  Beachfront property.

  Rivers walks up, and I throw my arms around him. “Thank you.”

  Taken by surprise, he asks, “For what?” His arms wrap around me, and he pats my back.

  “For loving my sister and for giving us,” I say, turning around and walking a few feet forward with my arms out, “this.”

  Ten bedrooms. Two buildings. Private property.

  He laughs. “It is incredible here. All of us have come a long way. How amazing is it that we get to share it together.”

  Stella snuggles against his side. “I love you,” she whispers. His words are whispered just for her to hear followed by a kiss to the head.

  While a few others come to stand with us as we face the ocean, I notice Dave’s absence. I’ve felt it since I last saw him, but now as I look around at Tulsa and Nikki, Stella and Rivers, and Jet and Hannah, I feel more alone than ever.

  Dave works his way down the path with Tommy in tow. As they walk across the beach, my heart begins to thump, reminding me I’m alive. I take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet floral scent of paradise. Darcy swings her arm over my shoulders, and then says, “Now that is a view.”

  “You’re talking about Ridge, aren’t you?”

  “I sure am.” She swats my ass as she walks away. “Come on. Mai tais are being served on the lanai. Why do I feel so fancy saying that?”

  “You’re already the fanciest girl I know.”

  “Why thank you, darling.” She gives me a wave over her head.

  I stay a moment longer . . . admiring the view. She’s right. He’s quite a sight. When I turn to head back to the main house, everyone is already gone. Not sure how long I stared at Dave out there, but my face heats just from seeing him again.

  Paradise.

  * * *

  The party planner reads from her clipboard. “And you will walk with Ridge.”

  I look up at the sound of his name to find her, Stella, Hannah, Nikki, and Darcy staring at me. “What about Ridge?”

  Nikki’s laughter fills the air as she comes over to me. “We’re going to be walking with our husbands, so Ridge will walk you down the aisle. Or if you like to lead, you can walk him down the aisle.”

  I stand from the wicker chair. “But I’m maid of honor,” I foolishly announce as if they don’t know.

  Marisol, the party planner, steps forward. “Right. So you’ll walk down the aisle together, and then take your respective places at the altar. He will take the fourth spot down from Rivers. You will be next to your sister.”

  The planner moves on like she didn’t just sentence me to visitation with an ex. Ex is a little strong. By how much time of mine he’s consuming, it would probably be safe to call him a current.

  Stella says, “It will be okay. It’s like a five-second walk.”

  I see Hannah watching me, and though there’s no judgment on her face, I feel like I’ve offended her. She and Dave are good friends. How much has she heard about me? Or do guys not talk about relationship stuff?

  Refusing to be the cause of any discourse on my sister’s special day, I’ll do whatever I’m told to do to make things go smooth. As for Dave, who knows?

  18

  Ridge

  Three days in paradise to relax and let my mind forget my worries. Four days until Austin. Five days until Japan.

  Fuck. Just when I thought I could relax, I realize I can’t. At least not much. I’ve been sitting in this chair for an hour while the party planner goes over what each of our roles are going to be and how to fulfill them with the “zest they need.”

  Alfie makes his way down the aisle with the pillow and fake rings and then sits and waits. The kid is usually full of funny business, but it seems he takes his part in the wedding very seriously.

  I’ve been able to tune most of it out until the planner, I think her name is Marisol, calls my name. “You’ll be with Meadow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tapping the end of her pen against the clipboard in her hands, she replies, “It only makes sense to have the other gentlemen walk with their wives. Since Meadow is Stella’s maid of honor, she’ll take her rightful place next to her. When you part, I’ll need you to come stand right here.”

  I get up and take the spot where she’s pointing. Alfie says, “Funny how things work out.”

  What the hell? Is this kid inside my brain? Does he even understand what he’s saying? “What worked out funny?”

  “My mom used to tell me she wanted me to go to Hawaii and get lei’d.”

  I don’t know whether I should crack up or tell Hannah. First, I try to clear things up by asking, “Get a lei, Alfie?”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.” Alfie looks frustrated. Tell me about it, kid.

  “We can get you a lei, for you or her?”

  “For her. She always wanted to come here.” Looking up at Marisol, the drill sergeant is busy, so I sit next to him. “She’s here in spirit.”

  “She is?” He’s not crying, but he’s a little upset.

  Remembering what my mom always told me, “Even tough guys need hugs,” I bring him in for a hug. “She’s always with you in your heart, Alf.” Maybe selfishly, I needed one too. Hearing about his mom reminds me of mine. Two months since she found out she was sick. Two months of nonstop testing. Two months and we’re left with the pain of knowing we’re helpless. “Treatments won’t work . . . no real options . . . keep her comfortable.”

  “Aunt Nikki called this place heaven. Is this what heaven is like?”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  When Jet comes up the aisle, he stops, gives me a nod, and then taps Alfie. “Hey, buddy.”

  “Hi, Daddy.” When Jet bends down, Alfie moves into his arms, and Jet picks him up. Jet maneuvers him onto his back and bounces him, which makes the kid laugh. The moment for him passed, but for me, it still twists my chest.

  Marisol points her pen at them. “Positions.”

  Jet shrugs. “What? I’m in my spot.”

  Doh. He gets the don’t mess with me face. “He needs to learn his part. Set him down.”

  “Set who down? Is something on my back?” Jet playfully spins pretending not to know Alfie’s there. The gi
ggles are loud, and the bond between them tight. “Rivers? Do you see anything on back?”

  “Just that monkey.”

  “Whoa! There’s a monkey on my back?” Sweeping him down, he holds Alfie upside down to even louder laughter.

  When the drill sergeant starts tapping her foot, Jet rights the kid, and asks, “You want to go fishing with me later? Just you and me?”

  “Yes,” Alfie says, fist-pumping the air.

  “Deal. We’ll let Hannah and Violet have some girl time.”

  “Yeah, with all their pink. Blurgh.”

  “Yeah,” Jet adds, popping a bicep for Alfie who mimics. “We like to belch and pump iron, eat pizza on the couch, the color black and—”

  “Blue.”

  Trying to keep a straight face, Jet says, “And blue. And green. Yellow.”

  “Orange. Turquoise. Purple and red.”

  “Yes! We like all the colors except pink.”

  Alfie is breaking down in a fit of giggles. Jet’s a great dad. That kid is lucky to have someone who spends time with him and loves him unconditionally. It’s good to see Alfie so worry free.

  Marisol marches down the aisle right behind Tulsa, then she yells, “Ladies, please join us.”

  My chest tightens as soon as I see her. Meadow Soleil. Her name might mean the sun, but she’s always been the sunshine to my rainy-day heart. It’s hard to keep my distance and not talk to her or touch each other the way we were meant to. It’s hard not to think about her or try to convince myself she’s not the one for me. I know better. But until she does . . . I clamp my jaw, the muscles clenching. I narrow my eyes and try to harden my heart for the onslaught as Marisol pairs us up.

  Meadow’s gaze remains down, her chin tilted with it. Sadness should never be seen on her beautiful face, but there it is, breaking my heart. Marisol wraps Meadow’s arm around mine as if Meadow doesn’t have the strength. The heat of her skin against mine is intoxicating. The smell of her perfume seeking out the spaces inside me that had been shaded in darkness. Every nerve ending sparks as my body feels alive for the first time in forever.