Page 23

MERIT

My eyes keep darting to the door, eagerly waiting on them to get here. I tilt my head, wondering if I should just open the sliding glass door so I’ll be able to see the second they walk through the living room. After what seems like an eternity, I finally see Ridge’s face. Squealing, I jump up from the patio table. It takes Ray by surprise, and he stops talking right in the middle of his story.

I lost track a long time ago. I think he and Jeff are talking about deep sea diving.

Or maybe snorkeling.

Skydiving?

Anyway, who can focus when this is about to happen.

Ridge is introducing his new girlfriend to the family. Tonight. At Anna’s birthday party.

I race over to the grill where Holt and Crutch are glazing the chicken. “He’s here! It’s happening!” Of course, their eyes are already trained on them, watching as Ridge ushers his lady across the patio to his parents.

She’s definitely not whom I had pictured for Ridge.

She’s decked out for a night on the town, and not a night by the swimming pool. I definitely don’t think her black leather mini skirt and stiletto heels are appropriate for an eight-year-old’s birthday party. Her makeup is impeccable, and her light brown hair has more strategically placed highlights and lowlights than a color wheel.

She’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but it’s definitely not the natural and effortless beauty that Raylee and Ella have. This girl has to work for hers. And she works it hard. Like a street hooker on two-for-one night.

But there’s something else.

Something about her seems really familiar. I cock my head and squint my eyes. “Wait, is that Kimber-Shay Willis.”

“Yeah.” Crutch’s disgruntled growl catches me off guard.

“You know her?” I ask.

“I investigated an auto theft at their dealership a few years ago. She’s…persistent.”

My brow furrows. “What’s that mean?”

Holt rolls his eyes. “Shit, Crutch. Don’t tell me you slept with her.”

Holy crap.

“Fortunately, no. Not for her lack of trying, though. But even back then I had enough sense not to screw someone involved in the middle of my case.” His eyes flicker between mine and Holt’s. “Don’t tell Lulu. You know how she gets.”

“You mean possessive of what’s hers,” Holt says, with a suggestive wink in my direction.

I ignore him. “Plus, it might hurt Ridge’s feelings to know that his girlfriend tried to…well, you know…” my voice trails off.

“Tried to bone one of his best friends,” Holt offers.

Not helpful.

Crutch eviscerates him with a glare before turning to me. “How do you know her?”

I can feel the heat of embarrassment scald my cheeks. I know her through Edward, of course. Kimber-Shay’s family owns a string of luxury car dealerships all over the Southeast. Their flagship store, the one they started with, is here in town. Edward bought more than one vehicle from her—a Lamborghini, a Maserati, and even a BMW for me. I hated it. It was a really small car. It felt like I was rolling out of bed every time I tried to crawl out of it. “Edward liked expensive cars.”

The good humor falls from Holt’s face, and he scowls. “Yeah, dickheads usually do,” he grumbles underneath his breath. Instinctively, he reaches for me, pulling me closer to his side. His fingertips dig into my hip—the hip that just recently returned back to a normal color. Our lovemaking session the night of Delaney’s sentencing was intense, to say the least.

Crutch lifts an eyebrow and smirks. “Yeah, and Lulu’s the possessive one, huh?”

Holt shrugs, unapologetic. “Must run in the family.”

The clack of Kimber-Shay’s heels against the concrete draws our attention. Ever the gentleman, Ridge guides her toward us with his hand on the small of her back. She reaches behind and swats it away. “You’re wrinkling my blouse,” she snaps.

What the hell?

Is she blind or just stupid?

A good ninety percent of the female population of the world would crawl across a bed of rusted nails and subsequently lick their own bleeding wounds just to have Ridge’s hand on the small of their back. He’s a damn fine specimen, if I say so myself.

And not only that, but he’s kind and funny and honorable.

A woman should never turn that away.

All of a sudden, my own words sink into my heart. I glance up at Holt. Is that what I’m doing? Every time I push him away, who am I punishing more? Him? Or me?

I’m not sure what he sees on my face, but it’s obvious he sees something. Softly smiling, he leans down and kisses my temple, giving me flashes of what our lives will be like when we’re old and gray and wrinkled.

If only I forgive him.

“Guys, this is Kimber-Shay Willis,” Ridge announces. He introduces each of us.

She flashes a brilliant white smile. “Please, call me Kimber,” she tells Holt. Her voice is like a kitten’s purr. Well, a kitten spawned by the Devil. Her eyes dart to Crutch. She pushes her expensive hair over her shoulder. The movement wafts her perfume in the air. “Crutch, it’s good to see you again.”

Ridge’s eyebrows lift. “Oh, you two know each other?”

“A few years ago, someone broke in and stole a Pur Sang Bugatti. Chip was furious.” Her smile thins into a small line. “Crutch was the detective assigned to our case.”

What the heck is a Pur Sang Bugatti?

It sounds like the name of a snake, not a car.

“Well, what happened?” Ridge asks.

“Caught the guy, of course.” Crutch punches Ridge on the shoulder. “You doubt my abilities?”

He laughs. “Nah. But she did say it was a few years ago. So, that means it was before Marcum retired. I figure you had help.”

Chuckling, Crutch swears at Ridge and takes a long drag of his beer.

She turns, focusing her attention on me. “And it’s good to see you again, Merit.”

“Wait, you two know each other too?” Ridge asks.

“Merit’s purchased from us before,” Kimber says.

“Not me,” I rush to clarify. “Edward.”

Ridge nods, knowing I prefer to talk as little as I can about him. “Gotcha.”

“How is Edward? How’s the Jaguar treating him?”

I guess that means Edward bought a Jaguar.

“Uh, well,” I fumble for diplomatic words. “I don’t really keep up with him. We divorced several years ago.”

She giggles. “Oh, I know that, silly. I just didn’t know if y’all were friends. It’s so nice when people can stay friends even after a relationship ends. Just look at Chip. My father has been divorced three times, and I’m still very close with both of my stepmothers. We do shopping weekends together.”

Why does she call her father by his first name?

“No,” Holt steps in. “They’re not friends.”

Her face falls into one of concern. Well, I think it’s concern. She might just be a good actress. “I completely understand. I still have no idea what he ever saw in Delaney Fitts. You know, he bought a Mercedes for her. I tried to talk him out of it, but he just wouldn’t listen.”

“Kimber,” Ridge warns.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

I wanna punch her. But she’s Ridge’s girlfriend. And I love Ridge. So instead, I plaster a smile on my face and nod. “It’s okay. Everything worked out just like it was supposed to. We’re all moving on.”

“I should say so!” She nods at my stomach. “How far along are you?”

“Thirty weeks.”

Her face blanks. She obviously doesn’t know what that means. “Coming up on seven months,” I add.

“That’s great. I know how excited you two must be.”

Holt opens his mouth to answer, but he’s interrupted.

A little finger pokes Kimber’s side. “Excuse me.”

She lets out a huff of surprise and jumps. Turning, she stares down at Laura.

Laura stares back. Pushing her glasses up on her nose, she eyes Kimber with suspicion. Her back straightens, and she sticks her little hand in the air. “Hello, my name is Laura Margaret Crutchfield. Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

Kimber looks at Laura’s hand like it’s covered in shit. Doing a poor invitation of a welcoming grin, she pats the top of Laura’s head. “Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.”

If looks could kill, Kimber would be dead. Slaughtered by an eight-year-old. Laura folds her arms across her chest and blows her lips into a pout. “Seriously?” She nods her head at Ridge in accusation. “Are you kidding me?” Turning on her heels, she stomps away.

Kimber, completely unfazed, tugs on Ridge’s arm. “How about a drink, babe?”

***

Anna’s finished with her presents, and we’re all sitting around eating cake, when Marcum raises his voice and points at the guys standing behind me. “I’m gonna need y’all’s help next weekend.”

It’s a collective y’all —Holt, Ridge, Cullen, Crutch, and Will.

“Help with what?” Cullen asks.

“Moving.”

“You’re moving?” You can immediately hear the worry in Crutch’s voice. Marcum is like a father to him. He would be devastated if he weren’t around.

“Calm down, son. I know you can’t survive if you don’t see this balding head of mine at least once a week,” he teases. “It’s for the kids, Brent and Stephanie.” He reaches for Nate and squeezes his shoulder. “They bought a new house. That’s why they couldn’t come tonight; they’re packing.” He rattles off the address, telling us where the house is.

“That’s just a couple of miles from us,” Raylee says. “You’re gonna be in our school district,” she tells Nate.

He pushes his half-eaten plate of cake in front of Laura. She’s already eaten her piece, but Nate always saves part of his cake for her—the parts with the most frosting. She loves frosting. “Yeah. I’ll be starting school there. We just went and talked to the front office today.”

Laura gasps in excitement, dropping her fork on the plate. “You’ll be going to the same school as me?!” She looks at him with pure joy on her face. She has frosting on her nose.

He hands her a napkin. “Wipe your nose,” he whispers, before raising his voice for the rest of us to hear. “Different school, L.G. I’m going into high school, remember.” He calls her L.G.—short for Little Girl, the nickname Crutch and Ella use.

She rolls her eyes. “How could I forget, Methuselah. You remind us all the time you’re older.” She draws her words out dramatically, making me snort. She’s got such an old soul. “I meant you’ll be on the same campus as me. I mean, the high school is right next to the middle school, which is right next to my school. It’s all one big circle.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he finally concedes.

She smiles triumphantly. After just a moment, her smile fades, and she watches Nate with discerning eyes. “Don’t worry, Nate. Going to a new school and making new friends can be scary. But I’ll be there to protect you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” She settles back in her chair and focuses on her cake.

Nate answers the only way he knows how. He checks her water glass and pushes his own in front of her when he sees that hers is empty.

“You can count us in. We’ll be there,” Will says.

“My shift ends at seven a.m. on Saturday morning,” Ridge adds. “I’ll be there.”

Holt’s hands slide around my neck from behind. His fingertips tease my collarbone. “Well, I can’t be there. I already have plans.”

What? Did he seriously just say that?

After everything Marcum has done for him? And Nate?

I scoot in my chair, straining to turn around and scold him. “Holt,” I hiss.

“And you won’t be there, either,” he says, nodding at Nate.

Nate’s forehead creases. “I won’t?”

“Nope.” He can barely talk because his smile is so big. “That’s our first football camp. And as the only freshman on Varsity, I suggest you show up and show out.”

Ray slaps the table, laughing. “You took the job back at your old school?”

He nods. “I took the job. I’m going back to coaching football. Not only that, but I pointed out the fact that they never hired an Athletic Director like they were supposed to, expecting all of us to do triple the work—teach in our classroom, coach on the field, and handle the day-to-day planning of our events. So,” he holds his arms in the air, “you’re looking at the Head Football Coach and the Athletic Director. I’ll cover the high school and middle school athletics.”

Holy crap. He did it.

Pride swells in my chest, nearly crushing my ribs.

After the frenzied chatter settles down, Ella shuffles Hardy on her lap. “How’d you make the decision to go back? I know it couldn’t have been easy. Some of those people… some of the things they said…”

Holt looks down into my eyes. His fingers curl in my hair, and he twists the strands back and forth. The movement sends a tickle down the center of my spine. “What about the things I said? No one was more hateful than me.”

Sentiment clogs my throat, making it hard to swallow. I feel like I’m suffocating. Suffocating on the truth of his words. But the crazy part is, Holt’s the only one who can breathe life back into my lungs. He’s the only one who can stop the suffocation that he’s causing , the only one who can make me whole again.

So, at what point do I forgive him?

At what point do I give in and let us be a family?

He reads my face. He sees everything. He feels everything. I know he does. Because he mimics my own reactions—right down to the painful swallow that bobs against his Adam’s apple.

Clearing his throat, he turns back to Ella. “Merit reminded me that a lot of good things happened at that school. Great things, really. Things I shouldn’t turn my back on. It gave me a purpose after my injury. And the kids? My team? Man, their support of me never wavered.”

Ridge squeezes his shoulder. “Smart move, brother. I’m proud of you.”

“You’re really gonna be my coach?” The happiness in Nate’s voice is palpable.

“Yep.”

“And you’re really putting me on Varsity? I haven’t even tried out.”

Holt laughs. “Nate, I’ve watched every game you’ve ever played. Even the ones I haven’t been to. Why do you think your grandfather carries a video camera with him?” He puts his hands on his hips and sizes Nate up. “You’re ready for this.”

“And what about you, son?” Teresa asks. “Are you ready for it?”

He winks at me. “We’re ready for anything.”