I glanced up at the dash of his car. It was old school, but he’d upgraded the stereo enough that there was a clock. We didn’t have much more than a few seconds. So much time had gone by. I bit my tongue, but luckily, he was already on his way back to the car.
He put the seat back. “How much room do I have?”
“Keep going.” When he got to my knees, I held a hand up. “There.”
He swore under his breath as he slid behind the wheel. “My knees are under my damn chin.”
“It will help you drive slow.”
He snorted and fixed the rearview mirror. “Precious cargo.”
For a second, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking about the cake.
Chapter 4
Ripley
Drivingwith a hard on and a dash of panic was a new experience.
I’d been living in some self-inflicted sobriety and celibacy. Shitty combo, but my partying days had been a bit too plentiful up until the last year. With all my brothers home, crazy projects for the Murdock Brothers company, and family dinners back on, it had been a trick to find some alone time.
I used to blow off steam with my guys at the shop, but I’d been wrangled into more and more projects to help my brothers which meant there was little time to socialize with people of the female persuasion.
My reaction to her was normal.
It wasn’t because of Mercy Hart.
Surely.
I blew out a breath and started the car. The Killers blasted out of the speakers. I reached to turn it down, but Mercy sang along.
We’d always enjoyed the same tunes, back in our high school days. She was a few years younger, but a small town and small school meant we were in and out of each other’s pockets for most of our formative years.
When I’d graduated, she’d been a sophomore. Far too young for me to really notice her as anything other than one of the Hart clan of troublemakers. She and her brothers were nearly as insane as mine when it came to pranks and debauchery.
Now?
Yeah, there was no denying she’d grown up in so many amazing ways.
“You good back there?”
She held up one hand with a thumbs up. “Go slow!”
I bit my tongue on that remark.
It wasn’t helping my situation, but I nodded and waited a beat as another few cars blazed by. The wedding was going to start in a little over an hour. I hit my flashers and pulled out onto Alpine Road.
We sang at the top of our lungs as we slowly inched our way down the steep incline toward the park. The valley spread out below with a few pops of fireworks in the distance from neighboring towns’ festivities. Even though it was a mild night, the night air was brisk with the top down.
It was an excruciating four miles. My eyes kept drifting to the backseat. The playlist clicked over to a U2 song and as usual, Mercy knew all the words. Her deep and abiding love of music was evident in her shop and rocker chick chic look she wore like a skin. Her piercing blue eyes caught the light of oncoming traffic and her wide, wine-red mouth made my dick take notice all over again.
When the song faded, I turned down the stereo. “Still doing okay?”
“Does white knuckling it count as okay?”
“Yes.”
“Then, I’m doing awesome.”
