Page 13 of Raging Fires

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.”