Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
She was going to take him fishing.
She kept her plan secret until they arrived at her grandma’s good friend’s place on the water—and it was worth it for the look on Dax’s face when he spotted Davey loading up his fishing boat for them at the end of the dock.
Dax pulled the Bronco to a stop, his mouth moving with emotion. “God! You knew how to get me, didn’t you?”
She hoped she hadn’t misread him. Putting a hand on his knee, she searched his gaze. Sherlock gave a quiet ruff of concern. “Was I wrong to bring you?”
“Hell no.” He blew out a breath. “For a sec, your friend there could have been my gramps bending over with his bad back, readying the boat. Grabbed me by the throat hard.”
Grief. Memories. Life. Yeah, she was missing her grandma and how things used to be. They’d had some fun times on the water together, catching their dinner and then making a lowcountry perloo together.
“Come on. Let’s go have some fun.”
Ariel was out of the car before Dax could come around for her, and she waved at Davey as he closed the lid to the cooler and straightened.
“Hi, y’all!” Davey drawled, hooking his thumbs in his overalls. “Fine day for a good bit of fishing. Ariel, get over here and let me meet your friend.”
When she’d decided to take Dax fishing, she’d known exactly who to call. She and Grandma had always used Davey’s boat and his fishing gear. The two had been friendly for years. When he’d answered gruffly and said he couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier, she’d grabbed some sunblock and bottled water and directed Dax to the spot.
As they walked to the dock, Ariel could feel her own sadness well up, but she knew Grandma would be happy she’d called Davey about going fishing. When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around the tall, thin man and squeezed him as tightly as he squeezed her. Last time she’d seen him had been at Grandma’s funeral, and he’d had silent tears falling down his face as they’d lowered her into the ground.
“Well, now, you’re a nice sight for these here old eyes.” He tapped her on the nose, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I like the hair. It’s spunky. Suits ya. Now introduce me to your fella.”
“Davey, this here is Dax Cross, and he’s what Grandma would call a good catch.”
They shook hands. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Dax said politely.
“Any friend of this one is prime stock with me.” He tugged playfully on the ends of her hair. “Best sense of all the Deverell women, her granny used to say. Dare I ask how the wedding planning is going?”
She winced playfully. “Not if you want to keep this smile on my face.”
He gave a laughable cringe. “No surprise I guess, but Lordy, those Deverell weddings are something else. I’m kinda glad your granny never agreed to let me walk her down the aisle. A chandelier might have come down or some holy statue might have fallen over. Yes, sirree, I’m rather glad my invitation got lost in the mail.”
She gasped. “What?”
He tipped his head up to the sky. “With your grandma gone, Tiffany had no reason to invite me, and we both know it. I wasn’t close to the Three Tornadoes. You and I were the only ones who got along, and that’s fine by me. Mighty fine.”
Though they’d been a couple, Grandma hadn’t brought Davey around the rest of the family much, saying she didn’t want to hear any of their opinions, because they surely would have them. They had them about everything, and usually they weren’t good. As her mother had recently proved in spades. “It’s their loss, Davey.”
“You’re a sweetheart.” He pinched her cheek. “Now then, the day’s passing and there are fish to catch. Ariel, I have your favorite rod for you, but I thought we’d give your fella here a couple of choices since you said he’s a seasoned fisherman.”
The three rods were standing up where Davey had secured them, and she let him and Dax get down to serious business. Choosing the perfect rod and lure wasn’t exactly her forte. She liked it simple and easy like her grandma. Sherlock jumped into the boat and gave a ruff, sniffing the air, eager to go. Ariel savored the warm breeze against her skin and the swampy smell of water in the air. The marsh grass was swaying, the sound a soft rustle that called to her soul. This place was the home she’d always dreamed of, and soon she’d be here permanently.
When Dax turned around with his rod, he let out a whoop. “How about this? One of my favorites.”
He grinned and patted Davey on the back with the kind of ease men had with each other. Then he drilled her with an amused look. “Davey here tells me you prefer the kind of ‘chuck it and fuck it’ rod that doesn’t require a lot of concentration.” He gave a tsk-tsk. “Ariel Holmes, I’m surprised at you.”
She jerked her thumb toward Davey. “Don’t pick up on his teasing. I know what he thinks of my rod choice and my approach to fishing. I like to be on the water, but I also don’t want to have to work to catch anything.”
Dax let out another big laugh, the joy of fishing clearly wrapping him in its spell. “This is going to be fun.”
“Always is with this one, and her grandmother too, God bless her soul.” Davey wiped his eyes quickly. “Now then. Dax, if you’d trust this old man, I can help you call in for a non-resident fishing license. I play poker with one of the guys in the department, and I spoke with him after Ariel rang me up earlier. He’ll handle everything over the phone. Last I knew it was pretty cheap. They just need some basic information.”
“You read my mind.” He put a hand on Davey’s shoulder. “I appreciate the help.”
“We’ll be right back,” Davey called as they headed toward the bright green house on stilts flanked by palm trees.
Ariel looked at Sherlock. “Aren’t they cute? Their heads together. Probably trading stories about their biggest catches. Oh, Sherlock, doesn’t the sun and air feel great?”
The wedding drama felt miles away, and all she wanted to do was let the sun kiss her skin. She was going to enjoy this break, most especially her time with Dax. On that note, she dug out the sunscreen. She was finishing her legs when Davey and Dax arrived.
“Well, you’re all set to go.” Davey slapped Dax on the back. “Go give ’em hell out there.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” she called, sensing Dax wouldn’t mind the company.
“Please come along, Davey,” Dax added with a boyish smile at the older man, looking years younger even with his scruff. “Those fish won’t see us coming.”
Davey gave a wheezing laugh and slapped his knee. “Sorry, kids. You two have fun. Being on the water with the one you’re sweet on is the best feeling in the world. Enjoy it. I’ll see y’all soon.”
As he strode down the dock back to his house, Ariel gazed after him wistfully. “He and Grandma had a lot of what she’d call ‘dates on the water.’ Said it sounded better than going fishing if you get my drift. You ready, Stephan?”
He extended his hand to her and helped her into the boat grandly. “After you, Elizabeth. Although we might have to lose the nicknames for a while. I don’t really see Elizabeth and Stephan fishing, do you?”
She shook her head and carefully alighted into the boat, sitting down at the front where Sherlock was standing, peering into the water. “Not really. I thought you might enjoy driving if you don’t mind me giving you some directions to our favorite fishing holes.”
He eased in with a quiet grace that was rather captivating, the flexing of his muscles raising her internal temperature. “Is there anywhere you aren’t capable? You’re good in the skies and clearly on the water. Certainly you’re good on the ground.”
Her question had him frowning, however, as he started the motor and set them off the dock after she’d untied their lines. “Rob said something like that to me this morning. About everything coming easily to me. It didn’t sit well. I’ve never thought I needed to do anything differently than be how I am. Grandpa said some people like to struggle against the current like the salmon, but he thought it wiser to go with it. Sorry, we were going to get back on the happy train.”
The sound of the running motor was as welcome as the warm air on her face, but hearing the anguish in Dax’s voice marred the pure bliss of the moment. “I’m related to people who like to struggle. I don’t. At least I think I don’t. I figure struggles can crop up anywhere, and when I’m not around one, I’m like you, I try and go with the flow. I think your grandpa was a wise man, and you were smart to listen to him.”
“Thank you for that.” He inclined his chin toward the water ahead. “Guide me out, honey, and let’s get to fishing.”
She started them off in the muddy brown waters of her favorite fishing hole, casting out in the middle section between marsh grass. Dax cast in the main waters, reeling some slack in, a joyful smile on his face.
“Feels like a part of me just settled back in place.” She turned her head to find his warm gaze on her, the sun turning his hair gold. “Thank you, Ariel.”
A part of her own heart seemed to settle as the boat gently rocked them. “You’re very welcome. I feel the same. I’m glad I’m here to witness your return to the water.”
“Me too.” He cast again, and she wondered if he had done it for the sheer pleasure of doing so. “Any bets on who catches more?”
She reached over one-handed to grab the red hat she’d tucked into the pack she’d brought and plopped it on her head. “Ooh… Sexy side bet or regular bet?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his aviator glasses, the sight of which had her belly tightening with need. “Why in the world would I choose a regular one now that I know sexy is in the offing? Any thoughts on what you’d like?”
She felt a tug on her line and cried out, knowing she’d hooked something. “There’s a place on Market Street that sells homemade fudge sauce. I want to cover you in it and lick.”
“Good Lord, woman! I’m fishing here. That kind of image will have me falling out of the boat.”
“Maybe the fish would like your big old pole?” she quipped, reeling her fish in capably.
Sherlock gave a loud ruff as she brought the fish in. Dax moved the net closer to her body. “Only one person I want to enjoy my big old pole. Look at you, girl. That’s a nice-sized fish.”
She reeled it close enough to grab the net and then maintained her balance as she tried to snare him one-handed. “Yeah, it’s a flounder.” She had it on the second pass through the water and hauled it in, wiggling hard.
Making sure to secure her reel—she’d lost one to the water when she’d first gone fishing as a girl—she unhooked the fish and then set it on the fish mat and ruler to check if he met the South Carolina size limits. He did. “Twenty-one inches, baby!”
“Nice one, babe!” Dax called out brightly. “If you want, I’ll bleed him for you and put him on ice. Davey said it wasn’t your favorite thing. Makes sense to me. You save people for a living.”
Her eyes widened at his insight. “Yeah, I… Seems hypocritical to catch it and then balk at killing it, but no, I’ll happily hand that task over to you.”
To her surprise, she found herself watching him as he adeptly bled the fish and handled the rest before laying it with near reverence in the ice chest. His whole demeanor was the calmest she’d seen since they’d met, outside of sex. He seemed looser. Yeah, she’d been right to bring him.
“You’re up next for a big catch,” she called, flashing a goofy smile.
He only picked up his reel and cast off, turning his body toward the main waters. They fished in silence, and she savored the rush of warm air over her body and the easy rocking of the boat under her. Sherlock would give an odd bark to tell her if a fish was near. Not that she hustled for it. She brought in a slimy seventeen-inch trout she was only too glad to hand over to Dax, who really did seem to enjoy the entire process. That was fine with her.
“I’m up on you, Captain Hotpants.” She reached into her pack, grabbed the sunscreen, and tossed it to him. “Put some on. You’re burning without a hat on. And then think about me, smearing the warmest fudge sauce all over that hot body of yours.”
“Elizabeth…I love this naughty side of you.” His voice was a deep, sexy rumble filled with promise. “I never knew fishing could be so sexy.”
Her laughter rippled out easily like the water around them. “When I was an adult, Grandma told me she and Davey used to have all sorts of fun when they went fishing. Her eyes would sparkle, and she’d cackle a little, talking about skinny-dipping and the like. No real details. Only the kind of fun stuff that made me happy for her. They were good together.”
“Can I ask why they didn’t marry?” he asked as he cast again.
“Grandma said after two unpleasant divorces, she was going to stay single and have fun. While she and Davey were exclusive for the last five years of her life, they didn’t live together, and honestly, she said she liked being by herself. Keeping her own schedule. Not having to keep house for a man.”
She could still hear her grandma humming softly as she puttered around her house or her little flower garden. The thought of the house had her diaphragm tightening. Surely with the wedding on, Tiffany was going to give it to her. It was getting harder not to think about it. She wanted to putter in that house and plant flowers in that side garden so badly it made her teeth ache. She brought up a positive image to keep her spirits up. Maybe she’d try her hand at growing heirloom tomatoes. They would make good salsa.
“She sounds like a woman who knew her own mind.” Dax shifted his long legs in the boat. “I like that in a woman.”
She sent him a flirtatious smile as if to say you’d better. He laughed. “I think Davey wanted to get married but when Grandma turned him down and told him why, he wasn’t willing to let her go. He accepted her on her own terms.”
“Acceptance seems to be one of the main drivers in a successful relationship.” Dax straightened when he had a tug on his line. “I’ve got one. Ariel, you’d better get ready for some healthy competition.”
He started reeling in like a pro, and Sherlock went over to his side, his tail raised in its comma-like position.
“What’s going to be your pleasure if you win, Captain Hotpants?”
He grabbed the net and hauled in a sizeable redfish, which he unhooked and measured at twenty inches. “You on your knees in red lace. How about that?”
She gulped, and it wasn’t because he’d started cleaning the fish. “But I don’t have any red lace, Captain Hotpants,” she said in a playfully breathy voice.
“Honey.”
The heated way he said that endearment had her thighs clenching. “Yes, baby?”
He was grinning as he put the fish in the cooler with the rest. “That can be remedied.”
Suddenly, fudge sauce and her on her knees was all she could think about. He hauled two more fish in—a nice trout and another flounder—while she reeled in another slimy trout.
He was cleaning her fish when she said, “I say we call it. Both of us win. Which means I wear red lace and you wear chocolate sauce.”
His grin lit her up with pure joy. “Not at the same time, however.”
She puffed out a laugh. “That would be a mess.”
“I like this fair and noble way of settling a bet, Elizabeth.” He put her fish in the cooler and wiped his hands down with alcohol wipes. “I’m certainly going to like us both winning. Are we heading to Market Street for a few purchases after we get off the water?”
“How does that strike you?”
He smacked his lips. “Mighty fine, I must say. Are you ready to head back?”
“Are you?” He was the reason they were here mostly, and she wanted to make sure he was happy. “I know it was a big day for you.”
Gazing out at the water, he laid his hands on his knees. “Ariel, this is one of the happiest days of my life. I could almost feel my grandpa thinking I’d done pretty damn well, coming back to fishing like this. With you. Thank you.”
Her heart beat thickly in her chest at the steady way he was gazing at her. “Like I said, I’m glad I’m here with you. No place I’d rather be.”
He extended his hand. She took it. “Me either.”
“Careful,” she cautioned as he pulled her to him and kissed her softly on the lips.
“I was only planning on kissing you.” He nipped her bottom lip. “Sherlock is watching, after all.”
She could hear the amusement in his voice. “Good point. Besides, I don’t want to tip the boat and end up in the water. Did you see how slimy those trout were?”
He laughed in her ear, planting quick kisses along her neck. “Squeamish. I should have known. You didn’t even clean one fish.”
She poked him. “You offered!”
“I did.” His drawl was husky. “I suppose we should head on back. If I kiss you any more, we’re going to risk seriously rocking this boat.”
Her belly tightened with need. “Start the motor.”
She angled back to her seat as he set them on their way. The wind ruffled her short hair, and for the first time, she actually loved the feel and cut. Her former shoulder-length hair wouldn’t be dancing around her head the same way. Acceptance. Maybe it was the way to go across the board. The sun warmed her face when she turned it up like she was a cute little sunflower. Laughing at herself, she heard Sherlock give a short, delighted bark. Yeah, they’d all needed this.
When they returned, Davey helped them dock the boat. He exclaimed over their catch, and Ariel urged him to take the fish off their hands since they were still at the resort and likely not going to cook. He patted her on the cheek, his ruddy cheeks deepening with his endearing smile.
“I’m going to keep them in the freezer for you—to enjoy when you’re living in your grandma’s house.”
She nodded past the tightness in her throat. “That’s so sweet. You’ll come over and we’ll have our first fish fry.”
“It’s a deal.” He jerked his head to Dax. “He’s coming, right?”
Looking at Dax, she watched him pocket his aviator glasses with a grin. “If I’m invited. Davey, you should know I’m thinking I might be moving here too. I’ve got a new job as a corporate pilot.”
The two men headed toward the Bronco, talking. Ariel was smiling as she followed them. It made her heart swell to see them getting along so well.
At the car, she gave Davey a huge hug. “Thank you for everything.”
“Ah, baby girl, it’s good to see you doing so well. Makes my heart happy, and wherever your grandma is—she wouldn’t want me to speculate any—I’d bet she’s pretty damn pleased herself. You look good, and you’ve got a pretty great fella here.”
She kinda did. Her grin could not be contained. “See you soon?”
“If I don’t see you sooner.” He turned to Dax, and they shook hands warmly. “Nice to meet you too. Y’all come back now. Anytime. Even if you need to get away for a little while to escape the madness. All right?”
“All right,” Ariel agreed, getting in the Bronco when Dax opened her door.
She knew Davey was pleased by the way he nodded at Dax. Moments later, they were on their way with Sherlock, and she was wiggling in her seat in happiness as she gave him directions to downtown.
Red lace.
Fudge sauce.
Best day ever.
They had fun finding her something in red lace, although it took two stores, but the fudge sauce was a piece of cake.
When they returned to the resort, people were waiting on the front steps of their cottage. She sighed. Dax sighed. Even Sherlock’s pace slowed. They hadn’t turned on their phones yet, and wouldn’t you know, she probably had a slew of texts about the latest crisis.
“Stephan, I suddenly want to make a break for it.”
Sherlock gave a dull whine and looked up at them with his sad, expressive eyes. She gave him an encouraging pat.
“Me too, Elizabeth.” Dax looked down at her, his bearing becoming almost battle ready. “Should I hide our special little package here? The bag might?—”
“Right.” She worried her lip, telling herself she was an adult. “Maybe it would make them leave us alone?”
His laugh was as dry as the surrounding sand dunes on the beach. “Really? After everything we’ve experienced so far?”
“You’re right.” She groaned quietly. “Better to flaunt it, then. Make them wonder.”
“I like that. Smile now. They’ve sighted us.”
“How did they know we’d arrived anyway?” she hissed.
“ Lord of the Flies lookouts likely.”
She choked. “Good one. Okay, here we go.”
The Three Tornadoes were on the front steps along with Alison and Presley, brightly colored sundresses flapping madly in the wind coming off the beach. Ariel noted Tiffany had used some pick-me-up regimen. Her eyes and skin were no longer puffy or red. One bonus. Thankfully her mother wasn’t with them.
“Everything okay?” she asked brightly as they reached them, hoping she was wrong.
Tiffany and everyone else’s gazes seemed to lower. She saw a few shocked expressions. Tricia even gasped aloud.
That’s right. Lingerie and fudge sauce. Who’s the lucky girl?
The shock and curiosity lasted less than the life of a fly before Tiffany strode over and nearly slumped against her, ignoring Dax. “Oh, Ariel. It’s so awful. I keep thinking what’s next.”
She slid her arm around her sister, shouldering her weight as Sherlock gave them a wide berth. All her earlier happiness drained out of her, like she was a boat and her sister had poked holes in her all over. “What now, Tiff?”
“You need to see it for yourself.” Tiffany took her hand and dragged her down the steps and then onto the path, Sherlock trotting at her side.
She could hear the herd of footsteps behind her and knew Dax was joining them. He wouldn’t let her face this next crisis alone. She spotted the discreet sign on the ground pointing the way to the seaside area where Tiffany and Rob would exchange their marriage vows with the reception to follow in a tent. Following the path, she waited for the problem to become apparent, and boy, did it ever.
Stopping short, she felt her mouth gape like the trout she’d caught earlier. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!”
The usually pristine, carefully manicured green grass before her was pockmarked with pools of mud.
Bubbling pools of mud.
At least eight of them.
All situated where the wedding and reception were supposed to be held.
The Deverell wedding curse had struck again.