CHAPTER 29
Claire
This was the most exquisite type of torture.
Claire gripped the stem of her flute, filled with tonic water and lemon, her gaze lingering on Ian as the photographer took photo after photo of the tux-clad groomsmen.
When he had emerged from his walk-in closet, dressed to the nines and looking for all the world like he belonged on a billboard in Times Square, Claire had not wanted to let him step out of the penthouse.
He had been busy with groomsman duties, and for the past several hours, she’d had to endure being only able to watch him. Standing on the altar as Jon and Sylvia exchanged vows, Ian’s gaze had sought Claire’s when the priest’s words were particularly poignant.
As the evening progressed, it became increasingly difficult to keep from grabbing his hand, dragging him off somewhere private, and setting upon him.
Unfortunately, this reception was being held in the LarsAir hangar with the door wide open, revealing the backdrop: the gleaming fleet of airplanes parked on the tarmac, with the LarsAir 2024 as the centerpiece.
This was the first time Claire viewed the impressive supersonic airplane Ian had told her about, a more elegant, smaller version of the Concorde that Lars had developed.
It, along with the rest of the fleet, was a more phallic display than you could ever hope to see, and that was where the photographer had decided to do a photoshoot with the groomsmen.
All of them were handsome, but Ian stood out, looking like gift-wrapped testosterone and making Claire wish she had brought a couple of fresh pairs of panties to change into.
“OK, guys, now turn and look back at me! Look provocative!” the petite blonde photographer instructed, gesturing with her camera.
The group pivoted, but Claire’s eyes were on Ian, watching him turn, cross his arms, and look over his shoulder.
The photographer groaned. “Come on, guys, what’s with those expressions? You can do better than that! Think of the hottest thing you’ve ever done.”
Ian caught Claire’s gaze. A slow, impossibly sexy smile spread across his gorgeous face, and she thought she would dissolve into a puddle right there on the glossy white floor.
“Hot, aren’t they?”
Claire turned to see Angie, drop-dead gorgeous in a clinging, shimmery aqua dress, a half-full champagne flute in her hand.
“Hello, Angie. I was wondering if I might see you here.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Lars always throws the most incredible parties in the hangar.” Angie took a big gulp of champagne, her heated gaze roaming over the group.
She sighed. “Another man I wanted, taken and out of the game. It’s enough to drive a girl to drink.”
Not nice to covet the groom. Claire tried to maintain a neutral expression. “Jonathan was a catch, that’s for sure.”
She could feel Angie’s eyes boring into her. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about Jonathan. I meant Ian.”
“Oh.” Claire’s stomach clenched. She took another sip of her tonic water and forced herself to smile.
“I’d like to know what you did to that man so I can learn what worked so well.”
“How do you mean?”
“I got a little piece of him back when he was fun, but I couldn’t close the deal.”
Claire’s stomach rolled.
“That man is sex on a stick; would you agree?”
Claire nodded.
“I’ve fucked a lot of guys who were sex on a stick, but he is different. Even back when he made the rounds, he was different.”
Jesus. Claire gripped her glass a little tighter. Maybe she, too, should have filled her flute with champagne.
She wanted to get away from this woman, but curiosity got the best of her. “How so?”
“A lot of guys would have become bitter assholes after going through what he did, but except for turning somewhat promiscuous, he didn’t change.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you. He’s not one to wallow.” Her slightly glassy gaze rolled over the group, now posed in a half-circle, their arms around each other. “I don’t know all the details, but I was there for the fallout when his fiancée dumped him.”
Claire’s brows rose. “When was this?”
Angie’s face took on that look people exhibit when trying to concentrate under the influence of alcohol.
“Two years ago. At that time, Ian worked out of an office in the Lars building.
I thought it was hot that he could fly planes and serve as an attorney too.
I would have been all over him right away, but I had a boyfriend at the time.
“One day, a flight attendant applicant walked in.”
A server arrived with a tray of shrimp and scallop skewers, and Claire waited impatiently as Angie paused to take two and began slowly sliding off the seafood with her teeth.
The waiter looked to Claire, but she shook her head.
Her stomach was clenching so hard she was sure it would reject anything she tried to eat.
Angie finally swallowed, gesturing with the second skewer. “She didn’t get the job, but she got Ian.
“He doted on that girl. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and I have to admit, I was supremely jealous. That face of his and hot bod aside, every woman on the planet dreams of a man who treats her like that.”
“How did she treat him?”
“In the beginning, great, I think. They were engaged, but she kept putting off the wedding, saying she wasn’t ready yet. He finally made her commit to a date. You should have seen that man; he walked on clouds every damned day.”
The group moved to the 2024, posing alongside it with Jonathan in the middle, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“What happened?”
“About a month before the wedding, she said she needed to go on an all-girls’ trip as a last hurrah. The day she was due back, she texted Ian to say that she had missed her flight. A FedEx envelope came the following week, addressed to him. I watched him open it. It was her engagement ring.”
Claire gasped. This, she had not expected. What kind of woman did that? She could only imagine Ian’s face when he saw the contents of that envelope.
“She never returned. He wasn’t the same after that.
I took advantage, of course. We all wanted to console him, and he let us.
I was the last one to be with him the week before he up and moved back to Fargo.
Best five nights of my life. The man is a sex machine.
” Her gaze raked over Claire. “I’m sure you know that, though.
I can only imagine how he fucks someone he actually cares about. ”
Claire licked her lips. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I’ve watched him go through the same crap for the past three months, and this time he didn’t let me console him.
I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but I do know one thing: for whatever reason, the man is in love with you.
I thought you’d broken up, but now I see you’re back in his life.
” Her eyes bore into Claire’s, blatant hostility glittering in them.
“I don’t think you understand the gift that fell into your lap.
And I don’t want to see him hurt like that again. ”
Claire wrenched away her gaze to see Ian approaching, and a thread of panic wound through her, realizing it was too late to turn and go somewhere else.
Her heart swelled with every step as he came nearer and with the giddy notion that she was the one he wanted to date.
She was the one who would get to take him home tonight. She wished she could do it right now.
“My ears are kind of hot.” With an inquiring smile, he came to stand beside Claire and slipped an arm around her waist, drawing her to his side.
“Hardly surprising since you are smokin’,” Angie smoothly replied.
He grinned at her. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.” He tipped his head. “You two have been chatting for a while. What are you plotting?” Ian spoke to both of them, but his heated eyes looked down on Claire.
“Oh, you know, the usual things girls scheme about.” Angie winked.
Ian raised a brow. “That’s what I was afraid of.” He threw Angie a glance before he caught Claire’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Come on. They’re about to cut the cake.”
·
“Who”—Angie’s eyes grew round— “is that?”
“Damn, Ange.” Ian smirked. “If you were a cartoon, your eyes would have sprung out of their sockets.”
Angie went quiet for a moment, her eyes fixed on the broad-shouldered man who scowled, his arms crossed, as the bridal couple strolled to a spot marked with a red carpet on the tarmac.
“Holy …”
Ian flashed a grin. “Trust me, there’s nothing holy about that dude.”
“You still haven’t told me who he is.”
“You haven’t seen him yet? That’s Mac. The new guy, fresh out of the Air Force.”
“That … is Mac?” Angie’s eyes were saucers. “I thought he was an older guy.”
“You thought wrong.”
“He’s grumpy.” Angie said it as if it were a good personal attribute.
Ian chuckled. “He lost the coin toss to fly left seat with Jon.”
“When is he starting?” Angie’s eyes remained riveted on Mac.
“Already has. They’re going to fly the 2024 together. At least, that was the plan. They sort of got off on the wrong foot.”
Angie licked her crimson lips. “I’d like to get off on—”
“Shh,” Ian cut her off.
A microphone squeaked, and a tap reverberated throughout the hangar.
“Good evening, everyone,” Adam Larssen’s baritone boomed from the speakers.
He waited a beat for the chattering guests to come to attention, and Claire marveled again at how much he looked like Ian. Or, rather, how Ian looked like Adam. It was as if their parents liked the mold so much, they reused it.
Beside Adam stood Eve, his petite brunette wife, who Claire had earlier met and discovered she liked very much. They made a striking couple.
“The bride and groom decided that I should be the one to thank you for helping them celebrate the best day of their lives. Jonathan is a man of few words, and trust me, you don’t want to hear those.”
A ripple of chuckles and giggles.