Chapter 2
TWO
He should have packed a strand of garlic and hung it around his neck like a vampire lei.
Because maybe him reeking a bad odor would have kept Tiffany from making a pass at him and patting his butt when Rob was off in the men’s room.
The Abrams-Deverell Mission Briefing Book he’d put together had not even hinted at this possibility. Then again, Dax’s book had only listed top-level information about the wedding and Tiffany’s wedding party, with the understanding of more to be gathered on-site as needed.
Wedding Location: Charleston Estate Resort; lodge on-site for socializing, welcome party, and rehearsal. Cottages used for main guests. Outdoor site by beach for wedding.
Bride: Tiffany Deverell; thirty-four; married once to an artist for seven years; thirteen-year-old son, Marshall. Oldest of the Three Tornadoes. Met Rob at a bar on a girls’ night in Pensacola. Dated eight months before Rob popped the question in November.
Maid of Honor/Wedding Planner: Ariel Holmes; thirty-one; half sister; unmarried; dog Sherlock. Lives in Charlotte; relocating to Charleston. Works for disaster recovery organization like Red Cross. Dax’s main point of contact.
Bridesmaid: Terry Deverell; thirty-three (twins); on second marriage to Morris; two kids named Billy and Brooks. Lives in Dallas; second of the Tornadoes.
Bridesmaid: Tricia Deverell; thirty-three (twins); on second marriage to Bartlett; two kids named Ripp and Ryland. Lives in Atlanta; third of the Tornadoes.
Mother of bride: Stormy Deverell; sixty-two; on third marriage to Trey. Lives in Savannah.
Incomplete information was part of every mission. Dax knew that. Even with complete intel, he didn’t think he could have seen this one coming. He’d been so shocked—and he was a naval pilot trained to handle enemy pilots shooting at him!—that he’d just stood there afterward, frozen solid, as Tiffany sauntered over to join her sisters.
Rob joined him a minute later. His closest and dearest friend had nudged him in the ribs and tipped his head over to his soon-to-be bride and said, “Isn’t she the most beautiful woman in the world? I used to think there was no other place I felt as alive as in the cockpit, but with her, I feel that way. Like every sense is heightened. God, I’m so lucky to be marrying her, and I get a son in the bargain. Who has it better than me?”
Dax had glanced over to the platinum blonde in question before he found Marshall running around with his cousins, all up way past their bedtime. He’d only grunted—unable to think of a good way to tell Rob that his fiancée had just come on to him. How the hell was he supposed to tell him something like that? Hey, man, I hate to break it to you, but your fiancée likes ALL men to feel alive. She just made me feel like I was going to stroke out. From shock, sure, but there’s no denying every sense was heightened. Are you sure getting hitched is a good idea?
Drama from the Three Tornadoes had interrupted further musing. He and Rob had overheard them talking about Ariel being at the airport, and they’d wandered over. Arguments had erupted about who was to blame. No one seemed inclined to do anything about it, so he’d offered to pick her up. Everyone had been drinking heavily but him. Being on call as a pilot, he didn’t drink more than a social beer on occasion.
The blustery drive to the airport had done him good. He’d gone through the incident and concluded he could do only one thing.
Talk to Rob.
Stop the wedding.
Which really sucked, since his friend thought he was happy. But what choice did he have? Rob was his pal. His buddy. He had a duty to him. Even if he suspected his friend wouldn’t handle the news well based on how he’d reacted to his college girlfriend cheating.
Ariel reached across the gearshift and laid her hand on his tense arm. Heat rocked through him as he quickly glanced her way—that quick glance enough to make him aware of every little raindrop that wet her skin. Jesus, his electrical system was going haywire. Usually that meant bad things for a pilot, but with her, he didn’t feel any danger. Only a surprisingly deep connection.
But this attraction could be yet another problem since he wanted to stop her sister’s wedding. Shit. He’d known from the beginning she was coming alone to the wedding—like him. He wasn’t seeing anyone, and while he could have found someone to be his plus-one, he hadn’t thought it wise. He was the best man, and Rob had asked him to bring his A game. She’d clearly felt the same.
“I’m so sorry, Dax. Tell me exactly what happened.”
That she believed him was a relief. She was sitting up straighter in her seat, one hand fisted on her jean-clad thighs. Calm outwardly, like he imagined she would be as she was searching through rubble trying to find victims who were still alive.
“ I’m the one who’s sorry to put this on you. It can’t be easy hearing something like that about your sister. And they’re getting married in less than a week. Jesus, what a mess!”
He’d hated to tell her, but he liked her and respected her. He didn’t want her—or anyone for that matter—to think he was the kind of guy who’d encourage or welcome his best friend’s fiancée hitting on him. He’d even hoped he and Ariel might flirt a little and see where things went this week, but that seemed up in the air now, given his impending talk with Rob.
And Jesus fucking Christ, what would his buddy say when he told him? His best friend would never believe he’d done anything to invite it, thank God. They had a code. But how was Dax supposed to live with knowing he’d fucked up his best friend’s happiness?
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Start from the beginning, Dax,” she calmly repeated.
His hands gripped the steering wheel. He’d wanted to pretend he’d read it wrong, but the invitation and flirtatious comments had seemed clear. The hand on his butt had certainly been filled with intent.
Something touched his arm again, but it didn’t feel like Ariel. When he looked over, he saw Sherlock was resting his head against his shoulder. God, it made him long for a dog. He hadn’t had one since leaving home for college. Being away so much, he couldn’t keep a dog. But his heart squeezed a little at the gesture. Dogs always knew what to do. His Lab growing up had slept with him after he’d lost a baseball game. Damn, Jasper had been a good dog, and so had Rover after him. “You’re lucky to have this guy.”
“I know.” She gave Sherlock a good rub under his ears. “Dax, let’s still go the Waffle House, if you don’t mind. You can tell me what happened when you’re not driving.”
Again, she showed the kind of poise he was used to in military officers and emergency personnel. She must be shocked, too, but she wasn’t showing it. “Sounds like a good plan. So how about we talk about you on the way there? Before coming here, I heard you were helping in Omaha after that horrible tornado touched down.”
“Yeah, I was.” She settled more comfortably into a slouch in her seat. “Seven dead, which was horrible. But we managed to save six, and for that I’m deeply grateful. You might have the best buns this side of Biloxi, but Sherlock here has the best nose this side of… Sherlock, what should we say here? The Himalayas? Sherlock has done some of his biggest rescue efforts in Turkey and Bali, so that won’t work. Maybe Perth?”
What did her passport look like?
“I’ve only gotten to Mexico and Dubai and some parts of Europe for fun. Naval aircraft carriers in the Gulf don’t count.”
“I heard you’re leaving the Navy.”
“Yeah, I’d always planned on becoming a corporate pilot at some point. Your shelf life as a naval aviator is only so long, and my new job landed in my lap, so to speak. Got such a nice signing bonus, I could buy this baby. Fully refurbished ’72 Bronco. It’s a honey.”
“Congratulations. Where will you be based out of?”
“Somewhere in the South, although I haven’t decided yet.” He let his gaze track to the online navigation to check the upcoming turn. “I can choose where I want to be based out of. I drove this way after seeing my family in Austin so I could take in my choices. There are a lot of great cities out there.”
“Charleston is a nice town,” she commented softly.
He looked over as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. The way she’d said it was nostalgic and full of yearning. “So you love Charleston that much, huh? It’s my first time here.”
The slow shake of her head, along with the way her blue eyes warmed, had a powerful effect on his heart. He wanted to see why she loved this place so much.
“Well… That makes this city a little more interesting to me. I’ll keep an open mind while I’m in town. It would be great to know someone here. Most of my buddies are on carriers like I just was, and of course Rob has new orders in San Diego as you know.”
Maybe not living in family housing like he’d thought. Jesus, how was he supposed to break the news?
She twisted her hands in her lap as the unspoken reminder hung in the air. “I’m hoping to take over my grandmother’s house shortly, but it’s a little complicated.”
With her family, he could believe it. She should plant garlic in front of her house.
“I have an offer from the hurricane relief center in this area, so Sherlock and I wouldn’t have to travel as much. He’s seven years old now, and we’ve had a really good run. Haven’t we, boy?”
She gave the dog a good rubdown as Dax took the exit and headed down the curve and turned right. The yellow sign for the Waffle House was visible through the rain a short distance ahead. He pulled into the closest parking spot and was out the door to open Ariel’s before she could do it herself. He still liked to treat a woman like a woman.
Her smile was bright as he opened it, first for her and then for Sherlock. Running inside, he fought the urge to put his hand to her back. Being early May, she didn’t have a coat, so she had to be getting wet from the rain. He beat her to the door, and opening that too, he let her and Sherlock precede him.
A tired waitress greeted them and told them to sit wherever they wanted. They picked a spot in the middle, since the place was empty save them, and when he sat across from her, he took a moment to take her in.
Her hair was a messy brown tangle of curls, slightly wet now, cut close to her face. Pixie chic, he might say. Not the shoulder-length hair he’d seen in her photos online and at her sister’s place when he’d visited Pensacola to meet Tiffany after Rob had proposed.
Unlike her sisters, she didn’t seem to wear much makeup or fake eyelashes. Her natural beauty was pure girl next door—just the way he liked it. Fresh-faced. Peachy skin. A little spattering of freckles from where the sun had kissed her. She wouldn’t be the kind of woman he’d wake up with and wonder at the difference in her appearance.
He pulled his thoughts back from that tantalizing door and let his gaze wander to her awesome dog. Sherlock stood calmly beside the table. When she was sitting down, Ariel wasn’t too much taller than the bloodhound, who probably topped out at twenty-seven inches if he were to guess.
His gaze couldn’t stay on the dog long. Not when there was such a beautiful, compelling woman sitting across from him, smelling like spice and fresh rain. He knew Ariel was called “The Runt” by her family because she was tiny, and she was petite, with a hot little body he could easily imagine picking up and wrapping around him. Her skin was wet from the rain and looked luminous, but it was her baby blues that held him in thrall until the waitress slapped a menu in front of him.
“What can I get y’all?”
Ariel didn’t even pick up the menu. “Iced tea, sweet, of course. Angus burger with bacon and hashbrowns.”
He gazed at the menu quickly and noted the options. “First thing. Is there any way we can get some water for her dog? He’s just gotten off a plane. Like my friend here.”
Ariel reached into her purse. “Don’t worry. I was going to give him some of mine. I have a collapsible water bowl.”
“Isn’t that clever?” The waitress touched the blue-ribbed rim when Ariel held it up. “What else strikes your fancy?”
He patted Sherlock’s head when the dog wandered over as if to thank him. “I need some help deciding. If it were you, what would you go for? Pecan waffle? Pork chops and eggs breakfast? Or Texas Cheesesteak Melt?”
The waitress tapped him on the back with gusto. “Why not get all three, honey? You look like a man who could handle all that food and then some.”
He was used to women flirting with him. Erika in second grade had been the first. She’d asked him on a hot day in Austin if he wanted a lick from her fudge brownie ice cream cone. Of course he’d said yes, and that had been the beginning of his longstanding enjoyment of women. He had no trouble flirting back.
Just not with his best friend’s fiancée.
Again, he wondered if he’d done something to inadvertently invite Tiffany to go there. He didn’t think so. He didn’t cross uncrossable lines. Ever. “Ariel, any thoughts?”
The right side of her mouth was curled up in a sexy grin, as if she were enjoying a little secret. “Sweet or savory?”
If it were her sweet little body, he’d say sweet in a heartbeat. “How about a little of both?” he asked with a touch of naughty in his voice.
Her blue eyes flashed with heat as their waitress gave an Mmm-hmm. “How about pecan waffles with a double side of sausage?”
He didn’t take his eyes off hers, watching the way her chest rose with her breath, as if her heart was beating fast, like his was. “Perfect.”
“Sweet tea, for you too, sugar?” the waitress asked with a touch of sauce in her syrupy voice.
“Is there any other kind?”
She picked up the menus. “No, baby, there ain’t.”
When she left, he kept staring back at Ariel, whose blue eyes seemed almost navy now. The attraction between them was growing in power. Like the storm had. He’d watched the clouds swirl and gather before coalescing. He imagined the connection between them would be the same if they were somehow able to continue down this road.
He’d hopefully make her laugh away the worry he sometimes caught winking in the corners of her eyes. And he’d sure as hell make her moan, because this was the kind of woman you gave everything to, a woman who was confident enough to enjoy herself and let go.
“Ariel, I’m glad we stopped here. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you, and honestly, I read a few things online about you and Sherlock. Plus, Rob can’t talk about you enough. He thinks you’re a cross between Mother Teresa and Joan of Arc.”
She turned her mouth up at that. “That’s ridiculous, but Rob is strategic, which makes him a good aviator, I imagine. He thought it was important to get to know me when he came for Thanksgiving to meet the family for the first time after he proposed.”
His diaphragm seized up, prompting him to sit up straighter to ease the tension.
Ariel immediately reached across the yellow table and gently touched his hand. “Ready to tell me?”
He nodded crisply. “Best get it over with. Here goes. I was talking with Rob. About you, actually, and how I was looking forward to meeting you.”
Her face registered shock before she glanced over and rubbed Sherlock under the ears, almost as if she couldn’t maintain eye contact after that admission.
“We’d read about you and Sherlock saving those people in Nebraska. Maybe it’s being in the military, but me, Rob, and our other military buddies have a lot of respect for you. Sherlock too, of course. It takes guts to do what you do. Maybe even more than what we do.”
“Let’s not start comparing.”
They paused to thank their waitress as she set down their iced teas and three glasses of water, with a wink at Sherlock.
“We all do what we do,” Ariel continued. “But you’re digressing…”
He was, and he knew it. “Anyway, your sister came over. She’d been drinking with your other sisters, if you don’t mind me saying. Another reason I didn’t want them driving.” Rob hadn’t been a candidate either, but that wasn’t unusual. Dax had been the designated driver since college.
“Tequila, likely.” Ariel frowned as she filled the dog’s water bowl. “My sisters and tequila have a longstanding relationship. Keep going.”
He could still see the way Tiffany had cozied up to Rob and wrapped her arms around him before leaning in and giving him a long, deep kiss. Dax had almost excused himself to give them a moment, but before he could, Rob had pulled away and said he had to hit the men’s room, leaving Dax with Tiffany.
“Rob went to the head after they’d had an affectionate moment. She looked at him like a bride should, I thought. But then she turned to me and smiled. The vibe felt a little off when she kept staring at me. Then she said she could see why people thought I had the best buns this side of Biloxi. How she’d been watching me… Jesus, this is mortifying.”
He never blushed, but heat was crawling up his neck.
“Keep going. It can’t be more embarrassing telling it than having it happen.”
That was a perspective. “After that, she did some itsy-bitsy spider thing with her fingers up my chest before sliding her hand around and patting my butt, saying I looked good enough to eat.”
“Grabbing it or patting it?” she asked seriously.
“Patting.” He gave her a strained smile. “Like I was her pet.” Or her love slave, but he would never say those words out loud.
Ariel heaved out a breath. “And then what?”
“She leaned in closer.” He could still smell how strong Tiffany’s perfume was, but oddly he hadn’t smelled any alcohol on her breath. “Then your sister, Tricia, shouted out something about you being at the airport, and all hell broke loose. Tiffany headed over. Rob returned. Phones came out. Arguments ensued. I was upset no one had remembered to pick you up.”
Her lopsided smile grabbed him by the throat. “That’s really sweet.”
God, she was easy to impress, but then again, her family had forgotten her. Who did that? Whenever he flew into Austin, his family met him with signs saying, Welcome Home, Dax or We Missed You, Captain.
“If I’d known, I would have been there when you landed, but I thought it was handled. And that’s when I volunteered to get you.” He fiddled with his straw. “I left in shock, trying to make sense of things and then figure out a way to tell my buddy.”
That lovely hand of hers found his again, and this time, he took it and held it firmly. Her hand was slender and fit his perfectly, her touch carrying warmth all the way to his rapidly thudding heart.
“I’m so sorry that happened, Dax. You can’t know how much. I’ve been on the front lines of a lot of the so-called Three Tornadoes’ damage, and this is top of the charts. But while it doesn’t make any of it better, I can tell you that my sisters are all abominable flirts—even while involved or married. It’s mostly harmless, although that doesn’t justify it. They have this compulsion I’ve never understood to make sure every living and breathing male between the ages of twenty and seventy wants them.”
Call him old-fashioned, but he still didn’t think it was right. Even flirting had intent, and it wasn’t how someone should act when they were in a committed relationship. Also, it would surely make Rob crazy given his past with Erin. “I’ve known women like that, Ariel. I just don’t want my best friend to marry one of them.”
“I get that.” She gave Sherlock another pat when he leaned his head against her side. “But it’s possible Tiffany got jealous of you talking about me and wanted to assert her…”
“Dominance?” He scoffed. “Doesn’t pretty it up.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She bit her lip, her inner turmoil obvious now. “You said you plan to stop the wedding. You’re going to talk to Rob?”
“I have to, Ariel.” He squeezed her hand since she looked pale now, his own mouth flattening at the coming conversation. “He has to know. I wouldn’t be his best friend if I didn’t tell him. Do you disagree?”
“No, of course not.” Her hand tensed in his grasp. “ I’d want to know. But you should know… Oh, never mind.”
She pulled her hand free and rubbed her face, as if the lateness of the hour had finally hit her.
“Know what?”
“Nothing.” She picked up her glass and drank deeply before setting it down with a clack. “So you’ll talk to Rob? When? Tomorrow? Because it’s Friday?—”
“Saturday actually,” he countered, holding up his watch showing 2:11 a.m. “Early hours.”
“Right.” She rubbed her face again. “Oh God! What a mess. If he wants to cancel the wedding, maybe I can get back deposits. You’ll tell me right away, right?”
“Of course.” Dax reached for her hand and leaned forward, searching her tired eyes. “Hey! I’m sorry I’m stressing you out. I know there’s a lot on the line here. But we’ll figure things out. Together. Think of me as your wingman. Your sister said Lisa wasn’t working?—”
“Wasn’t working?” Her mouth gaped as their waitress put their plates down and left quietly, her sensible shoes squeaking. “But Lisa— I’m sorry. I think I just left my body. She got rid of Lisa? How could she? Lisa is my wedding assistant. Oh God! This is awful.”
“Maybe the wedding being called off wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you?” he joked before wincing. “God, that was an awful thing to say. Chalk it up to me trying to see a silver lining where there probably isn’t one.”
She tipped her head back to the ceiling. “My sisters aren’t called the Three Tornadoes for nothing. I’ve always thought my family should come with tornado warnings. Seems like the sirens are screaming already.”
He studied her, his thumb finally giving in to the urge to caress the back of her hand. “I just got it. You went into disaster recovery because of your family. Jeez, I’m slow.”
“You’re far from slow, Dax.” She gave him a smile that caught him right in the center of his chest. “And you’re right. I’m compelled to bring order to chaos. Since I was a child, I’ve come in after my sisters wrecked things and put them back together. My mother too, although she’s tempered some. I should thank them really. I found my life's purpose because of them, and I’m damn good at it. We’ll get through this.”
She sounded convincing, and for a moment, the Joan of Arc comparison seemed more than apt. He stroked her hand, trying to assure her he was with her. All the way. “Then we have nothing to worry about.”
She didn’t say anything, and who could blame her?
Ejecting from a burning aircraft would be easier than stopping this train wreck.