Love and Other Trials

Chapter 4

FOUR

Today might as well be called Ruin Your Best Friend’s Life Day.

Dax sat up in bed and grabbed his watch. Six a.m. His internal clock was as consistent as his flying stats, even after hitting the hay as late as he had. Would Rob be up and about too? Maybe they could take a run? Talk on the beach? Surely it would be best to have this out away from the property.

When he picked up the phone, his gut tightened. Rob had texted ten minutes ago.

Rob

Hey dipshit! You up? I need to talk to you.

His already tense stomach dropped to the floor. Had Tiffany struck first? He could see her spinning a tale to suit her interests. Her hard looks last night had portended bad things.

He rubbed his morning scruff, wishing for once he was back on an aircraft carrier where trouble like this didn’t happen. But that wasn’t his reality, so he texted Rob back.

Up and ready for a run. Meet you in ten on the beach.

Rob

Dax hauled himself out of bed and did a hundred pushups before throwing on an old Navy T-shirt with a pair of gray shorts. After pulling on socks and running shoes, he headed to the bathroom. Normally he wouldn’t check his hair for a run, but if Ariel was awake, he didn’t want to greet her with bedhead. Or bad breath. After using a comb and a toothbrush, he opened his bedroom door and ducked into the hallway.

Her door was still closed, but as he tiptoed to the front, Sherlock rose and shook off his sleep and headed to the front. Dax wondered about letting the dog out, but he couldn’t deny him.

He grabbed the leash from where she’d laid it on the entrance table, clipped it on, and opened the door. “You take care of things and then it’s back inside. I don’t know you guys well enough to take you with me.”

Bloodhounds were good dogs, and Ariel had trained this one well, but they were like every other dog. Presented with the chance to be outside, they’d want to stay there. He waited for Sherlock, stretching. Sunrise was breaking out in reds and oranges, and God, what a sight. As a man used to being on carriers and in planes, he saw more sky than most, but this sunrise was a doozy. The ocean was still black and navy in spots, the undercurrent visible.

Sherlock trotted over to him and nudged him as if to say thank you. He rubbed him behind the ears. “You’re a good boy. I’m promising myself right now that pretty darn soon I’ll have my own dog. Let’s get you inside.”

Opening the door, he unclipped Sherlock’s leash and stowed it before exiting and heading to the beach. Rob was a dark form only a few meters up, jogging toward him like he had since they’d first met at the Naval Academy as roommates in Bancroft Hall. They’d run together nearly every day afterward. Those rituals of brotherhood had seen him through his homesickness, and their friendship had only deepened.

While Rob had always pulled Dax away from the books when he was hitting them too hard, Dax had returned the favor by helping his buddy buckle down for schoolwork. They’d helped each other meet girls, too. Dax was the one who’d helped Rob make a move on Erin at a local Annapolis hangout, which had led to a two-year relationship. Until she’d cheated on him and broken his heart…

Now he was about to have it broken again. God help him.

“Did I just see you take Ariel’s dog out?” Rob asked quietly when he halted in front of him, also sporting morning scruff.

A leading question if he’d ever heard one. He looked his friend in the eye, which was easy since they were the same height at six-two. Whether he’d be a few inches shorter after Rob tried to knock his block off would be another story. “You know dogs.”

Rob jerked his dark head toward the ocean. “Come away from the house. We have some things to discuss.”

His clipped tone would have made plebes pee their pants back at the Academy. As his friend, Dax usually didn’t take it personally. But today it felt personal.

The tide was low, so he followed Rob out closer to the water’s edge, crunching seashells in his wake as they started jogging. The seagulls cried out. He caught sight of two black shapes leaping in the distance and usually would have smiled at seeing porpoises. Not today.

He came abreast of his friend and wondered if he should stop so they could have it out. Best to keep moving, he decided. Rob had a fiery personality, and when he got going, he was like a bottle rocket. Better to let him erupt and burn out.

“I didn’t want to believe Tiff, but when I saw the dog, I knew. What in the hell were you thinking, inviting Ariel to stay with you?” Rob shot out.

He was getting the riot act for being a good guy? Really? “She was exhausted and needed a bed. She’d wanted space for her and Sherlock, and dammit, she’d just finished working a tornado site. I had a free room. Seemed obvious to offer it.”

“I know you like to be the good guy, but you shouldn’t have butted in.” Rob pumped his arms harder as he picked up his pace, which Dax matched. “Tiffany woke me up right after you left with her sister, upset as all get-out. She and her sisters had everything planned with Ariel staying with the boys, and you screwed that up.”

“They didn’t ask her?—”

“Not. Your. Problem.” Rob punched the air, his frustration visible in the smashed brows on his wide forehead. “Dammit, Terry woke her husband up and had him sleep in the boys’ cottage. That’s on me since you’re my friend, and this when I’m trying to put my best foot forward with my new in-laws.”

Shit. He hadn’t thought about anyone else needing to mind the boys. The in-laws thing might not be an issue much longer. But one thing at a time. “I didn’t know that would happen. Tiffany said they thought it would be okay with Marshall being thirteen and Ripp?—”

“That’s what I said, only to get my head blown off.” Rob scowled fiercely. “Let’s review. You’re the best man. Your duties are to help Ariel in any way, not get in her pants?—”

“Hey! I resent that.” But they were attracted to each other, so he couldn’t deny he’d like to go to bed with her. Only it wouldn’t be crude like Rob was suggesting.

“Dammit, Dax, I know you’re the first guy in a crowd to be the gentleman, but keep out of things between Ariel and her sisters. They have a complicated relationship. You’re the sailor in the port, passing through. Remember that.”

“Aye, aye.” He shot his friend a jaunty salute, to which Rob only grunted in response. “Now, are you done?”

“Yeah. Jesus, I’m revved. I hate it when Tiffany is mad at me. It feels worse than having a missile locked on you.”

Another spasm raced through Dax’s stomach. That bad? They hadn’t even talked about his stuff yet. “Can we stop a minute? I need to talk to you.”

Rob halted beside him and put his hands on his hips. “Fuck. You didn’t sleep with Ariel, did you?”

“No.” He scratched an itch in his brow, likely from the headache starting. “What I want to say isn’t about Ariel. It’s about Tiffany, and I need you to listen to me. All the way through.”

Rob rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re already taking sides between Ariel and her sisters? I knew you’d react like this when I heard you’d come in as Knight Valiant and swept her off to your cottage. Dammit, Dax, I can’t have this. I like and respect Ariel—you know how much—but I love Tiffany. I’m marrying her, and you’re my best friend, so you need to?—”

“She came on to me last night.” He couldn’t let Rob go on any longer. “When you were in the head.”

Rob’s entire face tightened, the bones of his face visible in a scary way now. “What the fuck did you just say?”

He set his weight in the sand and fell back into reporting mode like he would with a superior officer. “When you left for the head last night—right before I went to the airport—Tiffany told me she found me handsome. She ran her fingers up my chest before patting me on the butt. I did not at any point invite this or respond favorably.”

“What the fuck, Dax?” Rob shoved him back hard. “This is bullshit! Tiffany loves me. We’re getting married Saturday.”

“I know.” He didn’t flinch from Rob’s dark glare. “As your best friend, I had to tell you. Especially after Erin!”

“Forget Erin!” Another shove drove Dax back a couple steps. “We’re not talking about this. Any of it!”

“Jesus, you know it’s the last thing on earth I want to do. But our bond is stronger than blood. Dammit, Rob, how long have we known each other?”

Rob held up a hand like he was stiff-arming him in football. “You misunderstood. Tiffany is crazy about me. Heck, she’s even?—”

Dax waited while Rob pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, his mouth grim. “What?”

“Nothing.” Rob’s mouth worked before he shook his head slowly. “Look, you misunderstood. Jesus, this has got to be related to all that wedding curse stuff Tiffany keeps harping about.”

“What?”

“Forget it. Ask Ariel. Wait, weren’t we talking about Ariel when Tiffany came over?”

“We were.” Rob was obviously grasping at straws to explain away his fiancée’s behavior—because a wedding curse? “Ariel thought she might have been jealous?—”

“You told Ariel?” Rob stalked off, the tide coming in and touching his shoes. “Fuck, man, what’s gotten into you?”

Dax followed him. “I was upset. She sensed it. I told her because I didn’t want her to think badly of me. I also needed her to know what I had planned.”

“And what was that?” Rob lashed out, extending his hands wide open. “What, Dax?”

He didn’t flinch, although his insides felt like he was pulling 9 Gs. “I said I was going to tell you and try and stop the wedding.”

“Fuck!” Rob kicked at the sand. “This wedding isn’t going to be anything but brilliant. Like my bride-to-be wants. That’s your mission, Captain. Do you hear me?”

He looked at his friend. “Rob. Didn’t you listen to a single thing I said?”

“You got it wrong.” He sliced his hand through the air. “All the way. Tiffany and I love each other. We’re getting married Saturday. I don’t want to hear another word about this.”

“Rob.”

“No!” His dark eyes sparked. “I know you and your damn code and what you think you know about me, but I don’t want to hear another word. Or we’re done.”

He went numb, like he’d been in the ocean too long after ejecting from his aircraft. This was the first time Rob had put someone else over their friendship. “Fine.”

Rob came over and gripped his shoulder. “You’re my best friend. I’d die for you. God knows I’ve bled for you. But this is my wife we’re talking about. My life. My family.”

Suddenly he couldn’t swallow.

“You misunderstood last night.” Rob’s face was turning red. “We’re never going to speak of this again. I want your word.”

He nodded crisply. What the hell else could he do? “You have it.”

“Good.” He gripped him again before slapping him on the back like old times. “Okay… Let’s finish our run and then get some chow.”

He watched Rob take off, his stride angry and almost erratic. Dax started after him, hugging the water. He was quickly out of breath, probably because he wasn’t breathing. Hearing Rob tell him he’d end their friendship—one they’d had for almost eighteen years—had shaken him.

They ran in silence the rest of the way, and Dax used the time to work out his remaining angst and let it go. Rob had decided what he wanted. It was his life. Dax had done what he’d thought best.

No point in holding on to the past or nursing a grudge.

Still, he was going to be careful not to be alone with Tiffany ever again. His friendship with Rob meant too much to him, and now he knew who his friend would choose when push came to shove.

Their friendship had radically changed though, and that was a genie he couldn’t put back in the bottle.

Rob begged off from eating breakfast when they returned to the cottages, saying he’d grab something with Tiffany. That was fine with Dax. After another healthy slap on the back, his best friend was gone, leaving him alone in the quiet morning. He headed back to the cottage, armed to return to his original mission. Be the best man. Help Ariel out. Make this the wedding his friend wanted—even if he privately thought it was a disaster.

When he let himself inside, Sherlock met him at the door, his sad expressive eyes seeming to stare right through him. He was rubbing him under the ears, taking some comfort in the dog’s presence, when Ariel appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a jean skirt and an off-the-shoulder cream shirt tucked to the side with flip-flops. Her hair was wet from the shower, and her natural beauty was more luminous after a night of sleep.

All he wanted to do was cross to her and fold her into his arms.

Instead, he tried to give her a convincing smile. “I talked to Rob. He thinks I misunderstood. The wedding is still on.”

She seemed to deflate like the washed-up jellyfish he’d run by before she drew herself back up, relief written all over her face. “You okay?”

“Peachy.” He rubbed the scruff on his face. “I need to shower and shave, but then I’m yours. One thing before we get started. I’m almost afraid to ask, but Rob mentioned some wedding curse.”

Her grimace made him feel even peachier. “Yeah. About that. Let me walk you through the basics.”

By the time she finished reciting a long list of wedding disasters that seemed statistically significant in a way he couldn’t make sense of, he was frowning. “Now I really understand the garlic comment. I have to admit that list of disasters blows my mind. If it were me, I’d call it bad luck, but I’m a tangible reality kind of guy, so this curse thing stretches my comfort zone.”

She nodded. “Understandable. You did ask.”

He was already regretting it. “I did. How about we stick to the plan and hope for the best, then?”

“That sounds good to me.” She tucked her hair behind her ear as she ducked her head. “You must think we’re all crazy.”

“Not you. So… What’s on our agenda this morning?”

Her pointer finger traced something in the air before she said, “Koi.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” She covered her hands over her eyes playfully before letting them fall to her sides. “Tiffany wants a koi pond at the wedding. She read in some bridal magazine that they symbolize passionate love and a lasting marriage, the latter of which isn’t something the Deverell women are known for. Apparently, you can rent the fish and the tank.”

He wasn’t going to snort. He was going to be a good person. Forget he and Rob had ever talked. “Okay…”

“It’s a terrible idea, I know, but at least I talked her out of putting goldfish in jars on the wedding tables. PETA and animal lovers—myself included—aren’t in favor of using animals for entertainment purposes. I tried to convince her to have a cocktail party at the aquarium, but she wouldn’t spring for it. This was the best I could negotiate.”

“I’ll shower and get changed.” He passed her in the hall. “Maybe we have something we need to pick up before we land the fish.”

“What’s that?”

“Garlic,” he called teasingly over his shoulder.

Her hearty laughter rang through the house.