Chapter 12
TWELVE
The whiskey was almost finished, the garlic wreaths nearly done when footsteps sounded on the front door porch.
Sherlock gave a welcome ruff. Dax felt a silly grin spread across his face. He and Rob had spent the afternoon shooting the shit. Back on track. Now his girl was home…
His girl? Yeah, that’s how he was thinking about her.
“Hide the wreaths!” Rob hissed.
Dax pulled them out of his reach. “Why?”
When Rob made another grab, Dax held them behind his back. “Because I’m about to lose my man card here.”
“Aren’t you telling Tiffany you did this?” Dax asked as Rob made a strategic lunge.
“Yeah, but I’m going to swear her to secrecy after.”
“Seriously?” Dax evaded Rob again. “Who are you going to say made them?”
Rob gave a wicked grin before making another attempt at them. “You.”
“Funny! But you’re not getting them…”
“Ah…hi there!” Ariel stopped short at seeing them. “I didn’t know?—”
“That we were going to make the garlic wreaths you suggested for the wedding?” Dax shot Rob a look as he held up his pride and joy, modeling it in a way that would have done Vanna White proud back in the day. “This is mine. Rob’s is?—”
“Traitor.” His buddy picked up his mostly empty drink, knocking it back like he had most of the bottle. “Only Tiffany is to know I did this. Got it, Ariel?”
She gave a polite cough of suppressed laughter. “Of course.”
“Thanks, Ariel.” Scowling like a thunderhead, he pointed to their craft project. “Mine is a piece of shit.”
“Which is why I am donating my wreath to you.” Dax handed it over like he was presenting a king a new crown. “You can even say you made it.”
“Go blow yourself.” Rob hid a raised middle finger behind his large palm. “So Ariel… Is everything good with my honey now? I could tell she was really upset earlier, and you gals were gone a long time. Where did you go?”
She was suddenly as pale as the glue paste Dax had seen in one of the many wreath videos they’d watched. “Yes, we got our errand finished. Wedding rules. All I can say is that you might want to go find Tiffany.”
Rob gave a dramatic wince. “That bad? Good thing I’m fortified. But I’ll take the bottle if you don’t mind.”
Maybe what he’d told him about Tiffany hadn’t gone unheard, after all. Dax held it out. He knew Rob drank more when he was stressed, and while he didn’t like it, there wasn’t much for him to do. Rob blasted him whenever he said anything.
“I’ll keep the wreaths here so it will be a surprise.” Dax clutched his wreath playfully to his chest. “I’m always going to treasure them and the time we spent together making them.”
“Maybe take a pic and send it to your mama.” Rob snorted as he strode to the front door with the kind of determination Dax was used to seeing from him when they were on an air carrier heading to their planes. “I’ll bet she still has that stupid little paper plate art that you made in kindergarten with all the glitter.”
Rob loved Dax’s family. God knew how many holidays he’d spent with them, so normally Dax would think his friend was joking. Except there was a hard edge to this barb. He decided to answer anyway. “Mom does, actually. She keeps her favorite things we made as kids in her bottom drawer beside her bed. We tease her about it sometimes, but she says it makes her happy to open it up from time to time and remember how far we’ve come.”
Ariel gave a strangled sigh. “How sweet.”
“And that’s what makes Dax the luckiest son of a bitch when it comes to family.” Rob’s dark eyes went flat. “Man, I’ll catch you later maybe. Tiffany has some sorority sisters coming tonight and she’s told me she’ll probably be partying with her girls. That’s still on, isn’t it Ariel?”
She shrugged. “Probably, but you should check with Tiffany.”
Dax studied Ariel. She was biting her lip, mostly frozen in place with Sherlock beside her. He doubted she’d be included in that party. Not that she probably wanted to attend, especially after today. “I might have plans, Rob, but text me.” Because it looked like Ariel needed him more right now.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Rob gave him a cocky mini salute. “See you later. Ariel.”
He was out of the cottage in a blur, the door shutting hard behind him.
The silence in the cottage was potent. Ominous almost. Sherlock hadn’t left Ariel’s side yet.
“How bad was today?” He came forward until they were a yard apart, wanting to take her in his arms and hold her until she leaned on him. “Or don’t you want to talk about it?”
She rubbed her forehead like she had a headache. “Bad. We went to three seamstresses in Charleston and finally found someone who could alter the dress—but Tiffany is worried about how it will look. I feel terrible for her. And Mother— No, I’m not going there. All I want to do is take a shower and wash the day off. Is it only four? It feels like it should be midnight.”
“I’m sorry.” Even he knew a dress incident had to be like the worst wedding disaster ever. “What can I do for you? Start your shower? Rub your back? Get you an aspirin?”
She walked over blindly and touched the garlic wreath on the table. “You did it.” Her voice was whisper-soft and rough as hell. “You actually did it.”
He could feel heat rising up his neck. “Honey, it was nothing. I had time. I thought Rob and I needed something to focus on. We’re used to going all the time. When speed is your best friend, you have little patience. Plus, we have to break this curse, don’t we?”
He only said it because he wanted her to know he understood the severity of the situation. If they could still joke about it, they could defeat it. Even if it was only in people’s minds.
Her face lifted, and there was so much sadness in it, she could have beaten Sherlock out in a sad eyes competition. To make her laugh, he held the wreath up to his chest and wiggled it.
“Is this enough garlic, do you think? Or do we need more?”
An errant laugh came out before she pressed her hands to her face. “Sorry, I’m just tired. I was fine until I started walking back to the cottage, and then it hit me. It’s like they sucked all the energy out of me. I need a shower and something to eat. Mother wouldn’t let us have anything because, and I quote, ‘Tiffany obviously does not need to eat.’”
“That’s terrible.” What a bitch. Sending gratitude to his mom, he set the wreath aside and pulled her to his chest. He caressed her back softly, hoping to infuse her with his strength. If only he could share his mom with her. His mom was going to love her. “I wish I could make all this better. For everyone. Because Rob isn’t right either somehow. I finally saw it today even though there’s nothing really that I can do.”
She squeezed her arms around him tightly, like he was a lifesaver in a turbulent ocean, while he rested his chin on top of her head. “Stress and weddings in my family go together like raccoons and garbage cans.”
God, he hoped he wasn’t projecting. “I grant you the point. It’s valid.”
Maybe she was right. Except he knew Rob. Something was wrong, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it, even though he should probably leave it alone. Lots of people were involved—and he cared deeply about two of them.
“I missed you today,” she whispered against him, pressing her face into the center of his chest. “Sherlock, I missed you too.” She held out her right hand to the dog and gave him a good rubdown.
“Hey! We missed you too, didn’t we, Sherlock? Come on. Let’s get you into the shower. I’ll rustle up something for you to eat.”
She pulled back and touched his jaw. “Thank you, Dax. I won’t be long.”
“Take as long as you need.” He cupped her cheek, noting she wasn’t as pale. “If you think of anything else I can get you, I’ll get it. Ice cream run. Ride to the beach so you can walk this off. Anything.”
Because right now she was hurting, and he’d do anything in his power to make it stop.
“You’re so sweet.” She reached up and pressed her face to his cheek. “Thank you for being so nice to me.”
God, she might as well have gutted him. “Ariel. Honey. Being nice to you is a piece of cake. Best part of my day. Come on. Go wash it off, and then we’ll make it better.”
He wanted to kiss her, softly and slowly, but she needed to settle a little more.
She gripped his forearms, trying to smile, as much for him as for herself, he imagined. “There are some days when I wish you really could kiss it and make it better. This is one of them. God, forget I ever said that.”
Turning quickly, she hastened from the room, leaving him and Sherlock watching the space where she’d been. “She’s in a bad way, buddy. But I’ll bet you’ve seen that before. Go to her. I’ll find her something to eat.”
Sherlock’s expressive eyes blinked, and then he was trotting after Ariel. Dax decided to put the garlic wreaths out of sight. The last thing she needed right now were reminders of why they needed garlic in the first place. He decided to jog over to the lodge and see if he could pick her up something like a piece of fruit or another snack. Maybe she needed some air. She loved the beach. He’d suggest they go for a walk if she was up to it.
She was up for it, he discovered, when she returned from her shower. He was glad to see her polish off the banana he’d found in the snack area, along with two mini bags of Cheetos.
“Mother would yank these bags out of my hands if she saw them. She’d tell me I was playing with fire. Right now, she approves of my waistline, but after eating this? She’d chide me something fierce.”
He could feel his jaw crack as he clenched his teeth. How could anyone say that about their own child? He knew it happened. Rob and plenty of his friends had come from families that hadn’t treated them right. But it didn’t compute. How could you not be crazy about your own kid? “Well, I think you’re perfect.”
She only managed a stricken smile before agreeing to his adventure on the beach so she could get some air.
“Turn right,” she called as they reached the end of the road leading to Folly Beach. “There’s a place to park where we can hit the beach right past 9 th Street on the left.”
He followed her directions, noting the golf carts parked out front and the brightly colored houses on stilts.
“Can you turn into the next driveway on the left?”
Puzzled, he pulled into the gravel driveway of the two-story white house with green shutters. It was built on stilts like the rest of the ones they’d passed. Flooding measures, he imagined.
When she put her hand on his arm, he already knew what she was going to say by the way she seemed lit up from the inside. “This is Grandma’s house. I wanted you to see it.”
He cupped her cheek. “I’m glad you brought me here, Ariel.”
“Me too.”
He stopped the engine and went around to open Ariel’s door before letting Sherlock out. She had another heart-tugging expression on her face as she left the car, one he wanted to fix but knew he couldn’t. Grief. He got choked up like that whenever he thought of his grandpa.
“It’s a really nice house,” he commented softly as she walked over and touched the palm tree in the front yard. “I like the flamingos the most. She must have been a cool lady.”
Pretty determined too, he imagined, since there was only a wide wooden staircase in the middle. He wondered how a little old lady had climbed it, because he didn’t see a ramp or anything. None of the houses they’d passed seemed to have anything but stairs, yet many of the people he’d seen in the area were older.
Sherlock was pressed against Ariel’s side now—his favorite place. “She was the coolest, and yeah, she loved her life-size flamingos. Said it told anyone passing by she was a fun bird who wasn’t afraid to stand out. Plus, she loved shrimp. God, she could eat a pound by herself. But only in her later years when she relaxed some about that kind of thing.”
Her voice was raspy, and he had a moment. Was it a mistake for them to come out here? “Is this bringing back too many tough memories? Because Ariel, we can do this another time.”
She shook her head. “No, I wanted you to see. Plus, there are good memories here, even though I miss her hard. I tried to shimmy up this palm tree once. Failed miserably. And see that white shell wind chime? I made that when I was eleven. I spent one whole summer scouring the beach for the best shells and then found some old fishing wire in the tackle box and strung them. I gave it to her for her birthday. She loved it.”
He went over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension there, but worse, the grief. Sherlock gave a sad whine as they looked up at the house from the ground.
“I love this place,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her chest. “When I need a happy thought—besides you—I think of this place. That’s how I got through today, and that’s how I’m going to get through this wedding.”
He could hear the resoluteness in her voice. “It’s a beautiful house, Ariel. I can see why you love it so much.”
She slid her hand into his, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He clasped it, and when she looked up at him, her heart was in her beautiful baby blues. “I’m glad. I wanted you to understand. She’d have liked you a lot. You’re what she’d have called a fine fella.”
He traced her cheek with his free hand, deeply moved. “I’m glad you wanted to share it with me. Her memory too, because I know how precious those are. You don’t just share them with anyone. Only people who will treasure them. As I look around, I see a lot to treasure. Besides you, there’s the smell of sea in the air. The way the flamingos brighten up the front yard and how your shells blow in the breeze. I like seeing something that means so much to you. Because Ariel, I want to know everything I can about you.”
Her smile was soft and sweet and almost heartbreaking as she gazed up at him. “I like hearing that, and Dax, I feel the same way. Let’s do more speed dating questions when I’m up for it. But first, I’d like to take that walk on the beach.”
They headed there holding hands and didn’t let go the entire length of the beach and back as Sherlock walked with them. Neither one of them said much. They didn’t need to. The rush of the tide and the call of the seagulls was its own soundtrack, along with the sound of nail guns and electric saws from the surprising amount of construction taking place on the homes lining the beach.
When he caught a few porpoises playing out in the deeper part of the ocean, he pointed them out to her. She had wonder on her face as she gazed out at them—and with the setting sun on her face, making the gold highlights in her hair come to life, she looked so beautiful he stopped breathing.
Yes.
Her.
This moment.
They’d had a few of them, and this one seemed significant because of its lack of talking. There was an easy camaraderie between them, one that didn’t need to be filled with chatter or questions. His other interactions with women hadn’t been like this, and he liked knowing they could be like this together. He knew it was another item checked off on a long-term relationship list somewhere.
When they finally came back to the car, Sherlock went over to sniff at the bushes while Ariel lifted her gaze to the cute little white house again. “I have something I need to do. It’s a Charleston tradition to bury a bottle of bourbon in the ground to be dug up for the wedding. Rob loved the idea so I put one in the ground when I was here not too long after they got engaged. Tiffany didn’t seem inclined to want to dig it up with Rob, saying they had better things to do. I might as well do it now.”
“If you grab a shovel, I can do it for you. My muscles need a little workout after all that wreath-making.”
She gave a sputter of a laugh—not a full one yet, but a start. “You still look pretty good, but I’ll help your muscles out. Be right back.”
He stayed in the yard, gazing around, taking in little details. The railing at the bottom that could use a touch of paint. The way a couple of the paver stones could use some leveling. Little things. House details. Ones that made his hands itch to be useful.
“Here you go, Stephan.” She appeared at his side with a sturdy shovel with a green metal edge. “Or is this a Captain Hotpants’ job?”
“Probably not Stephan’s,” he told her, grabbing the shovel. “Now let’s dig up this buried treasure.”
Her rich laughter filled the air, lifting his heart. Yeah, she was feeling better. And he’d liked helping her get there. When she pointed to the area beside a garden gnome with a blue outfit and red hat, he had her move it aside and started digging. Carefully. When they unearthed the bottle, he rubbed off the sandy dirt and made a humming sound.
“Buffalo Trace. Rob’s fave.”
“Tiffany might not have wanted anything to do with the digging, but she thought of that.” She reached for the bottle and made a face. “I’ll have to clean this up. Here’s hoping it will add some extra luck because we need all the luck we can get.”
Understatement of the century. “Hey! No one else dug up the bourbon so that’s pretty lucky, if you ask me.”
She nodded before grabbing the shovel and heading back to return it to where it was stowed. When she returned, her gaze scanned the house. Longing filled her eyes.
“Do you want to go inside? We aren’t on a schedule, you know.”
She laid her hand on the end of the staircase, rubbing the wood absently. “No, I’ll go in when I’m packed and ready to move in. I’m going to bring a bottle of champagne with me to celebrate. Grandma always did love the bubbly. If you’re around maybe, I hope you’ll come with me to toast.”
He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it softly. He planned to be there. He was glad she knew it. “Count on it.”
Their gazes locked, and he finally gave in to the urge to kiss her. On the beach, she’d seemed to need time for reflection. But now she lifted onto her tiptoes to meet him halfway and curved her hand around his nape. The first touch of their lips rocked him back. She was hot and sweet and so giving it nearly brought him to his knees. He gave her back everything, knowing she was searching for something in the kiss and hoping she found it.
When she finally drew back, her smile spread across her face, and then he knew.
Whatever she’d been looking for, she’d found.
He ran his fingers over that smile and knew he’d remember this moment until the day he died.
Her breathing was still coming hard, but so was his. He nodded to the palm tree. “I could give you a boost if you wanted to give climbing it another shot.”
That had her laughing quietly as they headed to the passenger side of his Bronco. “Maybe later. Right now, I want real food. How do you feel about burgers?”
“Are you kidding? I could eat them every day.”
“I know just the place.”
She was true to her word. The restaurant had a beach vibe with its outside bar and seating. Twinkle lights danced above them. Palm trees swayed amidst yellow tables and chairs situated in a green-like jungle. Paradise Bar was a good name. He’d felt like he’d arrived in paradise, with the best girl in the world at his side, and the pretty damn best dog too.
He had the smash burger, she a buffalo blue. They plucked fries from each other’s plates and fed each other a morsel to try. Her two blue Curacao margaritas made her lips and tongue turn the same color, and he leaned across the table at one point and whispered, “I can’t wait to see how you taste.”
Her blue eyes heated, and under the table, her hand caressed his thigh under his shorts. They stared at each other after that, waiting for the check with increasing impatience. Usually he liked hearing bands, but the one setting up in the corner couldn’t tempt him tonight.
He wanted to be alone with Ariel, and Ariel alone.
When they got back to the resort, Sherlock headed to his makeshift bed beside the fireplace as Dax quickly closed all the blinds and curtains. Ariel grabbed his hand the moment he was finished and led him in a rush back to his bedroom. Her blue eyes were filled with light and heat when she said, “I thought we could try out your bed tonight.”
“Have at it, honey. Mi casa es su casa .”
She was laughing as he took her mouth in a deep kiss. The impatience from before had them tearing at each other’s clothes. He couldn’t get to her warm skin fast enough. She clearly wasn’t in any mood for slow because she tugged his shorts down immediately and took him into her sweet little hand, milking him until he had to stop her or die.
“Have mercy, honey.”
She pushed him back onto the bed, getting the rest of his clothes off, and slid a condom on him before undressing herself. “Not tonight.”
When she straddled him, he was ready for her. She didn’t want any preliminaries, and when he touched her core, he understood why. She wanted him in a way that made him even more desperate. Fitting himself to her entrance, she lowered herself down onto him, and then everything went wild. He bucked under her as she arched back, and they drove each other on until their cries mingled, releasing them from the sweet torment they’d endured. She collapsed on top of him, and he was more than fine with that. He handled the condom and fitted her against him, feeling like he’d died and gone to heaven.
“Was it better for you?” she whispered against his chest. “Because it was better for me, and I didn’t see that happening. It was already insane.”
He could barely laugh. Hell, he could barely feel his body over the mad electricity still coursing through his system. “What you said. God, Ariel.”
“Oh, Dax.” She squeezed him tightly. “I’m so glad we’ve met.”
“Not planning on going anywhere, by the way.” It was time to put it out there. “This is me saying I want to date you. Exclusively. I want to find a way to make this work. Are you freaked out?”
She kissed his chest and then the underside of his jaw, lingering with an assuring tenderness. “Not a bit, which is why I know I’m good. When I’m uncomfortable about something, I get a headache or I break out in hives.”
She’d had a headache earlier, he recalled, but he wasn’t about to bring that up. Instead, he lifted her arm and studied it. “No hives. Whew!”
She lifted her head, looking like the sexiest, sweatiest mess this side of Biloxi. “Dax, you are the best.”
He kissed her softly, so sweetly he was sure both their hearts rolled over. “Ah, Elizabeth. What you do to me.”
She laid another kiss over the center of his chest, and he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth, the woman, and the magic between them.
When he heard a pounding on the door, he groaned. “That can’t be good.”
Ariel was already rolling off him and pulling on her clothes. “What time is it?”
He turned to make out the digital clock and winced. “Almost eleven.”
Another groan sounded from his girl, and he felt her pain as he put his clothes back on as well.
“You don’t need to get dressed.” She started for the bedroom door. “I’ll go see who it is.”
“Like I’m leaving you to face it alone.”
He followed her out into the living room. Sherlock was at the front door, staring at it, his tail sticking straight up. Yeah, he knew they had a problem. “Last chance, honey. I can say you’re asleep.”
Ariel only grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. Tricia and Terry stood on the steps with two other blond women. All were clenching their hands, worrying their lips.
“What’s the matter?” Ariel asked, stepping outside as he joined her.
Tricia looked at Terry before turning back to them. “Oh, Ariel. We don’t know what to do.”
She put a hand on her sister’s arm. “Where’s Tiffany?” she asked, her voice filled with alarm.
Dax could feel his stomach churn.
Terry gave a strangled cry. “We don’t know! Ariel, she’s disappeared.”
Dax thought about going inside and putting the garlic wreath around his neck.