Love and Other Trials

Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Tiffany was missing!

“How did this happen?” she nearly shouted before pulling herself back from the cliff.

Sherlock barked at her agitation, and Dax rubbed her back in a show of comfort she appreciated and needed.

“We don’t know.” Terry pressed her forehead to Ariel’s shoulder, hanging on for dear life. “We were all drinking in the lodge and talking about how much Mom hates us. Alison and Presley’s moms hate them too.”

She sent Tiffany’s pale sorority sisters a brief smile. They were leaning against each other, looking like an Oreo cookie stuck together with their black and white sundresses.

“My mother offered to pay for a nose job as my wedding present.” Alison gripped Presley’s hand as she whispered that horrible secret through clenched teeth. “Usually, my story makes Tiffany feel better—she loves our my mother is worse than your mother game. We’ve played it since college. But it didn’t help this time. She just kept crying and saying this wasn’t supposed to happen. That everything was ruined.”

Tricia came closer to Ariel, her eye makeup smudged from crying. “Tiffany went to the bathroom and didn’t come back, so I finally went to check on her. She’d had a lot of her new silver Patron, and I got worried she might be sick. But she wasn’t there. I thought maybe she’d gone back to the cottage, but she wasn’t there either.”

“So Tricia texted her and ran back to find us,” Terry picked up, finally releasing the grip she had on Ariel’s shoulders. “We’ve all texted her and called her, but she’s not responding.”

Not good. Tiffany always had her phone on. She texted like some people breathed.

“She’s not with Marshall and the boys?” Ariel asked to cover all bases.

“God, no!” Terry exclaimed. “But we did run by there and check before coming here.”

“No one’s seen her in the lobby of the hotel either.” Tricia grabbed her hand before she could ask if they’d checked if she was with Mother, which seemed unlikely. “Oh, and her car is gone.”

Asked and answered. Ariel’s stomach sank. That was really bad. Drinking and drama was a terrible combination, even more so with a vehicle in the mix. “All right. Have you talked to Rob?”

Terry and Tricia exchanged a look before glancing back at Alison and Presley.

“Let me guess,” Dax broke in. “He’s passed out. He was pretty stressed today with Tiffany being so upset earlier.”

They all reluctantly nodded, clustered together like wilted cheerleaders after a kegger.

“It’s fine,” Ariel told them even as her mind raced—her goal of getting Tiffany’s wedding to come off was getting further away again. “We’ll find Tiffany. Okay, let’s think about this. It’s eleven-ish on a Tuesday night. Where would she go?”

“Anywhere,” Terry said unhelpfully.

She gritted her teeth. “Where would she feel comforted? Safe?”

“Grandma’s house maybe,” Tricia offered brightly as she twirled her strawberry blond hair around her finger.

“Good.” Ariel tried to give a reassuring smile. “Dax and I will start there.”

He squeezed her waist and headed back inside, likely for his keys.

“What can we do?” Terry asked in a strangled voice.

“Yeah, Ariel, we want to help.” Tricia’s lip wobbled. “She’s our sister.”

Sending them off in their cars was impossible. “I know you want to help, but the last thing any of us need is for y’all to drive right now. Besides, with my search and rescue background, I’m the ideal person to look for her.”

Giant tears started to roll down all four women’s faces like condensation on a glass of iced tea. “We’d never have drunk anything if we’d known this would happen,” Terry nearly wailed, throwing her arms around Ariel. “I’m so sorry.”

She was too. Tiffany could be anywhere and the more people out looking for her, the better. Thank God she had a plan.

“You can help.” She wiped Terry’s tears and gently pushed her blond hair back behind her ears. “All of you can keep your phones on. If she comes back, you text me right away. Okay? Now, I need something from Tiffany. Something she just wore or touched.”

Tricia gasped, her hand going to her mouth. “You’re going to use Sherlock? Oh, Ariel, you’ve always been the smart one.”

She repressed a wince. “Yes, I’m going to use Sherlock. Now, can you get me something she wore recently?”

They all nodded, and then there was a flash of rumpled sundresses rushing off the porch. Dax came out with his keys, two water bottles, and a sweatshirt for her. He’d already put one on that said Navy. All business. The bag he held up was the one the resort had put in their room for laundry. “I also brought a flashlight and a blanket and more water. What else do you want me to bring?”

She stared into the bag. My God! She went to a dark place, thinking about them needing a flashlight and blanket. Tiffany liked the ocean…

“You don’t think something serious has happened to her?”

He shook his head crisply. “Let’s not go there. No, I think she was really overwrought and needed a break. But I’m a prepared kind of guy. She’s probably wearing either shorts and a tank top or a sundress. It’s not cold per se, but when a person’s in distress, their body temperature drops. I’m just being overly cautious. Ariel, take a breath.”

She took a few cleansing breaths and then went inside. “I need to gather a few things for Sherlock. Come on, buddy, we’re about to go to work. You know Tiffany, right? Well, she needs us to find her.” Taking out her phone, she crouched next to him. Most people would think she was woo-woo for doing this, but she knew dogs were smarter than most people, so she showed him a recent photo of Tiffany. “The scent will be his guide,” she told Dax, “but I truly believe a photo can help establish an incentive. A stake, you might say.”

“I would believe that. I think dogs are awesome. Planning on getting one when I settle down.”

“You’ll be so good with one.” She pulled up a video Tiffany had sent of her and Marshall sending a birthday greeting. “Bloodhounds are known for their sense of smell, but with their large ears, they also have good hearing. I’m giving him all the input I have to help find her.”

Dax’s hand landed on her shoulder and massaged it. “Ariel, we’re going to find her.”

She walked to Sherlock’s dog bowl, indicating she wanted him to drink. When they worked, she didn’t usually let him stop until they had an official break. He knew the drill. She gathered a few more treats and packed up his bag.

Noise sounded on the porch. She opened the door before Terry could knock. “We found the yoga clothes she was wearing before she tried on her wedding dress.”

Which meant she was probably in the sundress she’d worn to the seamstresses. Ariel took the pile her sister thrust toward her. “Thanks. This is great. Was she still wearing that sundress?”

“Yes.” Tricia worried her earring. “I hope it wasn’t weird we were in there when Rob was snoring.”

“He’s used to people coming and going when he’s sleeping,” Dax assured them with a brief smile. “No privacy in the Navy.”

“Right,” Terry answered with an audible sniff. “Thanks for helping us find our sister, Dax. We all feel better knowing you’re going with Ariel. It’s late, and we don’t want her going alone.”

“Ladies, I wouldn’t leave her for the world.” He put a couple of reassuring arms around them and led them down the steps. “Now, why don’t you head back to the lodge and make some tea or coffee? We’ll give you updates as we have them.”

Ariel appreciated him taking care of them as she did a final check on what she needed.

“I’m thinking about waking up our hubbies,” Tricia said on a ragged breath. “They went out drinking too after playing golf with Trey—but maybe they’re okay to look now that they’ve slept some.”

Ariel clamped her teeth together at the thought. She wasn’t surprised no one had mentioned Mother. But her brothers-in-law? They were okay, but they weren’t good in crisis situations. She and Dax shared a look before he turned his star power on Tricia. “How about you let Sherlock do what he’s good at? If we need more help, we’ll circle back. You ladies take care of yourselves for the moment. We’re going to get going. Ariel?”

“We’re ready.” She clipped Sherlock’s leash on. “Aren’t we, buddy?”

He gave a quiet ruff as they left the four women. Dax hurried beside them and had their doors open when they reached the Bronco. “How do you want to handle this since she took a car?”

“I’d like to start at Folly Beach. If she’s there, Sherlock will pick up the scent.”

“So we’ll park at your grandma’s house.”

She nodded, and then they were off. When they arrived, the lights were all out and Tiffany’s Honda wasn’t there.

“Do you want me to stop here even though it’s empty?” Dax asked, his strong profile illuminated by the dashboard gadgets.

“No, her scent will be here from the other day, and I don’t want to confuse Sherlock. Let’s head downtown. She won’t be on the beach if her car isn’t here. She’s not super fond of the beach at night.”

“Even if she’s been drinking?” he asked as he started down the street back the way they’d come.

She watched the party lights flash by on the houses as they headed back to the main strip. “When we were kids, she stepped on a jellyfish when we were out at night.”

“That would cure you. Also, what’s the make and model of her car? I want to keep an eye out.”

Ariel told him as they reached Center Street. “I don’t have the plate number, but she has two large dice hanging from her rearview mirror. Calls them her lucky dice. Can you pull over in a space along the street?”

He zipped into an empty spot.

“Good. Now let’s see what we can find here.”

She found the window controls and let down Sherlock’s window. She gave him the command to start his search and had him smell the article of yoga clothing again. He stuck his head out the window again and gave a quiet ruff.

“That’s our boy.” Ariel swung her head to Dax. “He’s got the scent. Thank God. I think I know where she is.”

She let herself out of the passenger side and then saw to Sherlock, clipping on his leash again. He was already sniffing the ground, moving swiftly up the street past the endless row of eccentric bars and kitschy restaurants. She heard Dax slam the doors, his footsteps sounding behind them as he caught up.

“She’s at a familiar place?”

Ariel could already see the blue lights of the bar. “I think we’re headed to Rusty’s.”

“Check out the Honda across the street. Ten o’clock. I think those are dice, right?”

She fought a heady sense of relief—a feeling she didn’t allow when she was working. But God, it was tough. This was her sister, and suddenly Ariel realized how scared she’d been. “Good eyes.”

“Honey, I’m a pilot.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Can I tell you how happy I am that this was so easy?”

She worried her lips as they reached the bar. The place was so familiar, with its beach shack appearance and dark blue-painted planks. A sign with Beach Living was nailed to the black door, which sported a large St. Bernard drinking a flagon of beer. “Don’t speak too soon. I have a feeling the problem might not be so simple.”

Thinking about what they might find, she warred with herself for a moment. Should she bring Dax inside? Or handle Tiffany herself?

Before she could decide, Dax was opening the bar’s twinkly door and walking in. She started after him, almost running into his back when he stopped short.

“Fuck,” she heard him hiss.

Confirmed. It was as bad as she’d thought.

She glanced over at the bar and saw what he had. Tiffany spilling over the bar top in her rumpled sundress, holding the hands of a floppy-haired bartender with colorful tattoos up and down his muscular arms.

A man who happened to be her ex-boyfriend. Fuck indeed.

Dax swung around, his green eyes narrowing, his stubbly jaw locked. “She’s with someone.” He’d practically spat the accusation.

“That’s Bowie. Her first big love. Mother was against it, so they only had a summer, but it was intense. I know this looks bad.”

“Bad?” His stature changed, transforming into soldierlike readiness. “Ariel, this time Rob can’t deny the obvious.”

His phone was out a second later, and he was taking a photo before she could protest. When he lowered his hand and pocketed it, she could tell he was daring her to argue. She couldn’t. Suddenly the small, dark enclosure felt like it was closing in on her, the flashing neon signs of the bar mocking her.

“Look, I need to talk to Tiffany and get her back to the resort.” Exhaustion rose up and swallowed her, and she had to rub her bleary eyes. “Can you take Sherlock with you? I’ll drive Tiffany back in her car.”

His military bearing disappeared, and when he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and rubbed, she saw the Dax she knew, the one she was falling for. He lowered until their heads were eye level. “I meant what I said. I’m your wingman. Come hell or high water. Sherlock and I will wait for you out front. If you need me, just call.”

She nodded over the tightness in her throat and dug out a treat for Sherlock. “Good dog. And Dax?—”

“You don’t have to say it, Ariel.”

“Yes, I do.” She put her hand on his chest, wishing they could both unsee what they’d seen. “Thank you.”

His smile was brief and short-lived before he opened the door, letting himself and Sherlock out. Ariel started walking toward the bar, the smell of fried food and hops strong in her nostrils. No one else was present given the late hour on a school night. Bowie hadn’t even noticed they’d come in, but that wasn’t a surprise—he only had eyes for Tiffany, and truthfully, he wasn’t known for his customer service. He tended bar so he could surf. And party… He and his surfer friends had been notorious for their parties. Whether they still were, she had no idea. But she imagined she’d hear if she ever moved to Folly.

Not that getting her grandma’s house seemed at all likely right now. Tiffany was sitting cozily with her ex-boyfriend—days before her wedding—and Dax had a photo for her fiancé.

She couldn’t seem to make her feet move as she took in the scene.

Rob and Bowie couldn’t be more different in appearance except they were in peak physical shape. Was it their thrill-seeking that had attracted her sister?

As she studied Bowie, she could see the way the ocean and sun had weathered him. His hair was still loose and blond, now a little darker after the colder months, and he had laugh lines around his eyes. But he was still compelling. Ripped in a surfer way. And he obviously had the hots for her sister.

Worse—Tiffany seemed to be equally entranced.

For a moment, Ariel didn’t know what to do. If her sister wanted to be here, Ariel didn’t want to force her to leave, and she knew Bowie would take care of her. Her mother was the one who’d kept Tiffany from being with him, which had only made their love stronger and somehow more tragic.

Bowie finally looked up and flinched. Tiffany swung her head toward her and blanched, her right sundress strap falling down and leaving her shoulder bare. Ariel shuffled forward and awkwardly raised her hand in a weird as hell wave. “Hi! We were worried about you. Glad to see you’re okay after today.”

Tiffany immediately sniffed, her face crumbling. “Today was horrible. I was just telling Bowie. He always listens.”

Ariel took a few more cautious steps forward, nodding to Bowie. “Thanks for taking care of my sister. Like she said, it was a rough day.”

Bowie stood and started to pour a beer from the tap. “Your mother is a bitch.”

When he held the pint toward her, she realized it was her favorite brand. He’d remembered. Oddly that had her stepping up to the bar and taking it. “Thank you, Bowie.”

“I need to get something out of the back.” He touched the back of Tiffany’s hand. “Catch you in a hot sec.”

She sniffed, grabbing a rumpled napkin and dotting her face. “You probably think I’m a slut for being here,” she commented to Ariel.

Setting the beer aside, she took a seat beside her sister and faced her straight on. “I would never call you that. I know today was really hard and coming here was a safe place for you.”

“Did Captain Hotpants come with you?” Her gaze was now looking toward the door.

“Yes, he’s here.” She kept her voice soft. “Sherlock too. That’s how we found you.”

She wiped her runny nose, a picture of pure misery. “He’ll tell Rob about this. God! Everything is such a mess.”

How could she refute that one? “What do you want to do, Tiff?”

Her sister started crying softly, putting one hand to her head. “I just want to get married and be happy. Ariel, I came here because I was so upset. What Mother said to me was awful. Rob was passed out from drinking when I got back to our cottage, probably because all I did when I got home earlier was cry. He doesn’t like me doing that because he doesn’t know how to fix it. I just couldn’t take being there! I felt like I was coming apart. Bowie always makes me feel better about myself, and he doesn’t mind me crying.”

Ariel took her hand and squeezed it. “That’s a wonderful quality in a person.”

“It is.” She wiped her puffy eyes again. “But we weren’t meant to be. I know that. I just needed someone to tell me I’m not fat.”

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. “You’re not fat. Any more than I’m unattractive with short hair. Mother…is Mother.”

She dashed at her tears, inhaling jaggedly. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Tiffany’s voice sounded young and broken and unsure. Ariel hated that. “I know.” She tightened her grip.

They shared an unspoken look, and Ariel could feel tears burning at the back of her eyes. For their shared hurt. For all the moments in between when they hadn’t understood each other. How strange that it was this moment, this hurt, that bonded them at last.

“You’ve got so much going for you,” Tiffany said hoarsely, turning and facing her completely. “Ariel, Mother is right. You are the smartest of all of us, and you’ve got a successful career to prove it. People respect you. All I have are my looks.”

“That’s not true, Tiff,” she whispered, biting her lip as she took in her sister’s complete vulnerability. “You have a great son and a really great fiancé. I don’t know Rob well, but I know Dax wouldn’t be his best friend if he wasn’t special. You have a brand-new life ahead of you.”

“I know that.” Her hand was shaky as she reached for her water glass. “I just wish I was sure he loved me like crazy. Like Bowie did... Oh, Ariel?—”

Her entire face crumpled, and as she reached for another bar napkin, she knocked into the water glass in front of her. Ariel caught it before it spilled right as Tiffany launched herself into her arms. Ariel held her as she cried, rocking her. Feeling that sense of powerlessness she always felt in the face of human grief, whether it be over the loss of a house, a loved one, or a relationship. She simply held on and let her big sister cry.

“I love Rob so much,” Tiffany choked out, clutching her back. “I just want to feel like he really wants to marry me.”

Ariel stroked her sister’s hair, feeling her tears wet her skin. “Why do you doubt that?”

She pushed back and pursed her lips, clearly fighting something. Then she shook herself. “Because I’m pregnant.”

Oh. God.

Not again. Especially since Tiffany had vowed to never let it happen. No wonder she was so upset. God, she’d even lied to Mother about it and confessed to stress eating, which she’d known Mother and everyone else would accept. Biting her cheek so her mouth wouldn’t gape, she only did what she thought would help. She hugged her sister to her and tried to assure her it was okay. That she was okay.

“You know how it happened with Marshall, and I swore it wouldn’t happen again.” Tiffany’s voice was hoarse as she dabbed at her tears. “Except Rob had already proposed so there’s that. Maybe I have a pregnancy curse too. God, I don’t know. But Rob and I had sex after I’d finished a course of antibiotics and somehow it happened. Ariel, we Deverells have the worst luck.”

She was still reeling, and she couldn’t exactly disagree with her sister. She could already imagine what their mother would say.

“And now my dress won’t fit.” She pressed her hand to her stomach, which seemed pretty flat to Ariel. “When I called my doctor today, she said it’s not unusual with a second baby for your waistline to change suddenly this early on. And I have been eating more. I’m hungry. ”

Ariel already knew the answer, but she asked it anyway. “Why didn’t you tell Mother? Or the rest of us?”

Tiffany took a shaky drink of ice water and smoothed her hair back from her brow. “Why do you think? The jokes about me wearing white last time were awful. I can still hear people’s catty comments about me being a slut as I walked away from greeting them at my reception. I couldn’t stand it again, and Mother wouldn’t keep it a secret. Neither could Terry or Tricia.”

How could she disagree? They both knew it was true.

Her sister’s big, watery eyes turned to her then, and she clutched her hand. “Ariel, that’s why I wanted you to handle the wedding. You always make things right. Even when it’s a disaster.”

Hearing her sister’s reasoning made her feel cold inside. There it was again. Her role as the one who picked up all the pieces after disaster struck. She was suddenly sick of it. “So you blackmailed me? Tiffany, why didn’t you just tell me all of this? I would have helped you, and I would have kept it secret.”

“I was scared!” She turned back toward the bar and hung her head, pulling her blond hair over her bare shoulders. “I didn’t want to admit I’d made another mistake. Not to anyone. For once, I wanted to be perfect. Not the bride who got knocked up for a second time. Do you know how humiliating that is? I just wanted everything to be perfect. A wedding is supposed to be the best day of your life, and I hoped that if Rob and I started out that way, then maybe it wouldn’t end up like it did with Teddy.”

Marshall’s father.

Tiffany worried her engagement ring. “I don’t want to go through that again. Divorce is awful. Being a single mom is so hard, Ariel, and Marshall is a great kid, but he’s a handful. He gets into trouble at school a lot. I know Rob is going to be a good influence. A good disciplinarian. And this baby… I want it to have a happier life than Marshall and I did after everything fell apart. Can you understand that?”

Her bones felt like lead. When had her sister ever told her any of this? “Of course I understand, Tiff, but being straight about how things are going for you would help everyone understand. I think it would make things easier.”

Tiffany’s eyebrows flew back to her forehead. “With Mother? Not if hell froze over. And Tricia and Terry would be glad in a way. We all like to think we’re the top sister, you know. We vie for Mother’s approval. When one of us has a problem, it makes us feel better about ourselves. You’re lucky. You don’t have that compulsion. Your dad made all the difference there. Ariel, you’re the only Deverell woman with any true self-confidence.”

Ariel nearly fell off her barstool. Hearing herself referred to as a Deverell woman and self-confident in the same breath was too much. “Is that what you think? I’ve never felt like I belonged with the rest of you. The Three Tornadoes, Stormy’s pride and joy. I’m never included in that. Do you know how hard that is?”

Tiffany sniffed, tears spilling over again, and she grabbed Ariel’s hand this time and squeezed it tight. “I’m sorry.”

There was real contrition in her sister’s voice, and it punched a hole into Ariel’s already battered heart. Ariel took a drink of her beer, reeling from everything they’d just shared. How had it come to this? Sitting in the grungy bar of her sister’s ex-boyfriend, days away from her wedding, and connecting like this? “I’m sorry too, Tiff.”

When her sister leaned her head against her shoulder, she put an arm around her. She caught Bowie coming back in and then immediately stepping back out. Like he was giving them more time alone.

The silence in the bar wrapped around them, and Ariel didn’t want the moment to end. There was love here, and an understanding they’d never had before. For a precious moment, she knew her sister really loved her. Like from her heart loved her. Not the whole you’re my sister or we’re family kind of love that had never filled her heart space. She hugged Tiffany tightly one last time before finally standing up.

“I’m bushed, and you probably are too. Do you want me to drive you home?”

Tiffany looked around the bar. “Sure, but I can drive.”

Ariel blanched as a thought struck her, and she pointed to the water glass. “But?—”

“I lied about switching to silver,” her sister answered, reading her mind. “It looks like water, and there’s no smell. I take the bottle with me to the bathroom, dump it in the toilet, and then fill it up at the faucet. I haven’t had a drink since I found out.”

Relieved, she almost slumped onto the bar. “Smart.”

“Thanks. That’s a compliment coming from you. God, I’m probably being crazy emotional because I’m pregnant, and I’m sorry for that too. Let me find Bowie, and then we can go home. You’re right. I am tired. So tired I could sleep right here.”

She rose slowly from the bar chair and was halfway around the bar when she turned around. Ariel froze at the panicked look on her face. It was back.

“Ariel, will you promise not to tell anyone about the baby?”

Secrets were corrosive, and yet her family seemed to thrive on them. Why would tonight be any different? “All right, but what are you going to tell them about tonight? Because?—”

“I’ll tell our sisters that I needed some space, but I promise you that I’ll tell Rob the truth about coming here. I know Dax is going to tell him anyway, so I won’t ask you to intervene, but please, please, please don’t say anything about me being pregnant. I know you two have gotten tight, but I don’t want to see that judgy look in his eyes. He already doesn’t like me.”

She didn’t want to take that on, and she certainly wasn’t going to bring up Dax’s impression that Tiffany had hit on him. Bottom line—she didn’t want tonight to mess up what was happening between her and Dax. He had his impressions of what he’d seen, and she wasn’t sure Tiffany being pregnant would change that. He’d taken a photo for Rob, and he clearly planned to show it to him. In the end, what Dax said to Rob was up to him. How Rob reacted was up to him.

Who knew how that would go? She expected Rob would still want to marry Tiffany, especially with the baby on the way, but in the end, none of that had anything to do with her.

But all the secrets and the shame and accusations made her sad. The waters ahead weren’t going to be easy for anyone. Then she almost laughed. When had it ever been easy with her family?

She met her sister’s wide, frightened eyes. “I won’t say anything to Dax.”

Tiffany grabbed her wrist in a death grip. “Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Tiffany slumped onto the bar. “Thank you, Ariel! I’ll be right back.”

When she disappeared from sight, Ariel walked woodenly to the front door and let herself outside. Dax was standing on the street, rubbing under Sherlock’s floppy ears, his deep baritone voice muttering encouraging words to her dog. He straightened upon seeing her. “Is she coming with you or is she staying here?”

She realized what he was asking. He wondered if she was going home with Bowie. “It’s not like that that.”

He heaved out a breath. “Ariel, I have to tell Rob about tonight. I can’t in good conscience?—”

He broke off, and it was obvious the weight of love and responsibility felt as crushing to him as her responsibilities did to her. “I know. Tiffany plans to talk to him too about tonight if that means anything. I’m going to drive her back. Can you take Sherlock back?”

A car went by, and a few stragglers came out of a pirate-themed bar a few doors down, talking loudly. Sherlock pressed his head against her side. She wanted to sink down on the ground and gather him to her. Bury her face in his fur and tell herself she was going to get through this week. Because right now, she hurt. And she didn’t know how to make it stop. With Tiffany and her family. Or with Dax.

“Sure, I’ll see you at the cottage.” He stepped close, tipping her chin to meet her gaze. “Ariel, this doesn’t have anything to do with what’s between us. Let me go one step further. I don’t want it to hurt anything between us.”

She wanted to repeat those words, affirming them, but she found she couldn’t.

As he walked off with Sherlock, she wanted to tell herself they would be okay. That her family’s drama wouldn’t end up causing her endless damage too. Instead, she texted her sisters that they’d found Tiffany and were bringing her back.

After she got Tiffany back to her cottage and let herself into the one she shared with Dax, she started when he stood up from his perch at the kitchen table. Sherlock lay at his feet—a sign of fidelity that made her heart clutch.

Dax had her wedding day wig on the table, lying upside down, with a line of three ping-pong balls, obviously a recent purchase. Two beers stood in an improvised ice bucket. He’d lit a candle for either ambience or romance. She wasn’t sure which.

The gesture rolled over her, making her feel way too emotional. It was his way of telling her that while he had his duty to Rob, and she’d given her word to Tiffany, they weren’t on opposite sides.

She didn’t want them to be on the opposite of anything. Not when they were doing so great.

Rushing across the room to him, she felt his arms close around her. They gripped each other tightly, and the abyss she’d sensed, the one she feared, seemed to close at last. “I don’t want this to hurt anything between us either.”

He eased back and cupped her cheek, his green eyes so tender she wondered if the ground beneath her had disappeared and she was free-falling. “We won’t, Ariel. We won’t.”

Then he was kissing her, and she him. He swung her up into his arms and carried her off to bed, where they both showed each other how determined they were to keep what was happening between them good and true and happy.