Page 19 of Love and Other Trials
God, she’d rather poke her eye out with a fork. Trey was a douchey real estate agent from Palm Beach who excelled in mansplaining and drinking piña coladas. But he liked to party, like her mother, and they’d been together for eighteen months.
One thing was certain: Ariel wouldn’t be planningthatwedding.
“Thanks for thinking of me.” She did her best to smile. “But I need to hit the ground running to make sure Tiffany’s wedding is all she hopes for.”
“And to get your grandma’s house,” Mother had to add. “You and Captain Cross appear to have gotten rather close rather quickly. As for staying here in his cottage, it looks bad, Ariel. Shacking up with the best man. Also—you’ve upset your sisters. You were supposed to mind your nephews. Terry had to wake poor Morris out of a dead sleep to take your place last night.”
“They didn’t run it by me, Mother.” Sherlock gave another whine. “I’d been looking forward to having a quiet place with room for Sherlock, especially after staying in temporary housing this past week.”
“But why wouldn’t you want to spend time with your nephews, Ariel?” Mother’s usually smooth forehead was wrinkled. “This is family time. You can be alone when you go home. Don’t you ever get tired of being on your own?”
She bit the inside of her cheek.Don’t argue. It will only make things worse.But she was fed up with this kind of treatment. She was thirty-one years old. She was paying for her own cottage. It wasn’t right.
“Mornin’, Stormy,” Dax drawled with a flash of a smile as he stepped out onto the porch and joined them, hair wet from his shower.
He shot Ariel a quick smile, and she managed a weak one as he stepped close. Yes, focus on him and not her mother’s glare.
Turning to him, she punched up her smile. Freshly shaved and smelling delicious of pine and spice, he looked absolutely like Captain Hotpants. He wore a white T-shirt that fit his muscled chest to sheer perfection, along with tan cargo shorts and flip-flops. God, even his feet were perfect.
Ariel caught her mother’s appraising glance and watched as she smoothed her cool white blond hair over her shoulder, a glimmer of a femme fatale smile appearing on her now-relaxed mouth. Because Deverell women always wanted to turn men’s heads with their charm.
“Dax,”she drew out with equal sweetness, looking pointedly between the two of them. “Pleasure seeing you again.”
“Thanks for letting Ariel bunk with me.” He might be channeling sunbeams given the wattage of his smile. “Turns out it’s the best thing ever. We’re plowing through wedding stuff and getting on the same page, so Tiffany’s day is going to be the best Charleston has seen. I know how important it is to Rob for his bride-to-be to be happy. Well, isn’t that lyrical of me?”
He laughed. Neither Ariel nor her mother joined in, the tension as thick as August humidity.
“We’ve got to go see about some koi and a bunch of other things, but I promise to have Ariel back later so you ladies can catch up more.” He extended his arm to her. “Shall we?”
Ariel wondered if her mother was going to let Dax get away with such a ploy. But her mother only smiled that siren smile of hers. “Can’t keep a naval officer from his duties, can I? Y’all have fun now.”
She gave Ariel a hard look before sending a flirtatious wave that made Ariel queasy. Then she hurried down the steps and was gone.
Dax let his hand drop to his side. “I did my best, but she’s a tough customer.”
“The poor grass would probably fry under her glare,” she told Dax. “But thanks. Let’s go before we get derailed by anyone else.”
He pointed to the beach. “I found a way to access the parking lot from the beach so we won’t have to walk around the lodge. It’s a little longer but?—”
She grabbed his hand and started off, Sherlock trotting beside her. “Brilliant! I’m not above taking an alternate route if it helps me avoid everyone. My mother made me a wig appointment. For two o’clock.”
He was biting the inside of his cheek when she glanced over. “What are you going to do?”
Seeing the beach, all she wanted to do was dive into the water and spend the rest of the day swimming with him. “Would you think I’m a terrible person if I get the wig and then blame our uncle’s beagle for snatching it and burying it on the wedding day?”
His chortle scattered a trio of seagulls pecking at washed-up shells. “Not a bit. That’s genius actually. I’ll be an eyewitness. How about this?”
He struck a considering expression, shaking his head thoughtfully as they continued to walk. “That beagle had Ariel’s wig in its mouth in two shakes of a lamb’s tail and was off. I chased it, heaven knows, but the damn dog up and vanished on me like a ghost in New Orleans. Poor Ariel. She’s just going to have to make do with the hair God gave her.”
She burst out laughing. “That’s perfect!”
He held out his fist for a fist bump. “We’re a team. I’ve got your back. As for your wig appointment, we’ll get you plenty ready with some margaritas beforehand.”
She gestured to her purse. “I was thinking it would be a flask moment, but margaritas work. Chips and salsa too.”
“Done,” he said as they reached the parking lot. “Elizabeth, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”
Her heart fluttered, and who could blame her? The morning sun made his sandy hair nearly golden, and he’d just managed to save her from a trial. “Stephan, I couldn’t agree more. Now, let’s find my golf cart.”
