Page 16 of Love and Other Trials
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 Ireallyunderstand 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.”
