Page 48 of Love and Other Trials
He smiled at her.“Elizabeth, no one is running away. Least of all me or your awesome dog here.”
A goofy smile appeared on her face. They stared at each other for a moment before Sherlock gave a gentle ruff as if giving his two cents.
“That’s my cue to go.” She tugged his shirt and gave him a scorching kiss. “That’s for me.” Another tug had his mouth back on hers, moving sweetly. “That’s for you. For being such a nice guy.”
“I’ll take it.”
He smoothed her hair back and then headed over to see if there was a to-go cup anywhere in the kitchen. Her footsteps running to the back of the cottage sounded behind him. Opening the cupboards, he was happy to find a glittery purple to-go cup. He wouldn’t want his coffee in it, but maybe it would pep her up. He had it waiting for her when she ran back to the front.
“Okay, I’m off. Wish me luck.”
“You’ve got this.” Another kiss and she was out the door.
Closing the door, he went to finish his coffee and then buy some garlic.
When she wasn’t back after two hours, he started to worry, a rarity for him. But they were in enemy territory and he didn’t have complete information or a good sit rep. Since he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to mention this to his buddy, he didn’t text him about where to find the women. Since Sherlock was taking a nap, he headed alone to the lobby and asked where Tiffany’s new wedding cottage was located. Cruising through the winding path toward its spot directly on the beach, he spotted theLord of the Fliesnephews chasing egrets and pelicans at the shore.
“Wild savages,” he muttered as one threw a rock at the funny-looking little white bird pecking in the sand for his next meal, making it squawk and fly off. “Stay out of it, Dax. Nothing good comes from shouting at other people’s kids.”
He increased his pace.
“Hey!” Marshall was chasing after him, Ripp running in pursuit. “Hey! Can you take us for a ride in your Bronco? I think it’s awesome. My mother is acting nutso over her wedding dress not fitting because she’s too fat. Her mascara is running, and she’s moaning about there not being a wedding if there’s no wedding dress, which is okay with me, but it’s driving me crazy.”
Was it horrible that he didn’t want to stop and converse? The kid had just called his mother fat—hopefully something he’d overheard someone say—and suggested he was fine with the wedding not happening. Dax would chalk that up to the kid thinking he wouldn’t have to move and leave his friends if the wedding didn’t go off. Honestly, he couldn’t blame the kid for that. He reached for patience. This was going to be Rob’s stepson. He’d see him when he visited. Maybe he should make an effort.
“That’s because it’s a serious situation, Marshall, but one they’re handling. Where did you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here,” the kid told him, throwing another rock toward a bird flying overhead.
“Understandable.” Dax leveled him a look when he threw another rock with pretty good accuracy, making the bird veer to prevent getting winged. “You know…that bird didn’t do anything to you.”
The kid looked at Ripp before shrugging.“So.”
“So,” Ripp echoed, cocking his head defiantly.
He studied Marshall. He was tall, thin, and bony while Ripp had a rounder look to him, freckles spotting his equally round face. They didn’t do smiles, and as Dax thought back, he didn’t remember seeing any. Wasn’t that weird? He remembered being happy as a clam as a kid, playing outside, hanging with his friends.
Maybe these boys’ lives were like Ariel’s childhood.
Maybe he needed a little more compassion.
“All right. Let’s go.”
He had no idea where to take them, but the boys let out a whoop, so he figured it probably didn’t matter. They ran off, giving him time to knock on the bridal cottage.
No one answered.
Marshall reached him along with the rest of the boys when he was coming down the steps. “They’re all gone because Mom is too fat for her dress.”
“Hey! Language!”
“Fat isn’t language,” Ripp informed him with his brand of kid-like cockiness. “Fuck and shit are.”
Dax shot him a hard look. “Calling someone fat isn’t nice, so in my book, it counts.”
“Whatever,” Ripp answered, the rest of the boys nodding their agreement.
God, he felt old, and he never felt like that. Was it his age that had him thinking these kids were brats? Of course Ariel had said they’d acted like this since early on, which was sad really. Normally he liked children. His sister had two great boys. His brother had a little girl with curly blond hair who’d just gotten her front teeth. They played games and hugged him every chance they got when he was home.
