Page 61 of Love and Other Trials
“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 aweird as hellwave. “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.”
