Page 66 of Love and Other Trials
An oppressive quiet lengthened between them before Dax bit out, “This is different.”
His friend’s scowl blackened to the point where Dax barely recognized him. “You need to get an attitude adjustment.”
He stepped forward, sticking his chin out. “Or what?”
“Or I can find another best man for my wedding.”
The silence between them was deafening.
“Don’t make me do that, Dax.”
Dax spun around, not wanting his friend to see his face right now. “Fine. But I don’t want to hear dick about any problems between you two. Ever.”
“Understood.” There was relief in Rob’s voice. “I wasn’t planning on telling you anyway. You’re too perfect to understand.”
Dax slowly turned around, his muscles locking. “What in the hell do you mean by that?”
Rob gestured to him rudely. “Look at you. You get everything you’ve ever wanted. Your family is like the fucking Waltons. You graduated the Naval Academy with honors. You got the first commission you wanted and every other one since. Now you’ve landed a private jet gig with a signing bonus big enough to buy a Bronco. Shit, man, you came to this wedding and might have landed your one and only on the first night.”
Ariel. He couldn’t deny his thoughts were going in that direction.
“So what?” Dax flung his hands out. “This is about jealousy?”
Rob waved him off and started to stalk away. “No, this is about you not realizing that some of us don’t have it so easy, and that when we get something good, we want to hang on to it. Even if it doesn’t meet your vaunted standards.”
He left Dax alone on the beach, striding off in the other direction. Vaunted standards? Was Rob kidding? Having a woman not cheat on you was an elevated view of a relationship? That was bullshit. Absolute bullshit, and they both knew it.
He picked up a shell and winged it into the sea, wishing there were bigger shells and rocks to hurl into the ocean. Because he had so much pent-up anger right now that he wanted to tear something apart.
He began to run. A few strides into it, he was sprinting up the beach, giving himself the kind of punishing run that hollowed him out and left him spent. When his legs were burning so much they were practically trembling, he stopped and bent over at the waist, his breathing harsh to his own ears. The Morris Lighthouse caught his eye. That’s how he felt, he realized. Surrounded by water. Isolated from what he’d once known and valued.
God, what had they done? He and Rob had been friends since they were eighteen. They’d grown up together. As guys. As pilots. As officers. He started walking, not caring that the tides rushed over his shoes.
Should he leave? Would it be better if he did?
Except how could he leave Ariel? First, he didn’t want her to face the wedding alone. Second, he’d promised her he’d be at her side. Third, hewantedto be at her side.
Shit, this was such a mess.
When he grew closer to the cottages, she was sitting on the steps of the back porch facing the beach, a cup of coffee in her hand. Sherlock was beside her, plopped down with his face near his paws like he was exhausted. Dax tried to smile. But he couldn’t. There was this ball of lead in his chest, one he wished he could reach inside and rip out with his bare hands.
Her mouth tightened like she understood. She lifted a to-go cup of coffee toward him. “I made you some coffee. And brought you a water. I saw Rob a while ago. He looked a little like you do.”
He sat down next to her and took the coffee, scrubbing his face. “How do I look?”
“Pissed off and sad.” She laid her head against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Rob said he’d straightened you out about last night and then he thanked me—and Sherlock—for finding Tiffany and understanding what had happened.”
Turning sideways, he studied her face. She was still a little pale, and her hair carried a messy bedhead look, but to him she looked both beautiful and somewhat resigned. “Am I the only one who doesn’t understand?”
“No, Dax.” She put her arm around his waist. “But I have a bigger scope than you, and while I understand how Tiffany ended up there last night, I’m not saying it’s the choice I would have made.”
Meaning going to one’s ex for comfort.
“Me either.” He deflated at her quiet understanding, then leaned down and kissed her softly. “I want you to know that.”
She traced his jaw, her blue eyes filled with warmth and empathy. “I already do.”
He kissed her again, slowly, trying to settle himself as much as assure her. This must have shaken her as much as it had him. “So what now?”
