by Allie Gail
Almost.
The one person I do feel sorry for is his date. Poor Cassandra…she’s standing by in helpless bewilderment, having no idea what’s going on. I’d like to fill her in, tell her what a slimy piece of congealed toad poop that guy is, but it’s not my circus and not my monkey. She’ll learn on her own, soon enough. Some things you have to figure out for yourself.
Myles looks like he’s ready to tear Brad into little chunks and feed him to the alligators. His electric eyes are throwing sparks, but his voice is controlled and very quiet, just barely audible enough for me to make out what he’s saying. And what he’s saying is none too friendly.
“Listen here, you pencil-dicked little maggot,” he hisses. “The next time you address my girlfriend – which better be no time soon if you know what’s good for your ass – you will respectfully refer to her as ma’am or miss and nothing else. Nothing. Else. Are we clear on that? Or do we need to step outside and discuss this matter further?”
“Wha…aah…?” Brad stammers in a high-pitched croak.
“I’m sorry, what was that? Speak up. I couldn’t quite understand you.”
“N-no! I mean yes – yes, I get it! I get it, man. Jesus…sorry.”
Dropping Brad to his feet, Myles brushes the wrinkles out of his shirt with a frosty smile. “Nice. Very nice. Now how about you apologize to the lady?”
The whole situation is so unexpected, so absurd, it’s all I can do not to burst into hysterical laughter. Still, I manage to keep my cool. Although when I meet his gaze, my expression is probably just as stupefied as his.
“Sorry,” Brad mumbles, his eyes flitting between me and Myles. He looks too close to pissing himself to even consider putting up a fight. “It was just a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I shrug indifferently, unable to think of anything fitting to say.
Myles calmly takes his seat across from me and picks up a linen napkin, using it to wipe his hands. Without even looking up, he adds, “It would probably be in your best interest if I never saw you again. And you might want to keep this in mind. Where Leah is, I won’t be far behind.”
Brad nearly stumbles over his own feet in his haste to leave. He doesn’t even wait for poor Cassandra, who gives us one last wide-eyed look of confusion before trailing out the door behind him.
That’s when I notice how quiet it’s grown.
Cringing, I let my eyes wander. To my horror, everyone in the entire place has stopped eating and is gawking at us. I groan underneath my breath, certain that we’re about to be ordered to leave. Holy shit, I’ve never been thrown out of a restaurant before! This is a first, even for me. And yet…
It’s kind of exciting, in a crazy sort of way. I’ve never had a guy stand up for me the way Myles just did.
“Pencil-dicked maggot, huh?” I bite my lip to hide a smile, even as a burly, towering man comes stalking out of the back and makes a beeline for our table. The manager, I assume, judging by the formal way he’s dressed. Things are about to get really awkward.
I deliberately avoid eye contact with the dark-haired man as he leans forward with his hands resting on the table. In a threatening voice he quietly demands, “Is there a problem here?”
Just as quietly, Myles retorts, “What’s it to you, ass master?”
My head jerks up, mouth falling open in wordless shock. I’m too stunned to react, other than to crazily wonder what the hell has suddenly gotten into him. I mean, sure, Brad was well deserving of the bad end of his temper, but the restaurant manager didn’t do anything to warrant such aggressive behavior.
The man’s eyes narrow into menacing slits. “Oh, a wise guy. Listen here, fella, are you gonna straighten up and fly right or am I gonna have to take you outside and body-slam you into the ground?”
“Just try it, Daisy. I’ll kick your high-heel-wearing ass all the way into the next county!”
“You don’t look like you could kick a bad habit!”
“Wanna go a few rounds?” Myles rises to his feet and I freeze in horror, unable to move or breathe as I wonder if I’ve somehow been transported to an alternate dimension taken over by testosterone-driven lunatics.
Then, to my astonishment, the two embrace in one of those macho, back-patting male hugs.
What the hell?
“Hey, man,” Myles laughs. “Good to see you!”
“You, too. Where’ve you been? I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show up.”
“Sorry. Tried to get here earlier, but we had a little car trouble along the way.” Myles looks down at me, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “Leah, I’d like for you to meet my older brother Ryder, the owner of this here fine establishment.”
I make a mental note to kill him later.
The man takes one of my hands in his, shaking it with a warm smile. “Hello, doll. Ryder Bellamy, at your service. I must say, it certainly is a pleasure to meet you.”
Blinking slowly, I heave a long, shaky sigh. “Well. I see insanity runs in the family.”
They both burst out laughing, while my entire body goes limp with relief. Okay, so Myles isn’t a psychotic maniac after all. Thank heaven for small favors.
“It does indeed,” Ryder agrees, and as his own blue eyes sparkle I realize I can now see a strong resemblance between the two. Myles takes his seat once again, and his brother pulls up an empty chair between us.
“Seriously though, what was all that about? Who was that?”
Myles shrugs it off as inconsequential. “Nobody. Just someone whose apology was long overdue.”
“Ah. Friend of yours?” Ryder eyes me speculatively.
“He’s no friend of mine,” I assure him.
“Then I imagine his apology didn’t amount to a hill of beans, did it?” His eyes cut sharply to Myles. “This one always was overly defensive. When I was five years old, one of the neighbor kids thought it would be funny to start chunking rocks at me. I turned around and hauled ass, but Myles went charging at him like a Fisher Price freight train. Bit the little bastard on the arm. Hard enough to draw blood, too. Kid was three times his size and went screaming home to his mommy. He never bothered either of us again, after that.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Myles snorts. “That never happened.”
“Yes, it damn sure did! Ask Dad. He got a phone call from that kid’s father. You just don’t remember because you were only three at the time. You did it, though.”
“Well, if I did it then he probably deserved it.”
“I never said he didn’t deserve it.” Shaking his head, Ryder gives me a look of mock exasperation. “Is he this hardheaded with you?”
“Only on days that end in y,” I confirm with a smile.
“Don’t let her fool you,” Myles chuckles. “She may look all sweet and innocent, but this one is twice as stubborn as I am, any day.”
“Atta girl.” Ryder nudges me playfully. “You give him hell. Let me tell you, he deserves whatever you dish out after all the crap he used to do to me. Growing up with this guy was no picnic.”
“The crap I used to do? Who fed me dog food and swore up and down it was a new brand of cereal?”
“So? Who locked me out of the house in my underwear?”
“Only ’cause you kept stomping on my Lego fort!”
“Well, what dumbass broke the DVD player trying to stuff carrots up inside it?”
“How was that my fault? You told me it was a magic oven that turned everything you put in it into cookies!”
“Okay, so who sprayed my sheets with a water gun and told everyone I wet the bed?”
“Who had me convinced that chocolate milk was actually cow diarrhea?”
Crossing his arms, Ryder leans back in his chair and grins broadly. “Hey, at least it’s not as bad as what Quinn used to do to us. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah…” Rolling his eyes, Myles turns to me and divulges, “If Quinn ever asked you what the capital of Thailand was, you knew you better start running.”
&
nbsp; “Why’s that?” I ask through my giggles.
“’Cause he’d come straight for your nuts with his fists flying, yelling Bangkok!”
Slouching down, I wrap my arms around my stomach because by now I’m laughing so hard it hurts. “Oh, God! Your poor mother. I’m starting to feel really, really sorry for her. For both your parents!”
“We gave ’em hell sometimes, that’s for sure,” Myles recalls cheerfully.
“That we did,” his brother agrees. “But if there was anyone who could straighten our little butts out with nothing but a look, it was our granddad. We knew better than to try him. Didn’t we?”
“You mean Joe?” I guess I could see that. Even from my limited time with him, it was obvious that he had the sort of gruff exterior that could seem intimidating to a child.
“You’ve met him?” Ryder sounds surprised.
“Yes. Myles took me to see him on Monday.”
“And you two are still dating?” he jokes. Stroking his chin, he adds, “Well, that explains why he kept insisting that Grandma Millie came to see him. He must’ve been talking about you, and got the names confused. He does that a lot, I’m afraid.”
“He took a real liking to Leah,” Myles mentions, just as Skylar appears at the table with our salads. Maybe it’s just because I’m starving, but it looks delicious. Besides the usual stuff you’d expect, it also has radish rosettes, cauliflower and baby corn on it.
“We make the croutons ourselves,” Ryder tells me, watching as I take a bite. “What do you think?”
“Mmm…it’s wonderful,” I compliment him through a mouthful of fresh, crisp veggies.
Myles gives me a surreptitious wink as he spears a forkful of his own salad. “Ironic, isn’t it, considering the only vegetable he’d so much as look at when we were kids was ketchup.”
I’m pretty sure he’s already aware of this, but I feel the need to set him straight anyway. “You know ketchup isn’t a vegetable, right?”
“Try telling him that. Mom used to try to get him to eat green beans by letting him drown them in the stuff. Didn’t work though – all he did was lick the ketchup off and hide the green beans in his pocket. Made for a lot of creative explanations on laundry day, let me tell you.”
With a blasé shrug, Ryder plucks a crouton from his brother’s salad and pops it in his mouth, crunching. “Maybe that’s why I took up an interest in cooking. Had to figure out some way to make veggies edible.”
“Well, it’s no chocolate cake, but I’d have to say mission accomplished,” Myles commends him.
“Ah. Speaking of which…” Ryder turns his full attention to me. “Happy birthday, dear. And don’t worry, the staff isn’t going to break into song and humiliate you in front of the entire restaurant because frankly, that’s cliché and just a little bit tacky. But you will be required to sample some of our dark chocolate cake. Specialty of the house. Oh, and helpful hint – get your own. Don’t listen to the human vacuum cleaner if he offers to split a piece. It’s his favorite and he’ll hoover the whole damn thing.”
“Thanks,” I laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
His expression suddenly changes, as if he’s just now remembered something. “Oh. You know what – on second thought, you might not want to eat too much. Why don’t you get that dessert to go. Have it later. Afterwards.”
“Afterwards?” What’s he talking about? “After what?”
Exchanging an amused look with Myles, he asks, “Hasn’t this dunderhead told you what he has planned for this afternoon?”
“No. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t.” All I know is, it doesn’t involve swimming and yet I’m supposed to wear a swimsuit. I’m thinking maybe he’s chartered a boat or something along those lines. Deep sea fishing is an option that occurred to me, along with kayaking and catamaran sailing. We rode jet skis yesterday, so it can’t be that.
“You aren’t afraid of heights, by any chance, are you?”
Heights? I stare at him, fork hovering frozen in midair, my mind racing with the frantic hope that I’ve misunderstood and he said kites or bikes or something equally mundane. Not heights, though. Anything, anything but that!
“Why…?” My eyes flicker suspiciously between the two of them. Threads of nervous apprehension tighten around my belly. Normally I’m a very adventurous person, really I am, but anything involving extreme heights I’m not exactly a fan of. A couple of years back I went to Busch Gardens with a group of friends and let them talk me into riding Falcon’s Fury. I nearly lost it when we got to the top and the seats tilted forward to a ninety-degree angle before dropping. Face down! Yeah, nobody bothered to tell me it was going to do that.
Legend has it my screams caused a major avalanche somewhere in Colorado.
“Hm.” Ryder presses his lips together, trying in vain to hide a smile. “No reason.”
“Myles! Why did he just ask me if I’m afraid of heights?”
Chuckling, Myles reaches across the table to pat my arm reassuringly. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Ryder’s just picking at you. It’s not like we’re going to be skydiving out of helicopters or bungee jumping off the Tidewater. Relax. We’re just going parasailing, that’s all.”
My fork clatters against the edge of the china plate as it falls from my hand, appetite completely forgotten.
“Parasailing?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Have I mentioned how much I hate you right now?”
She makes this announcement through a clenched jaw, presumably to emphasize how reluctantly she’s on board with this. More likely it’s to prevent her teeth from chattering. I didn’t realize she’d be this nervous, and now I’m starting to doubt whether this was such a great idea. How was I supposed to know she had a problem with heights?
But she’s trying very hard to be a good sport, so I refrain from offering her the option of backing out.
She needs to do this. Somehow, I have to convince her that this day is nothing to fear. Exorcise her birthday demon, so to speak.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!” Leah mutters, fiddling restlessly with the strap on her lifejacket. “Especially today. Did you take out an insurance policy on me? You did, didn’t you? If anything happens to me, I’m coming back to haunt you every single day of your life!”
I can’t help but laugh at her overdramatic theatrics. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were afraid of heights. Really, I didn’t.”
“It’s not heights I’m afraid of,” she objects snarkily. “It’s freefalling eight hundred feet into shark infested waters!”
“Shark infested? Oh, come on! Don’t you think you’re exaggerating just a tiny little bit?”
The first mate, a friendly fellow with dreadlocks down to his waist and a Jamaican accent that may or may not be authentic, grins as he tightens the harness belt around her lifejacket. “We not gonna let you fall, pretty lady. Dat be bad for business, you know?”
Not authentic, I decide. Or if it is, it’s probably embellished for the tourists.
She smiles at him tentatively. “You do check your equipment on a regular basis, right?”
“Of course!” he teases her with a sly wink. “Every few years, every’ting here get an inspection whether it be needin’ it or not.”
I try not to laugh, but…come on.
“Men,” she sighs, rolling her eyes.
Chuckling, he reassures her with, “Nobody fallen or been eaten up by da sharks yet. We not gonna let dat happen. You in safe hands, pretty lady, I give you my word. Captain and I, we both be Coast Guard trained. Now listen, you have a seat on your bottom for me, right here on da platform. I gonna clip you to da chute, see? You take off from here, towline bring you right back here when you done. We do all da work, all you gotta do is relax and enjoy da ride. Sound good?”
“Sure. Sounds good.” She doesn’t quite sound as if she means it, though. This is confirmed when she leans her head closer to mine and whispers, “Remind me again why we’re doing
this?”
I cup her chin in my hand and look straight into her wide brown eyes. Wisps of soft blonde hair are blowing unchecked in the wind, framing her face with a sea of golden waves. Seems like every time I look at her, she’s somehow evolved to become more beautiful than the time before.
What is she so nervous about? Doesn’t she realize that I would never do anything to put her in harm’s way?
“It’s called defiance,” I gently explain. “A great big middle finger to the universe. If you want to beat this thing, the best thing to do is face it head on. No more just sitting back and accepting it. No more avoiding it. No more trying to hide. Do what you do best, wild thing. Face it, kick its ass and send it packing.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Positive. You’re going to love it. Trust me.” It’s a private charter – I wanted it to be just the two of us. We can stay up as long as we like, with no need to rush. I have no doubt that once she gets up there, she’ll never want to come back down.
The boat picks up speed, and her fingers tighten reflexively around the harness as we’re lifted off the platform and begin the slow, steady ascension. I watch her face, gauging her expression for the moment she realizes there’s nothing to fear. Her hands soon release their death grip on the harness and, just as I anticipated, she begins to smile.
“Okay, that wasn’t so bad,” she admits. “I didn’t expect it to be so smooth.”
“Told you. Nothing to it.”
“This is actually…pretty cool. It isn’t anything like I thought it would be.”
“See? I knew you’d love it.”
She peers down at the turquoise ocean below, and I search her eyes for any indication that our ascent is making her nervous. On the contrary, all I see there is fascination and wonder.
“Look how clear the water is,” she marvels as we soar gently upward.