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The Last Man She'd Marry

Page 3

by Helen R. Myers


  “Down, boy,” he muttered under his breath.

  Under no circumstances could he afford to reawaken his libido; he’d mandated a starvation diet for it. The rule was simple: no paycheck, no playtime. Not that Alyx would consider going out with him again.

  “‘What’s done is done.’”

  Quoting her, his words sounded more like a puzzle than a vow. But as he pulled up to the Sedona Sites ticket office, he couldn’t ignore a tightening in his abdomen that had nothing to do with any concern about Zane’s beloved aircraft’s air-worthiness and had everything to do with another truth.

  Alyx was too close for comfort even for someone with his discipline and willpower.

  Chapter Two

  As soon as Alyx entered Parke’s hillside house, her cousin’s greyhound, Grace, drew herself erect from the tile floor in the center of the entryway and stared at her with mournful eyes.

  Alyx stopped for a moment to eye the sad creature, as gorgeous a living sculpture as those her owner produced from rock, metal and clay. “C’mon, Gracie, I was as fast as I could be. You have no idea what I went through this morning.”

  Grace—a racing dog adopted to save her from euthanasia—looked away as though Alyx had insulted her intelligence.

  “Okay, your majesty, I know your ancestors wouldn’t even let me touch them unless I had a title, and I’m sorry that my absence left you worried about being abandoned again—not that you’ll admit it to lowly me. But if you’ll give me a moment to pour myself a glass of chardonnay, I’ll soak your teeth-cleaning bone in a ladle of your mom’s chicken stew. How about that?”

  Not waiting for an answer, Alyx eased off her sunglasses and visor and set them and her purse onto the hallway table on her way to the kitchen. Depositing her two bags from the grocery on a counter, she returned to the door of the garage to toe off her sneakers, massaging her shoulder along the way. She felt worse than when she’d entered the fitness center, but right now she had commitments to deal with.

  As promised, she got out the pot of chicken stew that was for Grace’s dinner and dropped the chew bone in there for a minute while pouring herself the cold wine from a bottle in the refrigerator. After a sip, she sighed and offered the dog the bone.

  “There you go. Now behave and don’t start wailing and otherwise telling me about your rough morning. Mine was worse and I need to make a couple of calls without sound effects.”

  Wiping her wet hand on a damp paper towel, she took another soothing taste of the wine. Then Alyx flipped open her cell phone and located E. D. Martel’s number in the directory. Martel-Justiss now, she thought with a fatalistic sigh. Her client-turned-dear-friend had not only married Judge Dylan Justiss, but had recently given birth to a third child, Dylan’s first, and his namesake. Alyx felt like an amoeba compared to that woman and her courage.

  At the sound of E.D.’s voice, she drawled, “How’s the mother of the judiciary’s next sage?”

  “Hey—I’ve been wanting to call you, but have tried to respect your space. How’s it going?” Eva Danielle’s tone reverberated with genuine delight. “I expected you to live up to your warning that you’d be out of touch and resigned myself to weeks of worry.”

  That was one of the many things that made her want to keep E.D. in her life. She might not be comfortable with Alyx’s decisions, but she did her best to honor them. “I appreciate that,” she told her. “And I’d intended to stay incommunicado, but you know life—make a plan and watch it get a slap shot into the stratosphere.”

  “Interesting image. You aren’t dating a hockey player, are you?”

  “Very funny,” Alyx replied. “You know I’m not in any shape even to think of such a thing.”

  “You’re a stunner, Alyx. You were before and you still are. My heart aches for what happened to you, and for your suffering. Just know I want to help in any way I can.”

  Well, then, Alyx thought, here was the perfect opening. She challenged, “Are you aware that Jonas is here?”

  “What? Of course not! Good grief—how did that happen? You mean there there? Sedona?”

  “Our paths crossed and I have no idea how that happened.” Alyx filled her in on their stressful and unexpected meeting. “I’m sorry to confess that at first I thought maybe you and your deceptively sweet husband had something to do with this,” she said at the conclusion of her recount.

  E.D. didn’t waste a second making a few points. “Did you not threaten to leave without telling me a word for fear of that concern? Why then would I break my word to you?”

  “Because you have a soft spot for him and he’s one of your husband’s most trusted friends.”

  “All true to a point. However, there are boundaries and exceptions to things like that and you know it. Neither of us believes in unconditional love, and a confidence is a confidence.” E.D. uttered a groan. “I’m sorry you were caught off guard, Alyx, but unless you told someone else, this has to be one of those inexplicable mysteries.”

  “Destiny? You know my opinion of that.”

  “Yes, but your perspective is especially vulnerable to emotional influences right now,” E.D. said, her tone soothing. “You’re still recovering from trauma.”

  It amazed Alyx that her litigator friend had ever won any case; she was a softy through and through. Smiling despite herself, she asked, “How’s Judge Junior?”

  E.D. chuckled. “He’s like his daddy, too good to be true.”

  “The next sound you hear may be me snoring.”

  “Oh, Alyx. I do wish you’d put some body butter on that thick hide of yours and let yourself see what miracles are out there.”

  “Try to resist suggesting that I adopt, let alone get pregnant.”

  “I can’t deny I’ve thought about how good that would be for you.”

  Alyx glanced over at Grace and rolled her eyes. “Lose my phone number. Now!”

  E.D. chuckled. “Who else are you going to call to snoop for you?”

  She knew that was a joke, but as usual her mind went into overdrive and she immediately thought of P.I.s’ phone numbers, only to reject the idea. Jonas would spot the guy in minutes. None of that would happen—crazy she wasn’t, even if she was tempted—but it reminded her of how, as a child, she’d been constantly rebuked for “living too much in her head,” as her teachers and mother had put it. For once she had to agree with them.

  “How are the older kids?” she asked, again hoping to veer their conversation away from her.

  “Well, as I hold my breath, Dani is pulling a four-point-zero average at college, Mac hasn’t suffered a bad asthma attack in a couple of months, and the baby screams with delight the moment either of them walk through the door. They can’t help but drop that entire humiliated-teen act pretending Dylan and I are too old for more children.”

  “Be careful or one of the TV networks will be courting you to be the next big thing—unreality.”

  “I only shared because you asked.”

  The gentle rebuke was nothing less than Alyx deserved. “Sorry. I really am happy for you.” More like relieved that Dani had straightened out and ceased her declared war on her mother and Dylan. Alyx couldn’t imagine herself in such a relationship minefield again, loving as her friend’s seemed to have become. “You know my dilemma. My work only shows me the failures in relationships—manufactured or medical—so what you’re describing sounds like fiction on the cable channels or the Internet dating sites.”

  “A few years ago, I would have high-fived you on that. You just keep getting well.”

  “I want to.” Her wording surprised her. Until a few days ago, she couldn’t even swear to that. “Um…then you haven’t had contact with Jonas?”

  “Absolutely not. In fact, come to think of it…he hadn’t answered Dylan’s last few calls or e-mails.”

  “He’s pretty cryptic about why he’s here, too. He says it’s to help a friend who runs a sky-tour business. I had no idea that he was a pilot.”

  “That makes two of
us.”

  Could that be? Alyx thought, frowning. “But I thought for sure—”

  “Until my situation, I didn’t know anyone in Dylan’s circle.”

  Alyx barely won over the impulse to take another sip of her wine. She’d believed the two men so close and had suspected this incident was common knowledge by now between husband and wife. On the other hand, she appreciated that she could count on E.D. to keep confidences, as Dylan obviously did.

  “There you go thinking again,” E.D. said, breaking into her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry. I’m nowhere close to my best form and this has…well, it’s thrown me.”

  “Understandable. Now quit beating around the bush and talk to me.”

  Alyx didn’t think she had a choice—she had to get feedback from someone—and gave E.D. a summary of her experiences so far. “Now tell me that I’m overreacting,” she said at the end.

  “For good reason, considering what you’ve endured. No one, particularly Jonas, can fault you for feeling anything else but terror at that fool’s flagrant advances or for being gun-shy at seeing someone you believed should be on the other side of the continent.”

  “Yes, but afterward I pushed Jonas away. That’s one person I should have trusted—forget the personal stuff.” Groaning as her mind churned with hindsight regret, she massaged her aching neck. “It’s just that he appeared out of nowhere. Why would he be in the grocery store if he was due at work?”

  “Well, my guess is that he saw you on the road—or thought he did—followed you into the market, realized it was you, and was trying to figure out why and what he felt about that. Then the incident occurred and the decision was a moot point.”

  “More stuff that happens in contrived sitcoms, not in real life.”

  “Tell that to the woman in Belgium who was putting away leftovers for a gentleman friend and found the bodies of his supposedly estranged wife and her son in his cellar freezer.”

  “What?” Grimacing, Alyx saw that Grace was tilting her head at the door. Alyx quickly crossed to it, tested the lock, and peered through the security hole. “Don’t add to my imagination, please. It’s in overdrive as it is.”

  “Sorry. Tell me what else he said. He had to have asked questions. Dylan said he was pretty crushed when you sent him away, and I can’t imagine the shock this was for you to see him in a place where you expect to know only your cousin.”

  Yes, a shock, but also a relief because he had rescued her, Alyx thought with growing guilt. “He wanted an explanation as to why I shut him out. I never gave him one. Did he tell Dylan that?”

  “Dylan shared that he sounded frustrated, even hurt a few times, but aside from that, I don’t know. He may have committed Dylan to a promise of secrecy, too. You know I won’t challenge that without good cause. I feel Dylan would have shared with me if he could.”

  That said a good deal about his character. Again. As for her own track record with men, Alyx didn’t think there was the equivalent of an honorable Dylan among them—unless Jonas could be the exception to the rule? That was probably wishful thinking on her part. Her father had been a dictator, just a grade above bully, and her relationships with men had given her a master’s degree in understanding that her primary attraction for most beaus courting her as she grew up were her money, pedigree and contacts. While Jonas hadn’t seemed a cookie-cutter replica, their time together had been too short to notice if there was any lasting there there.

  “You’re being ultraquiet,” E.D. said.

  “I’m remembering moments with Jonas.”

  “Do you need me to call 911 for a tow to get your mind out of the gutter?” E.D. asked, a smile creeping into her voice.

  “Those days are over.”

  “Alyx, don’t talk like that. You’re way too young to let even this nightmare deny you the kind of relationship and love I believe is out there for you.”

  Wanting the comfort of her privacy, Alyx turned professionally cool. “You’ll forget I called?”

  E.D. made a soft sound of regret. “I really am glad you did. Please. Ring me again. I’m sorry I was of no help, but I am trying…and wanting you to heal.”

  Hesitating, Alyx stared back at Grace, who’d abandoned the front door to stand before her. No doubt she found her tone discomforting, or wanted her mistress, or would like the front door open to just escape. “You were more help than you know,” she told E.D., managing to sound almost tender. “I’m sorry for being such a—anyway, give that luscious baby a kiss for me.”

  “How sweet. I’ll give him two. Call me anytime.”

  Once Alyx heard E.D. disconnect, she shut off her phone, immediately diving into introspection. Contrary to what she’d said, she hadn’t really learned anything she didn’t already know, and she’d been trained by the best to be skeptical of support or flattery.

  You learned that she and Dylan thought Jonas had been sincerely disappointed in being rejected.

  It was hopeless—and perfect. Confirmation that she was a hard-hearted, cold witch. Hurrah, she thought grimly. She hadn’t lost her edge one iota, bad news for the Realtor who wanted to sell her Austin house, but terrific for her Texas clients, who wanted blood from estranged spouses; they, at least, would be popping corks when they heard that reassuring news.

  Seeing Grace shift on her plainly stiff legs, Alyx put a quick end to the self-deprecation. “Gracie, if I look half that bad when I wrangle myself off the machines at the health club, you have permission to bite me if I accidentally bump into you or stroke you too hard. Now what do you say we get your stiff-joint medicine? That’s about all I know for wrecks like us, until your mommy checks in to suggest something more.”

  At the sound of Mommy Grace started whining.

  “Oh, jeez.” Alyx leaned over to gently stroke the dog. “I’m sorry, Grace. I’m sorry. I know I’m no replacement by a long shot, but I’m trying—I’ll try to do better, okay?”

  The greyhound stepped closer to rest against her and sighed.

  It was too ridiculous to be believable, but Alyx closed her eyes. History had shown her that there were few perfect moments in life, yet this sure felt like one of them. Hoping she could mimic that heartfelt sound, Alyx sighed, too.

  Chapter Three

  Jonas repressed a surge of humiliation as he dialed Dylan Justiss’s private cell phone number, but he managed to hold on until he heard his old friend’s rebuke.

  “About time.”

  “Figured you’d deleted me from your address book by now,” Jonas replied with equal aplomb. His, however, was mostly bravado.

  “You know better than that.”

  “Yeah, sure. Listen, I’m sorry for the unanswered calls.”

  “What ignored calls?”

  That had Jonas’s mouth corners curling downward. He knew that Dylan was both letting him off the hook and making sure Jonas understood that he’d slipped badly with their friendship. At the time, he’d felt there was no recourse, and yet, as days slipped into weeks, and weeks into months, he knew he deserved whatever Dylan wanted to say.

  “I’m sure there’s an appropriate quote about pride to mouth right now, but I can’t remember it, and you don’t deserve to suffer through it.”

  “Stuff the eloquence, Hunter. You were never good at it.”

  That won a choked laugh from Jonas. “That might finally be sinking in. Thanks for sticking in there.”

  “Well, you know how we analytical types are, I needed to know the answer to the riddle. What happened and how are you?”

  “You haven’t talked to E.D. this afternoon?” Jonas countered.

  “Should I have?”

  “I thought maybe…never mind.”

  “Don’t start that. What’s up?”

  Jonas drew a deep breath. He was sure Alyx had run straight home and had called E.D. to vent. Didn’t all women do that? His ex sure had. Claudia would call her mother and then everyone else in the family tree down to second cousins—another reason to avoid getting involv
ed with southern belles. For their part, Alyx and E.D. had grown particularly close during E.D.’s divorce, and Alyx had said that while the svelte, blond DA had a disgusting weakness for Dylan, she was one of the few people she could trust with a secret. He’d still had his doubts.

  “I ran into Alyx,” he muttered.

  “Is that so? Alyx is out of town, maybe out of state from what I can discern from E.D.’s cryptic comments.”

  “Sedona, Arizona, to be exact.”

  “Has the divorce rate suddenly skyrocketed there?”

  He had to know that she wasn’t yet able to resume her usual work schedule. “I don’t know what’s going on, all I know is that it’s just too suspicious to have both of us decide to take leave from our jobs in separate parts of the country and end up in the same place.”

  “What’s your reason?”

  “My original flight instructor busted his leg. These days he runs an air-tours business and asked if I could cover for him for a few weeks. He’s ex-FBI, too. Back in my mustang days, his was, more or less, the last push I needed to go with the Bureau.”

  “Good grief, are you saying he crashed and you’re now in those hot-air contraptions?”

  “Much better. I’m flying his First World War facsimile biplanes.”

  Dylan uttered something indistinguishable. “You’re worse than certifiable. I hope you at least know that?”

  “They’re the modern Waco rendition. It’s a little eccentric, I’ll admit, but not as bad as you think. No acrobatics involved, just smooth, wide turns and gentle landings. Everything to assist adventurous tourists in procuring the optimum photographs to bring them back for another visit.”

  “The question is, can you bring yourself back to earth in one piece? I know a little about the terrain over there. It could get pretty wild trying to find a suitable landing spot on short notice.”

  The topography was a challenge; nevertheless, the highways were excellent and certainly not as heavy with traffic as in metropolitan areas. This was an experience Jonas was glad not to have missed out on.

 

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