“Oh, you think I should, huh? Because you magically know what’s best for me, is that it?”
“You said so yourself. You need space.” He shrugged. “Well, you ain’t gonna get it here, honey. You’ll be alone at that hotel for an hour, two hours tops, and then your parents will weasel the location out of you and swoop in with the sympathy parade.” When she didn’t answer, he shot her a pointed look. “You know I’m right.”
“Maybe, but—”
“And I know your best friend is in South America—”
“Sierra Leone—”
“—which means you can’t cry on her shoulder, so—”
Now she was the one interrupting him. “So you want me to cry on your shoulder? No thanks, pal.”
As the gate for the Coast Guard station came into view, Dylan abruptly pulled over to the side of the road.
“What now?” Claire demanded angrily. “Are you kicking me out of the car?”
“What the hell are you talking about? Why would I—” He stopped talking and sucked in a calming breath. How did this woman always manage to rile him up?
He exhaled in a measured pace. “Look, you have three options.”
“Oh really?”
Her mocking tone brought another rush of irritation, which he forced himself to ignore. Hell, she was allowed to be a bitch today. Getting ditched on her wedding day definitely gave her a free pass.
“Option one,” he announced. “You go to a hotel and prepare yourself for the sympathy parade.”
Unhappiness washed over Claire’s face.
“Option two, you go home and get the confrontation with Chris out of the way.”
Her delicate jaw tensed.
“Option three, you hop on the chopper with me, crash at my place for a day or two, and when you feel up to dealing with all this, you come home.”
Your place?
The little voice gave him pause. Shit, technically he ought to be consulting his roommate before he—
Roommate? the voice interrupted, sarcastic now.
He fought a spark of aggravation. Okay, fine, Aidan Rhodes was much more than a roommate.
As Claire sat there in silence, visibly pondering the choices he’d given her, Dylan fished his cell phone out of his pocket.
He’d planned on shooting a discreet text Aidan’s way to let him know they might have some company, but Claire spoke up before he could.
“No. I don’t run away from my problems,” she said firmly. “Maybe that’s yours and Chris’s MO, but not mine.”
His nostrils flared at the accusation. “I don’t know where you’re getting your intel, honey, but I don’t run from my problems. Never have, never will.”
“Either way, I can’t just leave town. I’ll regroup for a couple of hours at the hotel, and then talk to Chris.”
As if on cue, Dylan’s phone buzzed in his hand.
Chris’s number flashed on the screen.
“Speak of the devil,” he told her.
The wounded look in her big brown eyes triggered the urge to pull her into his arms, but he pushed the crazy idea aside. He didn’t blame her for looking so hurt, though—Chris should be calling his bride right now, not his brother.
“What are you waiting for?” she muttered. “Answer it.”
Dylan raised the phone to his ear, but he didn’t greet his brother with even an ounce of warmth. “What do you want?”
There was a pause, followed by a remorseful sigh. “You’re angry.”
“No fucking kidding.”
“Dylan…look, I know you’re pissed at me and I’m so sorry I ran away like that. I took the coward’s way out and I feel like a total ass, okay?”
“No, not okay. Nothing you did today was okay, Chris.”
Another breath filled the line. “I’m sorry. I really am. And I promise you I’m going to make this right. I’ll make it right with Claire, and with Mom, and the partners, and most of all, you. But first, I need you to do one more thing for me.”
Incredulity lodged in his throat. “Are you serious? After everything that went down today, you have the nerve to ask for another favor?”
Next to him, Claire made a harsh sound of disdain, and a quick glance at the passenger seat revealed she was eyeing him warily. Actually, no, she was eyeing his phone. The way she’d curled her hands into fists and pressed them on her thighs told Dylan she was trying to stop herself from grabbing the cell out of his hand.
And speaking of thighs…he couldn’t help but notice that her dress had ridden up, revealing her smooth, pale skin that he couldn’t seem to quit staring at…
Disgusted with himself, he yanked his gaze off those firm thighs, hoping she hadn’t noticed him checking out her legs.
“I just need you to pass along a message,” Chris pleaded in his ear.
“To who?” Dylan said suspiciously.
“Claire.”
He almost blurted out that Claire was sitting right next to him, but he swallowed the confession. He got the feeling Chris might panic and hang up if he knew she was there.
“What’s the message?” he asked in a curt voice.