“That means a lot,” Dave said. “It really does. But...”
“Yeah, I know,” Rio nodded as they finally reached the bar. “It still sucks. What are you having?”
“A beer,” Dave said. “No glass.”
“Make it two.” Thank god. What Luc would do would be to taste all of the varieties of red wine—provided they were from California—and choose the meatiest, but Rio had the kind of thirst that only hops and barley could sate. And since Dave was beering it, he could set aside his WWLD doctrine in this particular instance. Double thumbs up that Dave was okay with drinking right from the bottle.
Rio took a long slug as they moved away from the bar. Dave seemed to think their conversation was over, but Rio wasn’t done. “Lookit, Davy—” he purposely used his friend’s childhood nickname again “—I know it’s not the same. I mean, SEAL Teams are forever, sure, but... it’s different, I know it is. It must feel like you’ve lost a vital piece of your childhood—and you’ve already got a gaping hole back there. But here’s the thing. You don’t need the Toxic Biscuit to keep Casey in your life. I mean, she followed me right into the men’s head, no hesitation. That is not a family member who’s gonna just let you go without a fight. But you gotta start by telling her the truth—that it’s a fantasy, the perfect relationship she thinks you and Jon had going on for all those years. Because if you don’t tell her the ugly details...? She’s gonna keep pushing for that reconciliation.”
“I know,” Dave said. “I just... She loves him, too.”
“I know I just met her, but I cannot believe that she’s ever gonna love him any less,” Rio told his friend.
And armed with the truth, Casey would finally be able to love her brother better.
Chapter Four
Luc spent the entire reception on high alert.
He’d made it pretty obvious earlier—even before meeting him—that he loathed Jon. Jealousy surely played into it. Who wouldn’t be jealous, at least a little, of an ex who had a ten-year history with their new boyfriend?
But throughout the entire meal, Luc managed to hide his dislike. He remained polite and even laid-back, seemingly relaxed with a near-constant smile appropriate for a wedding reception. But his brown eyes remained watchful.
Casey found herself watching him not just keeping a close eye on Jon, but also highly attuned to Dave, who sat beside him.
“You okay?” He’d leaned in close to Dave to ask that more than once. His voice had been too low for her to hear over the music that was playing. But the words were unmistakable, even for someone as lip-reading challenged as she was.
Dave nodded his affirmative, meeting Luc’s eyes and smiling ruefully—as if they were sharing a secret or a private joke. Of course they were. They were so obviously in tune with each other. Casey glanced over at her brother, who was intently watching the party-goers out on the dance floor.
“You wanna...?” she asked him, but he shook his head no.
Dave, on the other hand, from across the table, said, “I do.” He stood up, holding out his hand for her, so with one furtive glance from Jon to Luc and back, she stood too, and took Dave’s hand.
He was a little damp—unusual for Dave who was generally unrufflable.
As he pulled her toward the dance floor, she leaned in close to ask, “Is it okay to leave them alone?” Although Luc and Jon weren’t technically alone—there were two other couples at their table—provided they, too, didn’t get up to dance. “Ish?” she added.
“Luc’s not gonna start anything,” Dave informed her.
Yeah, well, Jon might. And Dave knew that. No need to speak the words aloud. Casey just looked at him.
“He can handle Jon,” Dave’s smile broadened. “He’ll probably even enjoy it.”
“Are you happy?” The question just came out of her mouth, unchecked.
Something shifted slightly in Dave’s eyes. “No,” he admitted with his usual candor. “But I’m getting there.”
As Rio pushed back his chair, intending to take this opportunity to visit the head, Lois and Greg, and Stacey and Claire—the other couples who were seated with them at table five—all got up to dance, too. He hesitated, not yet standing but no longer quite sitting either, and looked up to find H-less Jon watching him with a very small, very knowing smile slightly twisting his lips.
Jon was a good-looking man—a taller, male version of Casey. He had similar dark brown eyes set in a more angular, masculine face. His hair was brown, but a shade somewhere between Rio’s and Dave’s. He was a little too pretty and too carefully dressed. In short, he looked kinda like Rio did today, which was pretty damn gay, which Jon actually was, so... mission accomplished.
“A conundrum,” Jon said to Rio. “What to do? If you stick around, you’ll be forced to make small talk with Davy’s asshole-of-an-ex. If you leave, said asshole might take the opportunity to drink everyone’s wine or, ooh, is that a mojito that Lois was drinking...? It’s been months since I’ve had one of those.”
Rio laughed as he sat more fully on his chair—intentionally not moving it closer to the table, but letting himself relax enough to lean back. Get comfortable. “Or we could skip the small talk entirely. You’re funny. I mean, too soon, for sure, but... I can see the appeal.”
Jon’s mocking mask cracked as his surprise slipped through, so Rio pushed on. “It’s always terrifying to meet someone’s ex, isn’t it? Or from your point of view, their current, because it goes both ways. I mean, you gotta hope the guy’s not a complete idiot, because what does that say about you, am I right? And really, all I knew about you before this was that you can be cruel and selfish. But hey, apparently you know that about yourself, so that’s good—unless that asshole-of-an-ex thing was meant as more of a joke than an honest self-assessment.”
From across the table, Jon’s gaze shifted—just for a moment—to the perspiring glass that held that mojito. And if that was intentional—and meant to make Rio feel sorry for Jon, or at least to acknowledge his current ongoing struggles with his addictions—well, too bad, asshole, it didn’t work.
