Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Izzy and I stood there, the beat pounding all around us, and stared at each other.
“You want to grab a drink?” I asked, suddenly remembering that she’d been at the bar for a reason.
She nodded, and we both turned back to the bar, our arms brushing as I lifted my right hand to flag the bartender. Fuck, it was like I was sixteen again—that was how quickly that innocent touch went straight through me.
“You’re not drinking either?” she asked after I’d paid for our sodas.
“I’ve already had a couple.” I shrugged. There was no chance I was going to dull a single second of seeing her again. “Want to grab a table outside?”
“Absolutely.”
We made our way through the bar crowd and onto the beachfront patio, where we scored one of the two-seater high-tops at the edge.
Then we stared at each other again, this time in the relative quiet.
“It’s nice out here,” she said.
“You look good,” I said simultaneously.
We both smiled.
“Thanks, but it’s probably just the fact that I’m not bleeding out internally.” She shrugged playfully.
“You were looking a little pale there for a minute.” I flashed a smile and took a sip of my Coke.
“I don’t remember anything after getting to the edge of the river,” she said quietly, wiping the condensation from her glass.
“But . . .” My brow furrowed. “You swore your eternal love and devotion to me. You promised we’d have three kids and everything.” Shit, it was hard to keep a straight face.
She didn’t even try, her eyes dancing in the soft outdoor lighting. “Very funny.”
I took a deep breath, sorting through my memories of that day. This was all so incredibly surreal. “We got you to a tree so you could sit down,” I began, and then I told her everything I could remember.
“You saved my life,” she said when I got to the part about the ambulance.
“Nah. Technically that was the paramedics.”
“There you are!” Fitz called out, coming across the patio. “You disappeared.” He glanced at Izzy’s shirt. “With a member of the bridal party, I see.”
“Izzy, this is Fitz.” I took a drink.
Izzy stuck her hand out, and Fitz shook it. “Hi, Fitz. I’m Isabeau Astor. I’m Nate’s wife.”
I slammed my hand over my mouth to keep from spitting Coke across the table.
“His wife?” Fitz raised his brows at me. “Do Justin and Julian know about this, seeing as they’re his best friends?”
Rowell and Torres definitely didn’t know I’d lied my way into an ambulance for a woman.
“According to my medical records,” Izzy said with a laugh that woke up every emotion in my body, even the ones I’d done my best to shut off when we’d deployed.
Somehow, I managed to swallow without making an ass out of myself. “I thought you said you didn’t remember anything.”
“My sister told me.” She leaned back in her seat.
“Your sister had to tell you that you were married?” Fitz asked, leaning his elbows on the table. “Please, do go on. Phelan over here tells us next to nothing about himself.”
“I lied to the paramedics so I could get into the ambulance with her,” I explained.
“After the crash,” Izzy finished. “We were sitting next to each other when the plane went down.”
Fitz’s head whipped in my direction. “You were in a fucking plane crash?”
I shrugged.
“How did you think he got . . .” Izzy leaned over the table, reaching for my hat, and I dipped my head so she could take it. She removed my hat with one hand and pushed the short strands of my hair up with the other, no doubt showing Fitz the scar he’d seen multiple times over the last two years. “That? I knew you’d have a scar!”
“Eleven stitches,” I told her.
“You got that scar in a plane crash?” Fitz’s voice cracked.
“Yep,” Izzy said, putting my hat back before sitting down.
“I thought we were friends!” He clutched his chest.
“We are,” I assured him.
“Friends tell friends when they’ve been in plane crashes,” he lectured.
“Torres knows.” I shrugged again.
“Okay, now that just hurts.” He got all melodramatic, staggering like I’d wounded him. “You told Torres, but not the rest of us?”
“Maybe I was saving the story.”
“For what? This deployment instead of the last one?”
“This deployment?” Izzy asked, and the worry in her eyes made my chest clench. No one worried about me except my mom.
The mood immediately changed.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “We’re leaving soon.”
“When?” Two little lines appeared between her brows.
“Really soon.” The day after tomorrow, but that wasn’t public knowledge.
Fitz cleared his throat. “Well, I’m going to head back inside so I can watch Rowell beat the shit out of Torres on the table. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Phelan.”
“Technically, he’s Mr. Astor,” she corrected him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Not surprised. My man’s a good guy. Always been a true feminist.” Fitz clapped me on the shoulder and headed inside.