Lucas filled his plate. “Mind if I join you?”
“Please do,” Nate said. He gave him a quick, speculative glance that Lucas met with his best expressionless face, then Nate handed over the sections of the paper he’d finished. Nate checked the phone eight times in the ten minutes they sat in silence. Lucas counted, and wondered what was so interesting to the married man who wasn’t wearing his ring.
Adam arrived ten minutes early, making his way up from the small marina, past the pool, and into the lobby. “Sleep all right?” he said.
“Like a baby,” Nate said lightly.
“Fine,” Lucas said. “Ready for your last day as a single man?”
Adam huffed out a laugh. “Is it different? I’ve been with Ris for six months. I’ve loved her since we were teenagers. I’m hers. Forever. Vows won’t make any difference.”
Lucas arched an eyebrow at that rather flowery statement coming from the man who compared loyalty and fidelity to the unbreakable bonds forged in the Marine Corps, but he didn’t say anything. Adam was right. Vows didn’t make a difference. Vows didn’t sustain his marriage as it crumbled under the weight of devastation and failure. They didn’t sustain his marriage through a move from Denver to Walkers Ford. But a jaded divorced man didn’t say that kind of thing to a man so infatuated he lost his train of thought when his love walked into a room.
Beside them, Nate folded his paper precisely and got up for a second glass of orange juice. When he came back, he pulled printouts of route maps from under the newspaper. “When do you have to be back?”
“I need to pick up the rings before five tonight,” Adam said. “The ceremony’s at sunset. Get the rings, take a shower, be on the beach a few minutes early.”
Nate gave him a crooked smile. “Sounds easy enough.”
“Ris wanted a low-key beach wedding, and I wasn’t about to argue. The hotel arranges everything—chairs, flowers, the officiant, the cake. We bring in our own food. So it will be just like last night, except for the ceremony.”
“Must be nice,” Nate muttered under his breath. Lucas could only agree. His wedding had been fourteen months in the planning, a peak too high to sustain for the details of daily life after the honeymoon. He knew his marriage wouldn’t make it when his wife wanted to renew their vows two years after the first ceremony.
The rest of the group strolled in a couple of minutes before eight. Lucas found himself fading into the background as the Marines told stories, cracked jokes, and did the whole guy-bonding thing. They convoyed to the climbing shop and picked up their gear. The Marines were comfortable with ropes and rappelling, but none of them had his climbing experience. He quietly made suggestions and double-checked the gear before settling the bill with the shop’s owner.
“You’re good with them,” Nate said. Nate’s transition from Lieutenant to Mister hadn’t broken the chain of command. The younger guys all still looked to Nate and Adam for leadership, but both men openly deferred to Lucas’s greater experience.
“I used to lead hiking and climbing trips into the Rockies for the Boys and Girls Club,” Lucas said. “Fifteen kids from Denver’s inner city, me, and a program manager.”
Nate’s smile actually reached his eyes. “We’re in good hands, then.”
Mission Gorge was one of the largest urban parks in the country. They parked and hiked up the short trail to the Main Wall Center, where they split up into teams. In Lucas’s mind it was too early in the morning for anyone to start in on anything, but he’d forgotten exactly how one-track a twenty-one-year-old jacked-up kid’s mind was.
“You’ll be the one getting married soon.”
“No way, man,” Garrett said. “Getting married will interfere with my ability to fuck random women. Starting with the blonde back at the hotel. She’ll be an easy mark after the wedding. Sunset, wedding, a little alcohol . . .”
He didn’t see the gesture, but the tone of the whistles and catcalls told him enough. He wasn’t aware of thought or movement. One minute the conversation was background noise as he coiled ropes and checked harnesses, calmly dispassionate, totally under control. The next minute Bill Garrett was backed into the rock face with Lucas’s forearm at his throat. In the back of his mind, Lucas knew he looked like God’s own avenging angel because rather than fighting back, both of Bill’s hands were held up.
Total silence, other than the ground squirrels racing through the scrub brush surrounding the base of the rock. “Show the lady a little respect,” Lucas breathed.
“Yessir.”
It was a knee-jerk response trained into a kid by a drill sergeant, not a response to Lucas’s overpowering command presence. Lucas let his arm drop and took a step back, then another. Given a little space, Garrett eased away from the rock face, then stepped sideways to check on his gear. Conversation resumed, but quietly.