Duty Free

Chapter 1

His flight was canceled and the car rental at the small airport in Charleston, West Virginia had rented out the few cars equipped to safely drive in a snowstorm. What else could go wrong?

Anthony Colbert Jones, or Colby to his friends and family, had been driving for the past five hours, cramped in a white subcompact with a radio that got more static than music.

He released a deep breath, relieved to finally be able to pick up speed after crawling past two cars and a pickup truck that looked like bumper cars at the fair. "Good thing that’s not you in the snow, he told the small car. A few hours in this storm and the wrecker would think you were just a bump in the road or maybe a ski mogul," he said, chuckling as he pushed the radio’s buttons again, looking for a country western station.

He finally gave up and pushed the off button. Silence surrounded him, but it was a welcomed relief. Bessie, he told the car, I’m proud of you for making it through this storm. I couldn’t have made it without you. He chuckled, figuring it was like his mother used to tell him. It’s always better to laugh when things don’t go your way than to get upset since upset won’t change anything.

He reached up to wipe at the fogged window, thankful that the windshield wipers had managed to keep the accumulating snow off the glass. Now that he could see better, his thoughts returned to his situation. His mother was right. There was nothing he could do to change the speed of the traffic on the snow-slick roads, but at this rate, there was no doubt that he’d be late to his best friend’s wedding rehearsal. He sobered quickly at the thought of being the reason for any delays, slapping his palm on the steering wheel when the crawl came to a dead stop.

Come on, he moaned, glancing toward the grayish-white sky, give me a break, here. He shoved a hand across the top of his thick, dark crew-cut and slouched further into the bucket seat, drumming his fingers on his right thigh as he waited for traffic to move again.

The stalled traffic reminded him of his dilemma. He was at a crossroad in his life, but the more he weighed the pros and cons, the more jumbled his thoughts became. He needed to make a decision and one of the two best sources of feedback was getting married and therefore off-limits to take on anyone else’s problems.

`Bout time, he murmured when the red taillights in front of him were replaced by five mile-per-hour progress. Come on, baby girl. Just one more exit. He glanced again at the directions he’d written on the back of an envelope earlier that morning when talking to Mason while he stood in the deadlocked terminal. If his guess was right, he was less than two miles from the church, but he was already five minutes late. He could only hope that the surface streets were plowed and moving faster than the freeway.

Five minutes late might as well be an hour when he was the one holding up the show. At least it’s the practice and not the real thing, he said aloud, reaching out to wipe the windshield that was fogging up…again. If I held the wedding up, Mason would draw and quarter me, he said with a smirk. He couldn’t wait to see the guys again. He’d missed them more than he expected when he shipped out to Afghanistan a year earlier.

His smile dimmed as the past ten years flashed through his mind. He was the last bachelor standing, but only because Charlene decided not to wait for him to get home from his first overseas tour. How could he have missed the signs that she was restless …and not missing him as much as he missed her? Forget it, he ordered himself in a terse whisper. I need to be in a good mood this weekend.

His tires crunched on the snow, compacting it as he rolled to a stop at the foot of the exit and flipped on his turn indicator. All for one and one for all, he announced, jabbing his fist in the air as if a sword were being raised in a pledge. That was what he and his two buddies vowed when they graduated from flight school eight years earlier.

When the light changed, he made the turn and joined the flow of early evening commuters. Yeah, this is definitely an improvement over the highway. He was smiling again as he allowed his mind to wander back to the past.

The three of them had been young and embarking on careers that seemed more of an adventure than a job. In his twenties, the sky was his playground, the jet was his toy and everyday was a thrill if he could climb behind the controls of that jet and fly at mach two with his hair blazing. At least that part hadn’t changed over the years.

He rolled through the next intersection under a yellow light, excited to see the church steeple just over a block away. Thank you! He was late, but at least he’d arrived. He refused to dampen his joy by looking at his watch again.

He couldn’t wait to see Dale and Mason. Just because he met Dale first and then was introduced to Mason, the three had quickly become a close-knit study and support team. He remembered them joking about the benefits of being bachelors, but he had been the first to marry, or rather the first to fall prey to a woman looking for a husband in uniform. He frowned. And the first to get a divorce, he muttered. He shook his head as he discarded the thought of Charlene--again.

He hadn’t been sure what to think of the situation when Dale fell under Alyson’s spell, but now their third child was on the way and they appeared very happy. Lord, spare me, he muttered as he turned in to the parking lot. He heaved a sigh of relief once he maneuvered the small car into an open slot, and jammed the gearshift into park.

On the right was a black Jeep and on the left was a gray Honda Accord. He shook his head. Sad. His metallic-silver Mustang was waiting for him back home and he couldn’t wait for spring so he could take the top down and cruise. He hoped his father had already made the arrangements to have it shipped to his new assignment in Texas so he could enjoy it down there.

That made him smile, but right now, he was in Virginia to celebrate Mason’s marriage to his physical therapist, Victoria. Tomorrow afternoon, the second Musketeer will have a ring on his finger and be dancing to a lady’s tune, he said with another sigh. Good luck to them both, but that’s not for me. He unfolded from the low-riding car, stood for a moment to bend each way to stretch out his back and then slammed the door.

While overseas, his body had gotten used to the heat, but a broad smile transformed his face as he tilted his head back and let the snow settle on his warm skin. This is perfect. I’ll take the snow over the sand any day of the week.

When the snow melted and started to run down his neck, he hunkered his chin down to his chest, pulled the collar of his parka close and trudged through the storm toward the front steps. No, Lord, he said, momentarily raising his eyes toward the sky, instead of another woman, I’m holding out for a cabin in the woods and a good hunting dog.

****

Dianna Thompson watched her son stand at the front of the church and toss the ring-pillow in the air, catch it and then toss it again. Her frown deepened, knowing she would have to speak with him, again, about how he should behave during the wedding tomorrow. She knew it was difficult at six to stand still for any length of time, but she also knew he could do it. Maybe she’d just have to find the right incentive.

The voice of the church wedding coordinator rang out in the almost empty church. Now, when the maid of honor is halfway down the aisle, you… the matronly woman glanced toward the back of the church and indicated Dianna, you will start. Now, don’t forget…

Dianna’s attention was jerked from what the coordinator was saying when the front doors of the church were opened and a blast of icy wind slammed into her back.

Whew! It’s a cold one out there! Colby bounded through the door, pulling it closed behind him before he shook the snow off his coat like a puppy slinging water from his fur. Better late than never, he joked, laughing when he glanced up and saw her standing on the other side of the foyer. Sorry. Bet that was cold, but … Instead of finishing the sentence, he shrugged and smiled at her.

He had a great smile, but she bet it was used to get the attention of any girl he wanted to spend the evening with. Is this your normal entrance? Loud and late?

The moment the words slipped out, she snapped her mouth shut and blinked. She couldn’t believe she had voiced her thoughts.

He stopped brushing snow from his shoulders and turned his head in her direction. His smile was already gone when he pinned her with twin lasers that shot heat to her cheeks. Just because he wasn’t her type, didn’t mean she should be rude. And she was going to be stuck at his side for the duration of the wedding and reception. She groaned inwardly. Sorry, she apologized.

Thanks. He stood staring at her, his voice stiff and formal. I need to apologize also, but to the bride and groom.

She felt horrible, but didn’t know what to say to repair the damage. They were at an impasse. The silence was shattered when a commanding voice called out from the sanctuary beyond the double doors. Both their heads jerked toward the sound.

Dianna!

Oh, goodness. Dianna whirled around and stepped up to the door. Sorry. I was distracted. Colby just arrived.

Bedlam reigned at the front of the church as Dale and Mason whooped out war cries and broke rank beside their ladies to charge up the center aisle.

Dianna stood back and watched three grown men plow into each other to become a solid mass of male bonding as arms flapped to pat each other on the back and everyone talking over the questions of the other.

Glad you’re here, man. How was the trip? You look great! Thanks. We were worried about you. How ya doing, man? Fine, fine.

The excitement of his arrival was calming down, but they were all still beaming like actors in a Colgate commercial. Dianna thought they were as bad as women, but decided it was best not to voice that observation out loud.

So, come on, man. I want to introduce you to my bride, Mason said, tossing an arm over Colby’s shoulders and guiding him down the aisle of the church, leaving Dale to trail on their heels.

Dianna watched while the latest arrival was introduced to Victoria, Alyson and the three children. She stood at the back of the church, her feet glued to the floor, unable to close the distance between her and the joyful group at the front. Despite the fact that her husband had been in the military, she felt like an outsider. She was a widow and that made her different. Besides, her husband had been a Corpsman, not a pilot.

She silently watched as Colby leaned forward to speak to Dale and Alyson’s four-year-old, Katie Ann, who ducked her head and nudged up against Alyson’s leg.

Then he turned toward her little Becky and Dianna started forward. Becky was shy, especially around men she didn’t know. She couldn’t hear what he said to the child, but she could see just enough of his face to know that he was smiling down at her and that Becky was smiling back. Her steps slowed.

When he turned to Tyler, he extended his hand. The boy stood straighter and reached out his own, shaking, and then smiling when Colby saluted him.

Dianna, hurry up. I want you to officially meet Colby.

Officially or unofficially, she pegged him as a playboy who liked attention and knew how to make an entrance. Well, of course, the weather was at fault in this case, but he just seemed to stand in the middle of everything and pull others to him like a magnet. Good thing she was immune.

By the time she made it to the end of the aisle, he had shed his bulky coat and stood before her in hiking boots, jeans and a plaid, flannel shirt. His eyes connected with hers when she stopped just behind her daughter and placed both hands on the child’s shoulders. She knew it probably looked as if she was using Becky as a shield, but he could think whatever he wanted.

A tight smile moved her lips slightly up at the corners, but he stood, staring at her while Mason made the introduction.

Dianna, this is our buddy, Colby Jones from West Virginia. Colby, this is Dianna Thompson, a friend of Alyson and Victoria. Oh, and you’ve already met the two rug rats that belong to her, he concluded, scuffing his knuckles on the top of the boy’s head to make him giggle and squirm.

Her hesitation was momentary, but it felt like a lifetime as she mentally told herself to do the polite thing and put her hand out. It irritated her when Colby moved first.

It’s my pleasure, he said, again flashing a high-wattage smile and displaying perfect teeth that any orthodontist would be proud of.

Likewise, she answered, allowing him to grasp her small hand in his as it swallowed her suddenly cold fingers against his wide palm.

Yeah, she works over at Mulligan’s Dental Group as an x-ray technician.

He nodded as he withdrew his hand, but she didn’t miss that his retreat was slow, taking several seconds before he allowed his arm to relax back at his side. During the entire motion, he never lost contact with her eyes, holding her like the victim of a magician’s spell. When his eyes shifted and he turned toward the bride-to-be, she shivered; blinking several times before she could focus her attention on what her daughter was saying.

Mommy, I’m hungry, she announced in a stage whisper.

We’ll soon be finished, she promised. It took every bit of her concentration to keep her eyes on the wedding coordinator and not allow herself to glance toward the man standing close enough for her to catch a hint of his musky aftershave.

Okay, everyone, why don’t we run through everything from the top so our last groomsman knows what to do tomorrow. Colby, the lady you’ll be partnering with is Miss Dianna here, so please, gentlemen, escort your ladies out and then back in, using proper rhythm and in the correct order. Okay?

Colby turned back to her, standing for several seconds before he extended his hand toward her, palm up. When she reached out and placed her hand on his, his fingers gently wrapped around hers as he bowed his head. She sucked in a breath and held it--sure he was going to kiss the