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He grinned, wishing he could. Indignant Ava was damn cute.
When the photographer was finished with them, Razor thought about apologizing to her, but she and the rest of the bridesmaids had mysteriously disappeared in a flash.
“I’m tellin’ you,” said Gunner. “You gotta say no.”
He felt the same pang he had earlier, hating the idea of anyone else protecting Ava, unless it was a woman. Now, there was an idea. Maybe they could bring Alegria in. She was one of their pilots, but Razor knew she had asset protection experience. He’d make the suggestion when they met with Striker later.
“Wanna switch?” Gunner asked when they approached the head table.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re seated between the twins, and I’m between the other two. We could switch, and then you won’t embarrass yourself, looking like you want Ava for lunch instead of whatever crappy wedding food they serve.”
“You don’t think Quinn would mind?”
“Hell, no. Look at her. You think she has anything on her mind besides making babies with Eighty-eight?”
“You talk too much. Have you always been this way? Jesus, just shut up.”
Gunner walked away, laughing, and Razor watched as he switched the place cards. Something in his gut told him that was going to come back to bite him in the ass.
—:—
“Hey, Daddy,” Ava said, walking up to her father and his latest wife.
“You and your sister look so beautiful,” he said, tears in his eyes.
Her father had always been emotional, even more so than her mother, and especially with his two girls.
Sending Aine and her to boarding school was something she knew he regretted, but what option had there been? He traveled at least seventy-five percent of the time, while their mother spent a proportionately equal amount of time drunk off her ass.
“Can you sit with us for a minute?”
“Sure,” she said when her father pulled out the chair next to him for her instead of his wife, who looked like she’d just eaten a lemon.
“I’ll just be here a minute,” Ava said, turning to the woman who couldn’t be as old as she and Aine were, and who didn’t even acknowledge that she’d been spoken too.
“When are you coming home?” her father asked.
“Aine and I were talking about staying in California for another week or two. We really haven’t spent much time here.”
Her father nodded his head and moved his finger back and forth over his upper and lower lips like he did when he was deep in thought.
“What about you? Are you heading home tomorrow?” she asked.
“Tonight, actually,” he answered, kissing her forehead. “We’re taking the red-eye.”
Her father motioned to the head table, where it looked like the other bridesmaids and groomsmen were taking their seats.
“You should run along now,” he said.
“Right.” Ava leaned down and kissed his cheek.
“Save me a dance,” her father said as she walked away.
Ava was one of the last to arrive at the table, other than Quinn and Mercer, thankfully, but was confused as to where she was supposed to sit. The only empty seat, other than the bride’s and groom’s, was between Mercer’s two brothers. She’d checked the table earlier, and Tabon’s place card had been next to hers. Instead, he was sitting on the opposite side, between Penelope and Tara. Evidently, he’d switched his seat.
With a smile plastered on her face to mask her hurt, Ava struck up a conversation with Mercer’s two bell-pepper brothers and tried to forget Tabon Sharp existed.
