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As if she’d stuck a pin in his lungs, they deflated. Of course he should have had Tristan in mind all along. In fact, it wouldn’t be out of line to tip off his friend that he’d have a sure yes if he invited Aria on a road trip. “New Orleans. He always appreciates the chance to show off his French.”
Marchande’s language skills had gotten them into a fight more than once at train stations in France, so odds were good New Orleans wouldn’t be any better. Surely he’d be on his best behavior with a lady present though.
“Where do you think you’ll go next?” she asked, completely veering off topic again instead of following the breadcrumbs he’d laid for her toward Tristan.
Worse, that simple question had a lot of layers and he wished the answer could be both honest and easy. It was neither, but conversation went both ways, so he could at least give her a partial answer. “Wherever the next great adventure takes me.”
That was what should be on his mind. If he planned to unstick himself from his teammates, he had to embrace the positives in moving on.
Plus, there was Serenity’s prediction to consider and how she’d advised him on this very roof to slow down a bit. If he did that, her vision had promised he’d find love, not his mojo. A soul mate would only remind him of all the reasons he didn’t deserve something good and pure. Not yet anyway. Maybe one day. No reason to tempt fate by holing up in a town that wasn’t in the long-term cards for him.
“That sounds so lovely.” Aria sighed with a little lilt that hurt his chest.
Before he left, he’d do his best to help her get the attention of the man she wanted and then go behind the scenes to make sure Marchande knew how to make Aria happy, which Isaiah had just spent a very enjoyable evening learning about. It was the least he could do.
Seven
The next evening, Isaiah, Tristan and the rest of the guys trooped into Ruby’s for dinner like they always did, but this time, Aria had a heightened awareness that she’d spent the previous evening on a secret date-that-wasn’t-a-date with Isaiah. They’d connected in a way she’d never experienced. He’d made her feel important, special. Like they both belonged to something that no one else did.
When he smiled at her like he was recalling the nice things about it too, her skin prickled.
It shouldn’t feel so delicious and kind of naughty, should it?
“You gonna head over and see what the boys are in the mood for tonight?”
Aria blinked and focused on Ruby. Also known as her boss. Ruby cocked a brow and jerked her head toward the tableful of SEALs in the corner booth, her expression mildly inquisitive. In reality, that was the perpetually thirty-nine-year-old’s way of saying stop dilly-dallying and get back to work.
“Yes, ma’am. I am. Going to.”
Ruby cackled and leaned on the worn counter, forgotten coffee pot dangling from her hand. “You’ve got it way bad, don’t you honey.”
She didn’t bother to tack the question mark onto the end of that sentence since Aria’s crush on Tristan had made the gossip rounds several weeks ago. Mostly she didn’t mind the jokes and pretty well owned up to the truth because there was little point in lying about it when everyone could clearly see that she had no shame when it came to her favorite SEAL.
Except this was the one time she hadn’t been mooning over Tristan Marchande. And the one time she’d have to play it off as if Ruby had guessed one hundred percent correctly about her absentmindedness. “Sure thing. He’s a hottie, no doubt.”
No one could know that she’d enlisted Isaiah’s help. If nothing else, it didn’t feel sporting toward the bet to stack the deck, but that excuse didn’t begin to cover the other, very confusing thoughts that crowded into her brain about the man helping her. Thoughts that she couldn’t explain away. Dreams about seeing the world that she’d put aside, but he’d surfaced so easily. She’d rather not open that up for inspection to anyone just yet.
Good time to hightail it over to the corner booth.
She wound through the half-full restaurant, checking on Farmer Moon on the way and nodding at Lennie Ford, the antique store owner who took up an entire booth bench seat all by himself.
When she got there, Tristan winked and treated her to his megawatt smile, the one that usually made her weak in the knees. Today seemed to be an exception.
“Hey, there’s my best girl,” he said. “You’re looking extra lovely today. Did you do something different with your hair?”
“Not a thing.” Aria couldn’t help but return his smile despite the lack of knee-weakening behind it. Probably something was wrong with her, not him. Maybe she was coming down with a cold. “But aren’t you sweet?”
The first time they’d had this exchange, she’d nearly come out of her skin right there
in the middle of Ruby’s Diner. A man like Tristan had called her lovely. Sometimes she was still surprised that her bones hadn’t melted. But then he’d said nearly the same thing with a minor variation the next day, so she got the drift. He flirted by default.
She didn’t mind. When he complimented her in that whiskey smooth voice, anything sounded nice, even on repeat. She just didn’t quite swoon over it anymore. Probably when he asked her out on a date, he’d surely find a different script. Or ditch the lines that sounded practiced and have a real conversation. Like the kind she’d had with Isaiah.
A shiver rocked her shoulders out of nowhere.
That conversation…it had been everything. Isaiah was so different than anyone she’d ever met. He’d not only had some of the same yearning she’d had as a child to get out and experience the world, he’d done it. She shouldn’t find that so fascinating. Or so blindingly attractive. She’d wanted to ask him more about the things he’d seen. Poke at his adventurous spirit and examine how he’d gotten the courage to be the one who left instead of waiting around for someone else to do it to him.
But they weren’t supposed to be learning about each other. He was helping her with Tristan. Only. She should focus on that. Studiously, she avoided Isaiah’s gaze and trained hers on Caleb instead.
