Red Clover Inn. Carla Neggers

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СКАЧАТЬ might have felt out of place at the simple but elegant wedding, but he wasn’t the type. He appreciated rugged Justin Sloan’s love for Samantha and, likewise, his awkward pleasure at expressing that love in front of his family and friends. Greg thought back to his own wedding. He and Laura had been young, filled with hopes and dreams.

      I’m seeing a great guy here in Minneapolis. I wanted you to know.

      Laura, a couple of weeks ago. Their divorce had been finalized months ago and Greg was glad she was getting on with her life. No problem there. The problem was his own life. Getting wounded in an ambush on the job and its isolating nature hadn’t helped him with his personal life, but the biggest issue, he knew, was inertia. Laura had always been there. He’d taken their life together for granted. He didn’t want to make that same mistake again.

      After the service, he noticed Charlotte Bennett laughing with the bride and groom. Her maid-of-honor dress was a deep coral, its cut perfect for her curves. She didn’t look as cool and judgmental as she had last night. The warm color of her dress and the lush late-spring garden setting probably softened her hard edges. According to Brody, her parents were in Australia on an underwater salvage project and couldn’t make it to the wedding.

      Interesting family, the Bennetts.

      Greg congratulated the happy couple and found his way to the bar.

      A beer, a table in the shade, a breeze stirring in a trellis of peach-colored roses—despite not having a woman at his side, his life, he decided, was pretty good. At least right now, at this moment. He felt some of the weariness and rawness of the past months lift. He was able to focus on his surroundings without being poised for threats. Instead he could sit back and enjoy the beauty of the place. Warm-pink roses in addition to the peach-colored ones, bumblebees, pots of herbs and flowers. Nice. Damn nice, in fact.

      He observed Charlotte as she greeted guests and relatives. She struck him as a woman who preferred to be here, at her cousin’s wedding, alone. Her body language said loud and clear she didn’t want or need a man on her arm. Was she getting over a relationship? Thinking about sunken U-boats? Greg knew better than to speculate but figured there was no real harm in it while he was drinking a beer and smelling the roses.

      Brody joined him. “You look awake and sober.”

      “I was awake and sober when you saw me last night.”

      “Sober, maybe.” Brody pulled out a chair and sat down, loosening his tie. “Great wedding. Heather says she doesn’t regret that we didn’t have a more formal wedding.”

      “She’d tell you if she did,” Greg said, noticing Heather making her way toward them.

      “True,” Brody said. “Sloans don’t hold back their opinions.”

      “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

      “Also true. When do you head to Knights Bridge?”

      “Haven’t figured that out. I haven’t even decided on my flight out of here. Probably Monday but I could leave tomorrow. I don’t have anything I need to do in London. Do you know this Red Clover Inn?”

      “I remember it from when I was a kid. Quiet place. It did a good business with fishermen and graduations at local colleges. Do you fish, Greg?”

      “No.”

      “Lots of rivers, streams and lakes in the area, and the reservoir allows fishing.”

      “Great. I’ll keep that in mind if I get bored.”

      “You’ll get bored,” Brody said with a grin.

      “I’m not staying two weeks. There are plenty of Sloans who can look after the inn. I like that I can help out but I figure my bleary eyes last night at the party are half the reason the idea came up.”

      “You always have bleary eyes these days, Greg.”

      “Point taken.”

      “You could use the break.”

      “I guess. Anyway, I need to see my kids. They’ve got stuff going on this summer. It’s not like when they were little.” He drank some of his beer. He could hear a bee humming in the roses. “Maybe I’ll invite them out to Knights Bridge before their summer gets crazy. We can pop down and do a few days in DC, too. See the sights there. There aren’t any sights in Knights Bridge.”

      “Rivers, streams, lakes and a reservoir.”

      “So you said.”

      Brody stretched out his legs, drank some of his beer. He, too, seemed to be enjoying the bucolic setting. “You all could tour Emily Dickinson’s old house in Amherst. You read her in high school, right? Nineteenth-century poet. Historic Old Deerfield and Old Sturbridge aren’t far.”

      “Old being the operative word here. Make a list. We’ll see.”

      “It can feel like time stopped in Knights Bridge,” Brody said.

      “But it hasn’t. It marches on there just like everywhere else. Can’t stop the clock.”

      “Cheer up. Hell, Greg. It’s a wedding.”

      “What? I am cheerful.”

      Brody just shook his head. Greg followed his friend’s gaze to Heather, who kept stopping to greet other guests. Finally she made it to their table and sat next to Brody, grabbing his hand. “What a great day,” she said.

      Eric Sloan, the best man, stood to toast the bride and groom, followed by the maid of honor, neither of whom let anyone’s champagne get warm. Succinct was fine with Greg but he was intrigued watching Charlotte address the gathering with such poise and graciousness. Not exactly his experience with her. He could hear her laugh of affection and delight when she hugged her cousin after the toast. Maybe he’d been a bigger jerk last night than he’d realized and he’d misjudged her.

      “Got what you deserved, my friend,” he said under his breath.

      A few minutes after the toast, Charlotte made her way over to his table. It was fun watching her move. He could see she was fit, but he’d had an up-close-and-personal taste of just how fit last night. All that diving had worked wonders.

      She didn’t sit. She greeted Brody and Heather warmly, then turned to Greg. “I see you made it to the wedding.”

      “Wouldn’t miss it. You ever come eye to eye with sharks while you were diving?”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      He pointed his champagne glass at her. “I bet you could take on a shark. You’re in good shape. Into CrossFit? I know some guys who are. It’s smart to stay in shape when you dive for sunken treasure for a living. You never know what you’ll run across underwater.”

      “I don’t dive for sunken treasure.”

      “Right. You’re a serious scholar. Not going to tell me about sharks?”

      She touched a fingertip to a rosebud. “We’re at a wedding, Agent Rawlings.”

      “So СКАЧАТЬ