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Crash Landing
Crash Landing
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Crash Landing

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“No, just like it’s not my fault that I fell in love.”

“You’re leaving me hanging?”

“I’m sorry, Gibb, but I’ve found something more. I don’t want to end up like you.”

Two whips of hurt and anger lashed through him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t want to be consumed by work the way you are.”

An accusing silence stretched over the miles between them.

“If I wasn’t consumed by work, I wouldn’t be where I am today,” he said.

“Where are you, Gibb?”

“At the top of the freaking world.”

“Alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have a cover model girlfriend and my Bentley and my beach house and—”

“I’m getting married on Saturday in Key West on the Fourth of July, aboard the Sea Anemone, Wharf 16 at 4:00 p.m. I hope you’ll be there.”

It wasn’t until this very moment that Gibb understood exactly how much he’d been looking forward to not only working with Scott, but bringing him in on this deal. It was Gibb’s way of paying his buddy back for the time Scott had literally saved his life.

Gibb pushed the platinum bracelet up on his wrist. Scott had a matching bracelet. They’d bought the man jewelry together, a symbol of their brotherhood and undying friendship after that crazy diving trip to the Great Barrier Reef where Gibb had been barbed in the chest by a stingray. Only Scott’s quick action and first aid training had prevented Gibb from removing the barb. He’d come within seconds of ending up like the famous crocodile hunter, Steve Irwin.

Reflexively, Gibb rubbed his chest. “This Saturday?”

“This Saturday.”

“But it’s Wednesday!”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because Jackie and I just got engaged.”

“What? Why so fast?”

“When it’s right, it’s right. We can’t wait any longer to be together.”

“So she’s pregnant.”

“No, she’s not pregnant.” Scott sounded irritated.

“Whoa, back up the truck. I talked to you six weeks ago and you didn’t say a word about this Jackie woman. How long have you known her?”

“A month,” Scott confessed, not sounding the least bit sheepish.

“A month! You’re marrying someone you’ve only known a month?”

“Don’t rain on my parade. She’s the love of my life,” Scott growled.

Taken aback, Gibb blinked. He couldn’t believe this was his childhood buddy. “I recall you saying a time or two that you were never getting married.”

“Dumb. That was back when I was dumb and stupid. I’d never been in love before. I never knew it could feel like this.”

“I recall you once said the same thing about that waitress in Panama.” Who in the hell was this woman who’d woven such a spell over Scott?

“That was lust. There’s a big difference. I know that now. You’ll know it too when you find it.”

Gibb frowned. “Hang on, this too will pass.”

“No. No, it won’t.” Scott sounded adamant.

“You say that now—”

Scott cut him off. “Can we expect to see you at the wedding?”

“There shouldn’t be a wedding. You’re throwing away all our plans, and re-upping in the Coast Guard when you’d planned to get out and—”

“Sorry, but meeting Jackie has changed everything.”

“I get that. It’s what scares me.”

“Come to the wedding if you want, but you’re not changing my mind.”

“This is craziness!” Gibb yanked at the knot of his tie. “You’ve lost your mind over a piece of—”

“Don’t say it,” Scott threatened.

Gibb was so upset that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. “Tail.”

A dial tone sounded in his ear.

His very best buddy on the planet had just hung up on him. Shocked, Gibb stared at the phone. Disturbing how fate could turn life on a whim.

SOPHIA WAS FILLING up the gas tank on El Diablo when Gibb Martin came stalking up to her, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight and a determined expression on his lips.

“I need you to fly me to Key West, Florida,” he demanded.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, holstered the nozzle back into the pump. “What bit you?”

“I want to leave right now.” He tapped the face of his Rolex with an impatient finger.

“Mosquito? Botfly? Hornet?”

If he were a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of his ears. “No joking around. Time is of the essence.”

She lifted one shoulder. “Sorry, amigo.”

“I’ll pay handsomely.”

“No can do.”

“What?” He looked stunned that she’d refused him.

“N.O. Nada.”

“How much would it take to change your mind?”

“Money is not the issue.”

“What is?”

“Well, for one thing, I already have a 2:00 p.m. fare.”

“They can wait. Call another bush pilot.”

What an arrogant tool he was. “My, we have a grand sense of our own importance, don’t we?”

Gibb snorted, pressing his lips into a firm line. “This is an emergency.”

“An emergency?” That changed everything. Why was she such a smart mouth? “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said contritely. “Did someone die?”

“Worse.”

Sophia put a hand to her heart. “What is worse than death?”

“Marriage.”

Confused, Sophia pushed her hat back on her head. “Someone is getting married? That is your emergency?”

“Yes.” His voice was flat, brooking no more questions.

Sophia questioned anyway. “You’re against marriage?”

“Not in general. Not for most people. It’s just not my personal bailiwick.”

“Bailiwick?”

“It means sphere of knowledge.”

She grimaced. “Fan-cy.”

“Once upon a time I hired a vocabulary coach, deal with it.”

She raised both palms. “Communication doesn’t work unless you can speak so that others understand you.”

“Andalé, andalé.” He made shooing motions at her. “How’s that for communication?”

“Have you been watching old Speedy Gonzales cartoons?”

“It’s not the correct word?” His face colored.

“Not if you don’t mind sounding like a cartoon mouse. Vámonos or rápido might be what you’re looking for.”

“Well, let’s vámonos, rápido, rápido.”

“There’s one thing I’m still unclear on.”

He exhaled loudly. “What’s that?”

“How is marriage an emergency?”

“I have to stop the wedding.”

“Ah, I see.” She nodded.

“See what?”

“You are still hung up on a former lover and she has broken your heart by marrying another before you could reconcile.”

“No, no.” He shifted, jammed his hands in his pockets and leaned in closer to her. “That’s not it at all.”

She caught a whiff of his scent—kumquat, leather, musk—nice cologne. “Then what is it?”

“She’s all wrong for him.”

“Who?”

“He has only known her a month,” Gibb muttered.

“Who?”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“A month!” Gibb exclaimed. “My best friend is getting married to a woman that he’s only known for one month.”

“Oh, I see. That clearly is the end of the world.”

“Would you marry a man you’d only known for a month?”

Sophia grinned, trying to get him to lighten up. “Depends on the man.”