FH: Just Found Heaven Ch. 03: Tara

"Maybe Amy thought that Nate would want you to have the ring so one day you can give it to the woman you'll love enough to have the life and family with that he couldn't," Sofia added. She gave my hand another gentle squeeze and I sighed because I suddenly felt like Bitch Supreme for my angry thoughts. Sofia was just too good a person and soooooo frustratingly straight.

"Maybe. Love is so complicated."

Sofia chuckled softly. "I know, Tara. We just have to try and make the best decisions we can as we go along. I don't know if I'll ever get married again but I'm not going to rule it out if the right man comes along."

Her smile was so warm and genuine that I wondered how any man could think she wasn't worth the time to develop a relationship with even if she did have two young daughters.

"Any man who doesn't think you're worth a ring and can't step up to be a daddy can just drop their drawers and bend over and hold the position so I can find a new home for these stilettos after the ceremony, instead of hiding them in the back of my closet."

Sofia laughed and squeezed my hand. "My father was so angry when Connor and I eloped at the courthouse because he didn't get to walk me down the aisle. A part of me will always regret that, but at the same time I know he'd be happy that Sam is here now and will be able to do it for him if the opportunity ever comes up again."

"My father is alive and well but he still hasn't adjusted to the idea that any wedding gifts in my future will have to be addressed to Mrs. and Mrs. whatever hyphenation we come up with."

"He has a problem with you being a lesbian?"

I offered a slight smile. "Eh, he's... very old world southern. My mom is too, but I think that she'd try to accept it if I ever tied the knot because the union might result in grandbabies. My dad's place setting would just be filler. Nate was the one who would've walked me down the aisle."

"You never know what will happen in the future Tara. And even without knowing Nate, I'm sure he wouldn't begrudge you asking Sam or even Max to stand in for him. They both clean up nicely in a suit and you'd be a stunning bride with a beautiful maid-of-honor."

When she silently pointed to herself for clarification of that last part, my lips twitched. "Did you just try and shrink me? Shame on you for using your wiles of distraction, you wonderful creation."

I felt my lips twitch again but my smile broke through when Sofia beamed at me.

Before I could make another smartass comment to hide any lingering emotional baggage that just needed to get lost, I found myself ensconced by soft warm skin, very plush breasts and the comforting scent of vanilla.

I hugged Sofia back because she had me in a death grip and being a mother had perfected her hugs as much as it had her mommy voice.

"Sam is probably freaking out right now in said suit," I murmured into Sofia's shoulder, smirking when she laughed.

"He was pacing around like a restless cat past midnight until I threatened him with chamomile tea and waking up Emma so she could make him read Goldilocks and the Three Bears. She likes it when he uses different voices for the characters."

I snickered. I'd teased Sam relentlessly many times after the night I'd come over around Emma's bedtime a few months ago to see Sofia, and had overheard our sexy, stoic neighborhood badass pitching his voice in high falsetto like he'd been kicked in the nads so he could do the feminine voices of fairy tale princesses. I could only imagine the bear situation.

I pulled back from the hug, then pressed a kiss against the dark, silky hair at Sofia's temple since I didn't want to leave a bright red lip print on her perfectly made-up face. "Hearing you threaten a man's street cred is stupidly hot."

Sofia chuckled as she pulled away. "Let me fix your hair with some spray because the braid is frizzing and then you can go check in on Sam. Everyone gets nervous on their wedding day. I'm curious how he looks, so try and snap a photo. I saw his suit but almost wish I'd been able to talk Emma into making him wear a traditional tuxedo."

"Ben couldn't have handled the 007ness of a former Ranger in black tie. Way too Jason Bourne badass. He admitted once that even though he was angry with Sam when he came back from Havana the night of the dance after I called him, he'd still wanted to jump Sam in the parking lot when he saw him in his dress uniform. I'm actually surprised that Sam didn't insist on wearing it, but then again, Emma's a compelling little imp."

"Sam was the one who told Emma that he wanted to wear a suit. It's one of the few things he insisted on. He said that though he'll always hold onto the good memories of his military service and the sense of family he'd had there, he also wanted to be able to embrace a new identity as Ben's husband and family."

Sofia's glossed lips curved into a grin when I blinked at that new information that was amazing teasing ammunition for a later date. Considering how much Sam struggled with romantic intimacy, that had been a baller move, and I grinned.

"Oooh he got romantic. Way to get er' done Sam."

"Mmhm. I told him that he and Ben should write their own vows so that he could put that into his. He turned green."

Sofia's laughter wafted over me as I closed my eyes when directed so that she could add another layer of air polluting hairspray to my thick braid before declaring me good to go.

"Thanks Sofia. I'm nominating myself the president of your fan club. We'll track down that horse and his prince too."

She grinned and squealed when I pounced on her, making dramatic kissy-face sounds as I hugged her hard before leaving to check in on a rattled former Ranger.

***

The sun was high in the sky when I stepped out onto the hotel's rooftop, and it temporarily blinded me so I didn't immediately see Max until a few owlish blinks adjusted my vision. I'd sought Sam out first, but after endless teasing commentary about my outfit that had earned him a few threats to his ball, he'd told me that he had his situation under control, but that Max had seemed slightly off when he'd left his hotel room earlier. Since we both knew why even if we weren't going to discuss it, I'd tracked Max down to check in on him.

He was sitting on the edge of the roof under the guardrail, managing to look as devil-may-care as he usually did with his dishwater blonde hair cut and styled with modern class, and his mirrored aviator sunglasses reflecting the afternoon's wicked rays away from his face. Very blonde Maverick via the original Top Gun.

Max had removed his suit jacket, and had rolled up his shirt sleeves so I caught a glimpse of the Caduceus tattoo on the underside of his tanned left forearm when he raised the silver flask in that same hand to toss back what looked like at least two healthy swallows of whatever was in it considering how his throat worked. After living with Max for months now, I knew that he didn't have a suicidal bone in his body, but I also knew that today was tearing his heart out even if his smiles and ever-present southern charm would probably convince everyone else otherwise. So, although I wasn't worried that he was deliberately planning to leap off the roof onto the sidewalk, ingesting copious amounts of booze while sitting on a stone ledge many stories up like a well-dressed gargoyle was still potentially a recipe for accidentally turning him into a sexy splat on the sidewalk if he slipped.

Max glanced up when he heard the click of my heels on the cement rooftop as I made my way toward him. I intended to remove them as soon as we got downstairs, and out to the private part of the hotel beach where the ceremony was being held. There's nothing graceful about a sexy pair of stilettos sinking into the sand and ruining your gliding swagger every few steps. The floor length hemline would hide my bare toes anyway. But at the moment the heels served the purpose of alerting Max to my presence while also giving him a few seconds to compose himself, and rethink his plans if in the event I was wrong and he did plan to become a bird.

I wasn't dressed to clean up bloodstains. Chiffon was a porous fabric.

Max didn't say anything when I placed my left hand on his shoulder for balance while I struggled with loosening the strap on my left heel to get it off with my right hand. He just wrapped his long, surgeon's fingers firmly around my upper thigh, high enough that if I'd been a different woman who liked non-detachable dicks, I might've warmed up a little extra in special places. But I wasn't, so I just turned my body and switched hands, waiting till Max repeated his earlier steadying grope so I could get the right heel off too. I dropped both offending shoes onto the ground before sitting down beside Max, hoping that my dress didn't snag on the stone ledge. Scuffed shoes I could hide. A tear down the side of my derriere would show up in photos. I swung my feet lightly over the edge as I squinted at Max in the sunlight.

There were many things to love about Max Melone, the man who over the last year had slightly edged out both Sam and Ben from the #1 best friends spot in my life. I'd never actually tell them that but didn't have to since it was probably the worst kept secret.

Max was intelligent, loyal, funny and unbeknownst to most people, he also had a huge heart hidden beneath his charismatic snark, and trademark swagger. He was also sexier than even a southern man had a right to be, which usually worked out well for me. Aside from one carnal night together that had been the result of lonely boredom, and too much booze on both our parts, I didn't have any interest in his pecker, but Max attracted all kinds of open-minded women when we went out together to bars and nightclubs. A surprising number of them were more than happy to shift their attention to me after some scintillating conversation, and a few drinks which empowered them to pursue their secret fantasy of kissing a girl. From personal experience, I knew that very few women weren't turned on by properly quoted poetry, and Max wasn't the only one who knew his way around a pretty pussy.

The greatest quality Max possessed though was his commendable ability not to start an incessant line of questioning unless a situation obviously merited a Q&A. A fact proven when he silently handed over his flask without any hesitation when I held my hand out and made grabby fingers. The sweet, mellow flavor of good bourbon was another check in Max's already impressive list of pros. It was a tragedy that his dick wasn't a detachable attachment interchangeable with a vagina.

I only took one sip as opposed to the two I'd seen him take--and the others that had probably been swallowed before I'd shown up on the roof. I could handle my liquor, but straight bourbon had been Nate's drink of choice when he wanted something stronger than a beer, and my heart couldn't handle another trip down memory lane right now. My earlier with conversation with Sofia had been brutal enough.

Max swept me with a slow look when I handed the flask back to him, his lips twitching by the time he'd made it from my toes where he'd started, up past my normally impressive cleavage that was currently holding court high and proud thanks to my offensively expensive strapless push-up bra. I couldn't see Max's eyes behind the sunglasses, but the curl of his lips broadcast his thought process loud and clear though it was more discreet than Sam's owlish blinking, and then wide-ass grin had been after the initial reveal.

"Wow."

"Before you go anywhere else with that train of thought, know that just because you don't look drunk enough to unintentionally slip and fall off this roof doesn't mean I still couldn't sell it as an accident."

Max's grin deepened as he removed his sunglasses and set them on top of his head so I could see his eyes. "I was just going to say that I liked your hair."

I snorted. Liar.

Max's eyes were gleaming with his usual high levels of barley contained smartass but thankfully he also looked focused and in control of all his faculties which meant that he wasn't drunk yet. That was surely going to happen later tonight after the ceremony, and the best man speech but for now he was holding it together.

He stretched and took another sip from his flask but just one this time.

"How'd you find me?"

"Women are gossipy creatures my friend and this is a beautiful, but also very small boutique hotel so the hijinks of a sexy best man with a southern drawl who's as generous with his lips as he is with his tips, leaves a lasting impression on people. Selena, our gorgeous, blessedly heavy-handed bartender from last night said she hopes you come again soon-- in a literal sense I'm assuming since you didn't return to our hotel room last night. She was in the lounge this morning, and told me that you'd asked where the roof access point was. She let me up with her hotel badge. Very obliging lady."

Max's grin was slow and lazy, not a hint of embarrassment present in his bright blue eyes when I called him out. "Yeah, she should be working in hospitality. Really knows how to make a guest feel welcome."

"I'm sure she did. And yet instead of being happily fucked out, you're up here drinking like a suburban housewife before noon. What's with starting the party early?"

I knew exactly what was wrong and Max knew that I knew. We also both knew that it was my duty as his best friend to ask anyway.

"Nothing's wrong. Just wanted to enjoy the view for a bit."

"Oh no sir. I just barely survived the Spanish Inquisition downstairs so I'm sharing the misery. Talk."

When Max didn't answer me right away, my expression softened. "I know today's going to be tough, but this is the right thing for Sam and Ben."

"Don't worry darlin'. I don't have any intention of voicing objections today to cock-block the "I do's."

"Great to know because I'd hate to put my stilettos up your butt seeing as I'm saving them for any asshat who ever screws over Sofia. Please, pretty please, tell me what's wrong. I know it's more than just the wedding because you've been bracing yourself for it for months."

I expected the momentary pause but not the resigned sigh that broke the silence, or the suddenly visible, uncharacteristic strain in Max's eyes.

"I was thinking about something Connor said to me once."

"I thought we'd agreed that he-who-we-shall-not-name isn't allowed to come up in any conversation today," I said, referring to the code name Max and I had coined for Sam's late brother. The moniker had been my idea because Max and I agreed that while the world wasn't completely overrun by complete wastes of space, the ones who do exist wholeheartedly deserve their disparaging titles. Connor's personality had checked every box under disgusting human being. Although he and Sam had been identical twins, where it mattered-- heart and soul-- they were as different as peanut butter and mayonnaise. But, Connor was still a sore spot for Sam, and even though Max would happily have taken me salsa dancing on Connor's grave, Sam had confided to me once that as much as Max hated what Connor had become over the years, Connor had mattered to Max once too because of everything the three of them had gone through together growing up as kids, and later again in the military.

Their relationships had all the components needed for a very dysfunctional Band of Brothers theme song.

"I know. I'll get over it. Just got stuck in my head for a minute. No need to worry darlin'."

"As much as I want to jump on this forget-about-the-asshole bandwagon, you wouldn't be up here drinking alone if you weren't really upset about something. I know you better than that, so stop the Mickey Mouse BS and talk to me Melone."

"Planning to shrink me?"

"You couldn't afford my fees sugar. If I charged you and Sam for our impromptu sit-down sessions, I could send my entire fleet of nonexistent children to college for several lifetimes apiece."

It was rare for me to push this hard for someone to open up about their private thoughts because I preferred people in my inner circle to come to me willingly with their problems. Using years of experience to pry into their psyches always felt like a violation of their trust. But I'd never seen Max this rattled, and though I had no doubts that he could pull off hiding all that hurt with smiles and teasing until the day was done, I was worried about what would happen when the night was over and the curtain came down on the act.

Max was in love with Sam and had to give him up. He knew that, and he'd made an unhappy, resigned peace with the fact. But the shadows in his eyes right now were something new. Something darker was haunting him, and I needed to know what it was.

"Please?," I said again.

After Max took one last healthy swallow from the flask, he screwed the cap on tightly and slid it neatly into the inside pocket of his laid-out suit jacket before holding out his hand for the small metal tin of wintergreen Altoids I automatically removed from my clutch. I always had them in whatever bag I was carrying that day. Once upon a time, they'd been a way for me to hide the scent of bourbon on my own breath before noon. Now I just liked the flavor. Max knew both of those facts.

"Sam's been in love with me since we were 16 Tara," he said after popping the mint into his mouth and immediately moving it into his left cheek like a chipmunk so that it could slowly dissolve while still allowing him to have this conversation.

"I didn't want to admit to myself how much I loved him until we were about 20. But instead of telling him, I insisted on remaining fuck-buddies and pushed as many random people as I could between us so it wouldn't seem like we'd ever be more than casual."

I nodded, keeping my expression compassionate and neutral-- my therapist face. Max wasn't my patient, but he was my best friend and in emotional pain. He needed my sensitive softer side right now, not our usual affectionate snark.

"I know, Max. You messed up. We've talked about this before. What's fuckhead have to do with it?"

Max rubbed a hand over his handsome face restlessly with a vigor that would've smudged all my own carefully applied, glowy wedding warpaint.

"After Connor and Sam broke ties, Connor came to see me, but Sam doesn't know and I want to keep it that way."

I felt my left eyebrow lift, but nodded in silent acknowledgement. Knowing how open Max was with the people that he cared about, if he was keeping a secret like that from Sam then it had to be for a good reason.

"What did Connor say?"

Max's lips tilted into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "A lot of shit, but the main event, was that I never told Sam how I felt because I had to manage him too often to love him."

I felt my eyes narrowing as my protective temper flared up. "He was an asshat, Max."

"Yeah, he was, but was he completely wrong?" Max said, turning his head to gaze out over the ocean. "There were so many fucking times that I had the opportunity to tell him how I felt, and yet I always choked. Instead, I pushed him away for years. Gave him away fucking gift wrapped, even though he's the only man I've ever given a damn about. Why the hell did I do that Tara?"

I heard Max's knuckles crack when he restlessly squeezed his hands between his knees.

I hated shrinking my friends but Max was asking for help even if he wasn't entirely sure he wanted the answers, so I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

"All interpersonal relationships are complicated, Max," I said after a moment. "Even close friends and families struggle with creating and respecting boundaries." I took the little tin of Altoids mints when he handed them back to me and hid them in my purse again. At the rate we were going with the revelations and the booze, I was going to have to go back to the room before the ceremony started and swap out the mints for one of those miniature bottles of hotel mouthwash and a lot of aspirin.