Page 17 of Merging Wright

Maybe I’m the one seeing a ghost. Myles might as well be one because he’s invisible to Mach until the loud thwack of something falling to the ground makes both Myles and I flinch. Mach walks toward me, not even acknowledging that he kicked something over.

“Here.” He holds out a mug. My eyes dart over his shoulder where Myles takes a hobbling step forward before bending down to retrieve what fell. When he stands upright, he leans on a cane.

“What the hell?” I mutter, attempting to catch Mach’s eyes. When he refuses to look at me, I step left, allowing him to walk around me. I’m not leaving this room after that petty display.

“Are you alright?” I ask Myles, who stares at Mach’s back.

Mach steps into my line of vision. “Jane, dressed.”

“See the caveman act doesn’t work any better with this one.” Myles chuckles, bitterness lacing the knowing laugh.

My brows pinch as I peer back at Mach. His fingers curl into a fist. The hand holding the tea mug tightens. The liquid trembles within the ceramic, threatening to overflow.

Suddenly, the tension in the room becomes clear to me. Two brothers. One woman.

Struggling with a mountain of emotion, I take the mug from Mach’s hand before he spills it and forcefully set it on the table beside me. Without a word, I spin away from him and head for our room.

Acushla? What a joke. Another woman was his heartbeat. Another wife . . . who I’d never known existed. The omission hurts. The reality of it is like a knife to my chest. He loved another woman enough to marry her. And I’m being ridiculous.

Taking the stairs two at a time, my heart hammers. The faster I can get through these next few days, the better. Because I need to get my head out of the clouds about holding hands in the dark and whispered compliments from the man who isn’t actually my husband.

11

Playlist: “Spirit in the Sky” – Norman Greenbaum

(from Guardians of the Galaxy)

[Mach]

Fuck!

Everything in me fights the urge to turn on my brother and rip into him. He had no right to tell Jane what he did within minutes of meeting her. He has no right to speak to her or even breathe her air. He hurt her. Her suddenly sad blue eyes gave away her pain, and I hate him with every fiber of my being. What the fuck is he doing in Ma’s kitchen?

As quickly as the question arises, I recall he lives in the house out back. Ma lets him have free range here. She forgave him. I never will.

With fists clenched and jaw tight, I swipe Jane’s mug from the table, and follow her. Once inside our bedroom, Jane is rummaging through her suitcase. My gaze falls to the back of her toned legs, long and sleek beneath short shorts. Her ass is perfection in the tiny amount of material. Her feet are bare. She’s more beautiful this morning than I’ve ever seen her.

And she was wearing my old WVU sweatshirt. I nearly had a heart attack seeing her in that shirt. The material now lays crumpled on the bed, as if she ripped it off and tossed it aside.

Fuck! “Jane.”

“Don’t,” she snaps, pulling things from her bag.

“Look, Myles and I . . . It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” She spins to face me. “Maybe we should have played the five facts game your way because this is something I certainly should have known.”

“This?” I choke despite knowing her meaning.

“You were married!” Her voice rises before she clears her throat in an attempt to lower the volume. “You were married, and you didn’t think to mention it. And your brother? When you said you didn’t talk to him, I thought . . . this is more than what I thought. He was invisible to you.”

“He is invisible.”

“He’s injured.”

Her concern for Myles claws at my chest. “Do not feel sorry for him.”

Jane glares at me with scorching blue eyes. “I feel sorry for you. That might be worse.”