Page 73 of Merging Wright

This is all news to me. I didn’t know she planned to call her sister. I also didn’t know she hadn’t been inside Myles’s space. Relief washes through me. I’ve become a possessive man and a jealous lover with regards to Jane, and I need to start keeping these things in check if I plan to win over my wife. I heard her loud and clear last night when we argued. Jane isn’t interested in playing games with me, and I’m too old to play around. I want sex with my wife.

We aren’t friends with benefits like she sharply told me last night. It hurt when she said we weren’t even friends. Small relief came earlier when she told me we are friends. After what we just did in the bathroom, I’m hoping I’ve changed her mind about sex with me. Maybe after my apology this morning, her heart is changing a little bit as well.

Then again, I don’t deserve her heart as I can’t give her mine. I’m not willing to let heartbeats overrule my head.

I won’t fall in love again.

+ + +

To my surprise, Jane invites me to attend the breakfast meeting with Myles. I’m certain the invitation is to prove a point, but I give in as I want to spend time with her. I’d promised myself I’d bite my tongue, but I can’t keep my hands off Jane, making my own point to my brother.

“Did you hear about The Barber Shop?” Myles begins. We sit on tall stools along the counter at On The Curve.

“What happened?” Jane stiffens. I’d like to think it’s her concern for The Barber Shop and not my hand stroking up her spine. We haven’t shown much public affection. Initially, I told Jane the action would be easy to dismiss but I’m proving myself wrong today.

“Fire.”

My hand stills on Jane. Myles has my attention now. “What? When? How?”

“Last night. Fire inspector doesn’t know what exactly happened yet.” Myles lowers his voice. “Current report says faulty electrical wiring. But I know the electrician. He would have pulled old wires and replaced them.”

Instinct says to snap at Myles. We are trusting him to use reputable, credible workers, but that promise to bite my tongue returns as I glance down at Jane’s hand suddenly on my thigh.

“Someone might be sending a message about the renovations.”

Hairs on my nape rise, but I still snap at my twin. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s probably kids just making a ruckus.” A memory fills my head of when we broke into the high school and rigged all the staff toilets. We hadn’t meant to break the porcelain, just give a teacher or two a shock when the flush-water backfired out of the bowl instead of draining down it. At forty-eight, I accept the error of vandalism. At eighteen, I was convinced it was harmless fun.

“I’m not so certain,” Myles replies, looking over his shoulder.

“Was anyone hurt?” Jane asks. Her hand slides down my thigh, lowering to my knee.

“It happened during the night. We might want to consider some security cameras along the street. Maybe on some lampposts,” Myles adds.

“We weren’t intending to install lampposts. We’ll be stringing lights over the Alley,” Jane adds. She’s picking up the town lingo and using the nickname for Bridge Alley merchants. “We could attach cameras to the buildings, maybe. That’d be a question for a security company, though.”

Myles nods. He’s the man with the connections in town, and as much as I hate it, Jane trusts him.

“How much damage was there?” I ask.

“Mainly smoke damage. We can restore the wires. Fix the wall. Air out the place.”

“Still, it’s another expense.” Jane sighs and reaches for her tablet. As the self-appointed overall project manager down here, she knows who has what happening when. She’s upset she didn’t get to demolish The Barber Shop or Bliss because of her injuries and recovery time, but we have more businesses to resurrect. She’ll get her chance to demo walls and rip up floors. But no more tree removal near the river.

The three of us remain quiet a minute as Jane scans something on her tablet and Myles sips his coffee. I continue to rub my thumb in circles on my wife’s lower back.

Myles sets his mug down and speaks. “I wanted to mention something about Tanner’s Bait and Tackle Shack. Rumor has it the place caught fire from faulty fish smokers, but I’m not buying it. The investigation report claimed the smokers overheated, but the last people to use them wouldn’t have left them on. They are more responsible than that.”

“Rumors are just that, Myles.” My brother doesn’t need to be filling Jane’s head with suspicious activity based on small town hearsay and a need for gossip.

“The fire happened in June when Fischer knew the end was near. He changed his will around that time,” Myles adds, looking at me across Jane. At one time, my brother and I could read one another. I’d know what he’s thinking. He didn’t have to speak to me.

I can no longer understand what he’s trying to say, and a twinge of regret needles me. A strange pinch happens near my sternum, and I sit up straighter, as if to right the sudden, sharp ache with a deep breath and better posture. The sensation does not dissipate, though, as I continue to watch Myles.

“Are you implying Fischer set fire to a building on his property?” Jane asks.

Myles scoffs. “Absolutely not. He couldn’t get out of bed and while he knew people”—Myles air quotes—“he didn’t know anyone who would maliciously burn down old Tanner’s place.”

“How do you know Fischer changed his will?” I’m stuck on this nugget of information.