Page 81 of Merging Wright

“Sure.” I lift the glass and swallow the last of the crisp liquid, which suddenly tastes acidic on my tongue.

Mach is already standing. Date done.

But I’m not certain Myles is the catalyst here. Mach can harbor a grudge.

I can only hope he doesn’t regret this afternoon with me now that it’s turned to sour grapes.

+ + +

As we drive in silence back toward Wrightwood, I can’t seem to let the agitated bear beside me rest. He didn’t have to shut down on me. He could have simply said he didn’t want to discuss Myles. As for working things out with his brother, it was only a suggestion, and he’d admitted he’s too old to harbor ancient resentments. Mach and Myles don’t have to be best friends again, but Mach needs to forgive his brother and let bygones be gone.

So, I poke the grizzly with a different topic.

“Did you sleep with her in here?” I glance around the truck’s cab with its new leather seat and updated sound system.

“Jane,” Mach growls, fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

“I bet you lost your virginity in here.”

“Jesus,” he hisses under his breath before adding louder, “Knock it off.”

“Where did you propose to her?” The question is one I’ve been wondering. Was it at the park under the no-longer-there gazebo? Or someplace unique like that wine cellar? Was he romantic then? With her?

My heart races as my thoughts zigzag. My irritation grows, sabotaging this date. But he ruined it by cutting me off, and we’ve been itching for a fight like the ones we used to have in the office. He’d push my buttons and those nights I’d have extreme orgasms, working myself with a high-powered sex toy to release the tension.

Mach doesn’t answer my question but his jaw clenches.

“You asked her to marry you in this truck, didn’t you?” It would be all the more reason he doesn’t drive this thing. Not only does it hold the memory of her loss, it holds the key to all his firsts. The sexual moments. The romantic ones.

Mach pulls off the main road onto a two-tire strip leading along a field, and we jostle over the terrain until we stop beneath a tree. He cuts the engine. I’m expecting him to turn on me and tell me to get out and walk back to Wrightwood.

He shifts, angling his wrist over the steering wheel and his arm along the back of the seat.

“You’re right.” His voice is sharp like snapping scissors. “I took her virginity in here and proposed on this bench. Is that what you want to hear? Feel better?”

Why the hell would I feel better hearing this truth?

“Every time I turn around in this goddamn town, there are reminders of her. Of us. Just looking at my brother— ” Mach takes a heaving breath. “I can’t stand it sometimes.”

“The wine cellar park?”

He looks away from me, out the windshield.

I don’t know why I asked. I’m a fool for thinking our moment was special. A day date. He lived here half his life. There isn’t anywhere he didn’t go without her. I shouldn’t be jealous but my stomach pitches. There’s too much honesty in this truck.

“Let’s just get back to Camilla’s,” I mutter.

“No,” Mach barks. “I didn’t get my turn in the cellar.”

My mouth falls open. “I am not going to suck you off right now.” He’s de-Mach-lussional, if he thinks I’m putting his dick in my mouth.

“No. You’re going to get over here and fuck me. I’m trying to make new memories here, Jane. That’s why I want to christen every business we restore. I want to touch you every place that’s new to you, making it new to me. And if this truck is an issue, then get over here and ride me. Make me a new memory to wipe away all the other ones.”

I don’t want to wipe his history away. He can have his memories. I just want to understand what I’m up against. Then again, there’s no competition. I’m alive. I’m his wife. But I won’t ever have his heart. It died in this truck.

“Take me home.” I cross my arms.

“Baby, I would never take you by force. I’d never make you do something you don’t want to do, but I’m asking you one more time to get on my lap and take what’s yours.”