Page 35 of Merging Wright

I chuckle, and Mach twitches inside me. We both freeze, and then we laugh again.

He’s Mach-ilicious.

18

Playlist: “I’m Not In Love” – 10cc

(from Guardians of the Galaxy)

[Mach]

Reality hits hard when my phone alarm goes off in the morning. The driver told me he’d return at nine to bring Jane and me back to Wrightwood. We don’t have anything to wear other than her ruined wedding dress and my three-piece suit. Before we leave, I ask Jane if she wants to shower, but she declines.

“Maybe when we get back to the house, and I can put on something clean.”

In the meantime, she’ll smell like us—champagne and sex. Needing a minute to regroup, I excuse myself. Last night was insane. Sex with Jane was so much more than I imagined. The chemistry between us was what I’d always fantasized. The emotional connection was what I hadn’t expected.

When I found Jane quietly crying in the shower, something broke inside me. This strong woman always holds it together. In the eight years I’ve known her, I’ve never once seen her break down. But yesterday was a lot. The will. The wedding. Our night together.

Only one night.

As I stand in the shower this morning, all the reasons why Jane and I cannot be more flood me.

Tracy. Myles. The town. The partnership.

What Jane and I have is a business arrangement. Sure, it’s gone a little too far and I’ve made an empty promise, but we can get back on track. The sooner we figure out the issues with the town, the sooner I can get away from Myles and the memories of Tracy. Then, I can deal with Jane.

One year. For three-hundred and sixty-five days, Jane needs to remain my wife. She won’t need a partnership as she’ll inherit one million dollars. I don’t want the money. She can have it all. I’ll consider it a settlement for sticking out this farce.

Only last night didn’t feel fake to me.

And it’s all the more reason to keep Jane where she belongs—at arm’s length from me. I can’t love someone like her. I can’t ever love anyone again. I loved Tracy. She was my person, my heart, and she’s gone. Tracy took my heart with her.

The reminder puts me in a sour mood. When I find Jane sitting in her soiled wedding dress on the edge of the bed, that mood turns to burning acid.

How could I do this to her? With her?

“We should probably get going.” My pants are wrinkled. My shirt hangs open. I sit on the edge of the bed myself, keeping a wide distance from Jane as I snag my socks and shoes.

Our one night is over. I’m treating her like all the other women I’ve dated over the years, but this is for the best.

Fact, Jane said to me. You’re a serial dater. Intimacy issues.

She wasn’t wrong. I hate liars and cheats as much as she seems to, and I am always upfront with a date, thus no repeats. One and done because I can’t risk becoming invested in anyone again. I know my heart. I’m a possessive fuck. I love hard, which means it’s better not to love at all.

“Once we get back to town, maybe we should divide and conquer, walk through Bridge Alley and speak with the business owners.” I have no idea why I’m mentioning the project or what I’d even say to the local townsfolk, but I need to distract myself and dissolve the awkward tension between Jane and me. She’s eerily quiet. Everything in me wants to tug her back on the bed, enter her again and again, and call in sick . . . for a week.

But I won’t.

Work is what we both need. Then we can get out of this mess.

I stand once my socks and shoes are in place. Stepping around Jane, I slip on my vest and hold out my jacket for her.

She gazes up at me from her seated position on the bed. “Why are you like this?” Her voice is sad and soft.

I don’t have a single answer for her. The reasons are vast.

Jane slowly stands before me, staring me down despite the desperation in her eyes. “Why am I afraid the second we walk out that door, everything will change?”