Page 75 of Merging Wright

“Can I show you the new park?” she asks.

I eagerly agree, and with her little hand in mine, she walks me to the park to show me the improvements. Seeing the natural spaces cleaned up, and the new finish on the deck plus the swings in the trees makes me . . . happy. Also seeing Willow’s excitement as she leads me around the newly improved park and then both of us swinging on the sturdy swings warms my insides and wipes away all the Mach-Myles turmoil from my breakfast meeting.

+ + +

At the end of the day, I’m sitting in Camilla’s front room, reflecting back on the morning with Mach and Myles. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt as good as I did today. Despite the fire at The Barber Shop, our projects were progressing at a surprising pace. With every new plan for restoration to a business, an unfamiliar bubble of excitement rose within me. And the fact Mach and Myles actually agreed to build a new structure—the community room honoring Camilla—was such a huge win for the day.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch Mach approaching me while spinning his ballcap backward on his head. Then I’m flattened on the couch, and I giggle like a teen.

“Finally.” He hovers over me. “I have you all to myself.”

Camilla is at her book club and who knew where Myles was.

I press a hand to his chest as he lowers. “I thought you were in a rush for these months to pass.” Mentioning his comment from this morning might dampen the moment, and I shouldn’t be remembering this slight when I’ve had such a good day.

“That was for Myles’s benefit, but we aren’t discussing Myles or the project or the businesses downtown right now. Off the clock, Mrs. Wright. Right now, I want my wife.”

His mouth descends to mine, and his kiss curls my toes. I reach for his ballcap and tug it off, giving me access to his hair and the back of his neck. Our mouths move together as Mach balances over me. I hook my leg over his hip and tug him down to blanket me.

Mach chuckles against my mouth. “Greedy for something, baby?”

You. I only want him, but he only wants sex.

How difficult can it be? Having sex with Mach is a dream come true. I’ve been physically attracted to him since he hired me to work for Impact. On the other hand, my heart knows the truth. I admire Mach. His tenacity, his persistence, his eagerness to get a job done and do it thoroughly. I’m confused by his sudden attention.

He missed me, he said this morning. Or was it that he missed sex? He also couldn’t keep his hands off me today, touching me at every turn. Or was that for Myles’s benefit as well? Staking his claim like he did with the searing kiss in front of the electrical workers a week ago.

“Stop thinking,” Mach mutters against my lips. With his hand under my shirt, his palm creeps upward. When he finally has his fingers between my breasts, he tugs the center gore of my bra together. “I have a date with this spot on you.”

“Oh really?” Yeah, having sex with Mach won’t be a hardship but it’s my heart that I’ll need to harden.

“Yep. Need to put my dick right here.” His finger strokes between my breasts again. He asked me if I’d been fucked there. My sex life hasn’t been particularly adventurous, and I swallow around a nervous giggle. The thought of his hard length between my soft swells sends a ripple of arousal rushing up my center.

“I miss dates.” I have no idea why I admit this.

Mach looks me in the eyes. “Like I said, we have one tonight.” He presses off the back of the couch, and while that wasn’t exactly what I meant, I’m not about to turn him down.

My body is on board to have sex with my husband again.

+ + +

For the next ten days, Mach and I work beside one another as we did in the Chicago office. I’ve turned my Impact clients over to Amelia, but I linger some mornings while Mach talks to Tucker. Then we wander down to town and take up wherever we are needed. Myles has a team of volunteers as well as his crew and some construction help from friends in the industry who traveled to Wrightwood to work on our simultaneous projects.

Today, we finalize The Barber Shop. As I sent my sister pictures of the original place, Lindee helped me make some design decisions. Shadow boxes with Landon’s artifacts hang on the exposed brick walls over a new leather couch. We ordered two reproduction barber chairs to be set before individual drawers and large oval mirrors. Black and white tiles in a checkerboard pattern cover the floor. As the final touches are finished, Mach and I inspect the place.

“It’s really great,” Mach admits about the masculine vibe. To help Mach envision redesigning a store, I suggested he think of the space as a marketing display booth used at trade shows. As Mach is good at working with small spaces, The Barber Shop was ideal for his talent for making an area appealing and comfortable, thus drawing in potential customers.

Mach crosses the room and turns off the lights, then locks the front door. He steps over to the new blinds and runs his hand down the slats to close them.

I laugh. “What are you doing?”

He returns to where I stand behind a barber chair and takes my hand. “Let’s have a seat.” He circles one side of the barber chair while guiding me around the other side.

I anxiously chuckle again and repeat. “What are you doing?”

He takes a seat and leads me by my hips into the chair with him. He settles me on his lap, spreading my legs so mine fall outside of his. My back is to his front, and he meets my eyes through the reflection in the mirror.

“I don’t think this chair can hold both of us.” My voice is raspy and quiet.