Page 6 of Riding Mr. Right
My heart slams against my chest and my palms turn to puddles of sweat.
“Apologies?”I’m playing dumb. Apologies are in order, but I want to know what he’s going to say.
“I surprised you earlier. I should’ve thought that out and been more calculating. I’m sorry.”
Wrong apology.Though, I guess I can’t expect a man who ran away from his family to get what I might be feeling.
“Yeah, that’s not really what I’m upset about.” The words come out with more of a bite than I’m expecting. “Truthfully, I’d love a play-by-play on how you know me.”
He sighs and clears his throat before pouring us each a glass of wine. The label is from a local winery on the mountain, Black Cedar. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother. She was a good woman.”
So good that you abandoned us both?That’s what I want to say. Instead, I sip the sweet wine and nod. “She spent most of her life struggling, so you know… she was a nurse’s aide at a local hospital. She worked for barely over minimum wage, and she worked hard. Alone, and hard.” I guess I meant the bite that time.
“She didn’t deserve to struggle. I’m sorry.”
There’s no doubting the empathy in his eyes, but I ignore it in favor of more sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I’m failing to understand how any of this computes. If you knew I existed, why didn’t you reach out?”
He looks away and lines appear on his face where there hadn’t been any before. Behind him, the table of men all eat and talk jovially. All of them, except Brick. Brick’s eyes are on me, studying, watching, observing as though he’s waiting for a sign to step in.
“Your mother and I met twenty years ago at a party in the Springs.” He smiles as though he’s reminiscing. “She was full of fire and challenged me like no one else. That very night she made me recite my five-year plan.”
“Oh yeah. Mom loved her five-year plans.”
He laughs. “She sure did. And according to your mom, mine was shit. That didn’t stop us from spending nearly a month together, though.” His gaze meets mine as he sips his wine. “You’ve never heard these stories?”
I shake my head. “She talked about a proverbial man that she had a relationship with, but never with any detail. What happened?”
“We spent a few incredible weeks together, and I realized I needed to make a new plan for myself. One that meant we could be together. So, when my leave was up and it was time to report back to my platoon, I started telling everyone that I was going to seek an honorable discharge. I thought I’d go out and make something of myself, that didn’t involve being away all the time. That after this last tour, I’d come back and be the man she deserved.” He takes another sip of wine before taking a deep breath. “The problem came when I was back out in the field. I tried to write and keep up with her, but the distance was so hard. We had a fledgling relationship that couldn’t take the stress, so we flamed out. And maybe it was my youthful bitterness for forcing a release from the only job I’d ever known for her, that when I finally got out and we hadn’t talked in months, I broke all ties.”
“So she didn’t tell you about me?”
He blows out another heavy breath. “No, sweetheart, she didn’t. Your mom had become simply a fond memory of passion in my youth, until I heard from her right before she passed. She said you were in college for horticulture, and that you wanted a farm. That’s when she sent me all your information and asked me to look out for you.”
“Wait, what?” The knots that were in my stomach earlier come back again. “No. She’d have told me if she reached out to you.”
“She didn’t want you to worry or overcomplicate things. I think she thought it would be easier to let me come to you. I’m sorry it’s taken me some time since I found out. I,” he pauses and looks away, “I was afraid of what you’d say after all these years.”
I get where he’s coming from because I’ve had the same concerns, but for some reason, hearing him say it doesn’t sit right. He’s older than me. He has more life experience. “Why didn’t you come to her funeral?”
His brows raise. “I did.”
Blood pops against my veins. “You were at her funeral? You knew I needed support…” My voice shakes as I say, “Sheaskedyou to support me but you just what, looked at me from a distance and ignored the fact that my only living relative was gone?”
He reaches out his hand, but I pull away. A reasonable person would probably listen to his response. They’d take the time to understand his point of view. I always thought I was reasonable. Now, I realize I’m not.
I push back from the table, overwhelmed with emotion. The room is spinning, my heart is pounding, and I swear my eyeballs are sweating. I toss my napkin down before I’ve taken a single bite. “Thank you for the meal. I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’ve lost my appetite.”
Arnie stands to come after me, but I feel Brick’s heavy frame behind me before I get to the door. Yet another moment I’m thankful for his presence. I want to get lost with him, disappear, and let him touch me until I forget this day ever happened.
“I’ve got it from here.” His voice is deep and raspy, anchoring me back to center as his hand sweeps across my back.
My face burns and I can’t breathe. I look up toward Brick, lost and confused. Angry, yet desperate to be held all at once. “I need you to help me forget about this. Do you have a room here?”
His brows narrow down on mine. “I do, but we should talk first. What happened?”
I land my hand in his and move it over my hip as I stare up at him. “I don’t want to talk, Brick. I want you to touch me.”
Chapter Four