Why Now? (4 page)

“Hell, man, I don’t know how you do it. Don’t you go crazy out there?” He asks.

My first year out there, I didn’t have time to think about myself. It was a whole new world and the work was so intense I crashed every night and didn’t budge until my next shift. Money was the only thing I thought about and the oilrig was the only legal way I could make what I needed.

The isolation of living on the oilrig didn’t hit me until my first Christmas there. It was more than being hundreds of miles away from home; it was my first Christmas without Gram and Gramps, without the man and woman who raised me. No matter how big my ego got, my Gramps had no problem reminding me my shit still stunk just like everybody else’s.

I didn’t only want to be home, I wanted them to be there too. Sure, I have a jacked up semblance of a family on the rig, but it isn’t the same. A few of the guys knew I played ball and was destined for the NFL but they could give a rat’s ass about it. As far as they were concerned, I was no better than any of them and turns out they were right.

I wasn’t only homesick for a place, but for the people who made that place a home. Once I got it through my thick skull there was no going back, I stopped dwelling on the shit I couldn’t change. Time is a strange thing living as isolated as we do. Each time I’m off the rig I feel like Rip Van Winkle and a hundred years have passed by, and all I did was take a nap.

My baby sister is twenty-eight years old. Fuck, I’m thirty-four. When the hell did that happen?

“You can get used to anything after a while,” I mutter.

He makes no response so I finish my beer.

“I’m going to meet up with Reils for dinner. Want to come with?” I ask, tossing my bottle into his bin for recycling.

He frowns. “You sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

Smirking, I reply, “Don’t be a dumbass. Besides, I think your fiancée is coming.” He makes no argument to this and finishes his beer.

He looks away, his cheeks getting red. “You heard.”

“I talked to Reilly while I was on the train. You can tell me all about it while we walk over to the pizza place.”

Over the past twenty years, the pizza place in town has changed hands no fewer than six times, maybe seven. I’ve lost count. The whole town got sick of remembering a new name every couple of years that we, as a whole, all gave up and started calling it the pizza place.

“How much did Reilly tell you?” He asks once we’re on the sidewalk.

“She said things aren’t looking good for your mom so you asked Kacey to marry you so she could see you settled before . . .” I trail off.

He gulps and does it for me, “Before she dies.”

“Are you sure it’s that bad?” I ask.

Glumly, he nods. “My dad contacted hospice this week. Before that . . . before that, I never thought, I didn’t think. Fuck, man.”

I pat his back, a tightness filling my chest. I don’t know what’s worse. When Gram passed, it was a shock. One minute she was there, and then she had an aneurysm and was gone. Gramps couldn’t deal. We were still reeling from her death when his heart went. Mrs. Mackey has been sick for years.

Before she got sick, I had a massive crush on her when we were in middle school and our freshman year of high school. I’ve always made a point to visit her on my trips here. It’s been awful watching her waste away. Sure, Heath gets to spend time with her and they all get to cherish their last moments together. Nothing like how my Gram went. Still, I’m not sure which is a worse way of dying.

“That’s a shame. Your mom is one heck of a good woman, she still well enough for visitors? I’d like to see her while I’m in town.”

His voice is thick when he replies, “She’d like that. She always liked you.”

“No accounting for taste,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

He gives a halfhearted laugh. “You always had a way with women.”

All I can do is nod. It’s pointless to tell him all of that attention meant nothing. A way with women, fuck, what the hell does that even mean? They never wanted me. They only wanted what they thought they saw in me. Sad thing is, what they saw and who I was were never the same thing.

There’s a bell over the door of the pizza place that jingles every time it opens. Without fail, I always look up out of curiosity. It’s Heath and redness hits my cheeks when his eyes find mine. Heath Mackey, my fiancé.

I still can’t believe I said yes.

It is without a doubt the craziest thing I’ve ever done. My gaze moves down to my ring finger. There, for all the world to see is his grandmother’s engagement ring. At work today, the whole office freaked out when they saw it. It was the strangest thing. I’ve worn rings before, even on that finger, yet no one has ever noticed them.

Everyone noticed this ring. It’s not that it’s a giant rock or anything. It’s simple, classic. A perfect fit.

When Heath took me over to tell his mother and ask for the ring, Mrs. Mackey cried, which made me cry. We sat on each side of her as she held my hand and cupped his cheek with her other hand, her eyes solely on him.

“I could not have dreamed of a better wife for you, Heathcliff,” she had said.

He hadn’t cried, but watching him sniffle and blink while his eyes softly held his mama’s was my undoing. It’s a side of Heath I never knew. Even though I’m still scared we’re making a mistake, seeing him that way made me think that, maybe, we could learn to love each other.

Shyly, I smile at him. He flashes me a grin before looking over his shoulder and holding the door for the person coming in behind him.

I do a slow blink when I see who it is.

Jake Whitmore is here.

No!

Why?

How?

My gaze shifts to Reilly. She looks guilty.

There’s no time to call her out on it. Heath and Jake are heading our way.

She stands, her face splitting in a wide grin; she opens her arms wide as she calls, “Jake!”

Reilly is tall but Jake is TALL. His bear hug easily dwarfs her. Like an addiction I’ll never shake, I drink him in.

Over the years, his looks have changed. Before he worked on the oilrig, his hair had a messy bad boy quality to it. Now he keeps it buzzed short. My fingertips itched to run over his scalp, or maybe his neck.

Is it possible to have a sexy neck?

The answer is yes because Jake Whitmore had a sexy as hell neck. It was thick, but not in a way that made it disappear like those weightlifters whose necks disappear the bigger their muscles get. Just the thought of muscles drew my eyes to his chest and his arms. He was solid, so incredibly solid. He had a way of making my belly flip without even saying a word.

Part of me thought that another man’s ring on my finger would lessen the pull he had over me. A year ago, I would have stood and patiently waited in line for my hug.

A year ago, I would have tried to convince myself that the way he hugged me was different from the way he hugged Reilly, even though it wasn’t. A year ago, I still loved him. A year ago, and every year before that, it killed me that he hugged me like a little sister.

A year ago, I decided to stop pathetically throwing myself at him.

I haven’t hugged him since, even though I wanted to. What other way will I ever fall out of love with him? I make no move to stand.

Releasing her, Jake’s face turns to look at me. “Hey, Killer.”

Heat hits my cheek at his nickname for me and all of the memories come back to me.

Lifting my chin and praying my voice doesn’t shake I reply. “Hi, Jake. I didn’t know you were in town.”

Instantly, I regret my words and their implication that I should be aware of his movements. His response is lost on me as I look away.

Heath comes to stand at the opening of my booth. Shifting toward the wall, I move to make room for him.

He surprises me by murmuring, “Hey, Kace,” before leaning toward me and kissing my cheek.

I had been mid motion, turning my face Heath’s lips hit my cheek stopping me from turning any further. When he lifts his head, I lock eyes with Jake as Heath slides in next to me.

The pride I had felt all week in knowing that Heath wanted me to be his wife faltered. Feeling a piece of my heart crumple, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering why I was never good enough for Jake.

Reilly moves back into her side of the booth as Jake slides in next to her. Our waitress comes right over to take our order, and it hits me then that she waited for Heath and Jake to show to do that.

“Why didn’t you tell me Heath and your brother were joining us?” I ask Reilly, trying to not sound overly accusatory.

Giving me innocent eyes, she replies, “I didn’t know Heath was coming and I wasn’t sure Jake was going to make it.”

Jake lifts a brow but it’s Heath who speaks. “Jake told me he was having dinner with Reilly and asked if I wanted to tag along.”

“Yeah,” Jake drawls. “Didn’t know I was going to be a surprise.”

Reilly changes the subject. “Kacey, show Jake your engagement ring.”

It takes physical effort to keep my mouth from dropping open.

Show Jake my ring?

Show. Jake. My. Ring.

Heath reaches for my hand, the one that had been safely resting on my thigh, and stretches it across the table to present it to Jake. In horror, I watch as Jake lifts his hand, taking my hand from Heath.

The pads of his fingertips brush against the sensitive underside of my hand, tilting it as he lowers his face to get a closer look at my ring.

His face is close enough for his breath to caress my knuckles.

Too close.

I tug my hand back and I’m surprised by the brief resistance of him not letting go of it.

“It was my grandmother’s ring,” Heath proudly adds, not seeming to notice the tension now at the table.

Reilly leans into Jake. If she noticed the way he held onto my hand she doesn’t say.

She looks up at him. “I missed you.”

He shifts to wrap his arm around her shoulders. “I missed you too, kid.”

Being an only child, I envied their relationship growing up. Aren’t they supposed to bug each other? Sibling rivalry and all that?

Not Reilly and Jake, though. There were times when they annoyed each other but it never lasted long. Could being so young when their parent’s died have made them that way?

Reilly has no memories of either of her parents, only pictures. Whether Jake remembers them or not I don’t know.

They moved in with their grandparents after that. Looking around the table, it strikes me that in a few months Heath will be part of the having lost a parent club.

My dad is still alive so I don’t have it as bad as Reilly and Jake. Not that it matters, my dad has been a living ghost ever since the day my mom died.

Heath got to have both a mom and dad see him finish school. They got to see him settle into his own place and land a good job. The fact that getting married before Mrs. Mackey passes is so important to him shows what a good mom she was.

“Ace?” Heath asks.

I blink. Shit, I zoned out there. Flushing, I notice that I’ve been randomly staring at Jake while Heath was trying to talk to me.

I quickly turn my face towards his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear your question.”

He frowns at me. “It wasn’t my question. Reilly asked you if you had anything planned for Saturday night.”

My gaze moves to her and I shake my head. “No, not that I know of.”

“Great. Then Jake and Heath are coming over to hang out at our place.”

What?

A year ago, I would have promised my first born to have Jake come hang out at our place. In the couple of times that he’s come to town in the last year, I’ve done my best to make myself scarce.

The last time, I took time off from work and went to Arizona. At the time, Reilly thought I was crazy. She didn’t believe me when I told her my trip had been planned for ages and it must have slipped my mind to tell her about it.

“Bullshit,” she had said.

She was right.

“Fun,” I murmur, halfheartedly.

No one remarks on my lack of enthusiasm. After we finish eating Jake and Heath argue over who will pay. Reilly annoys both of them by slipping off “to go to the bathroom” and pays for all of us herself.

She’s sneaky like that.

Heading home, Heath and I walk in front of Jake and Reilly. I only looked back at Jake once, right when Heath decided to drape his arm across my shoulders to tuck me into his side.

The gesture should make me feel desired and special. Instead, Jake being witness to it makes it feel like the lie it is.

If only he would leave. Before he got here, I had convinced myself this thing with Heath and I could work. Now my brain is all jumbled and I can’t think straight. Why does he have to ruin everything?

“Want to come in for a bit?” I quietly ask Heath.

He hesitates before shaking his head. “It’s Jake’s first night here. It’d be a dick move to make him go back to my place alone.”

“He can hang out with Reilly,” I argue.

“Did I hear my name?” Reilly asks from behind us.

Darn her and her sensitive ears.

“Kacey asked if I wanted to come up but I didn’t want to ditch Jake. She said he could hang out with you.”