CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
You’re being awfully quiet back there. What’re you thinking about?”
Mack’s question startled me out of my reverie and reminded me I was sitting way too high up off the earth. My body tensed for a few seconds before I could get a grip on myself again. “Nothing.” Better to just let it lie, right? Sometimes the truth just needs to stay in darkness. The problem was that it felt like if I hid the truth from everyone, I’d be hiding myself there too, and I wasn’t a fan of the dark.
“I don’t believe that for a second. I get the feeling you’re always thinking about something.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked, trying to turn the tables over to safer topics.
He glanced back at me. “About how bad I want to see you naked again.”
My face pinked up. “Be serious.”
“I am being serious.” He turned to face front so I was looking at his broad back once more. “That’s not all I’m thinking, but it’s high on the list.”
I sighed, sad because I wanted to see him naked again too, and in the light of day for a change, but that would be stupid. Sex would only complicate things more. “We’re not going to do that again, okay? The two times we’ve done it were both mistakes.”
“Two times? Boy, you’re not very good with math, are you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, according to my math, it’s more like five or six. Not that I was counting or anything.”
“What? You’re crazy.” I wondered what else I’d forgotten from that night, other than the wedded-by-Elvis part.
“Believe me, I don’t forget things like that.”
I snorted. “Right. How many women have you been with?”
He twisted around and grinned. “You jealous?”
“No.” Maybe. Yes.
He shrugged. “Not many. I’m picky.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He stopped his horse. My horse kept going until it was next to his.
“It’s true,” he said in a more serious tone. “I don’t sleep with just any girl.”
“You slept with Hannah.” It was a total shot in the dark, but I waited breathlessly for his response.
“No, I did not.” He sounded offended. “Who told you that? I’ve never slept with that girl, nor would I ever.”
I shrugged. “I heard it in town somewhere.”
His jaw was set and hard as he stared off ahead of his horse. I figured I’d already gotten him upset once, might as well go all the way.
“You slept with Ginny.” Another shot in the dark. This one right into the heart.
Mack kicked his horse and it took off running, leaving me and my horse behind. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate it, because she took off right after them. She didn’t go as fast, but the pace was accelerated enough to cause me to turn into a bouncing piece of human popcorn on the saddle. My butt slapped the leather seat over and over, making the most embarrassing sound . . . Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! My yell came out with every bump telegraphed in it. “Ah-uh-ah-uh-ah-uh-ahhhhh! Mack! Wait-uh-ay-uh-ayyyyt!” My teeth clacked together when I stopped talking, giving me a headache.
I whap-whap-whapped my butt around a windy trail, through a cover of trees, and out into a blindingly bright meadow full of wildflowers before we finally slowed. Mack was standing still again, his horse just on the outside of the field. He slid down off the back of the animal and started unbuckling some packs that were strapped to the back part of his saddle. My horse drew up next to his and then dropped her head sharply, jerking the reins out of my hands.
I stared at him, wondering if he really had slept with his brother’s fiancée. I really hadn’t thought it was the truth, and I don’t know why I said it. But his reaction made me doubly curious, and it also made me wonder if I’d misjudged him. He didn’t seem the type to do something like that . . . something like I had done by sleeping with him while engaged to Bradley. God, I’m such a terrible person. Why would he want to be with me? Is it because he’s a cheater too? The very idea made me sick for some weird reason. I wanted him to be a better person than me.
“You can get down now if you like,” he said, not looking at me.
“I’d love to,” I said sarcastically.
He stopped what he was doing and stared up at me with stormy eyes. “So what’s stopping you?”
“The two-story drop to my death.” I looked pointedly at the ground.
He went back to his unpacking, ignoring me entirely. I gritted my teeth together as I watched him pull out a thick blanket and then a few brown bags with things in them I couldn’t see. It looked like a picnic that would be much better enjoyed on the ground.
My horse took a few steps forward, her head staying down so she could yank up a mouthful of grass. Mack busied himself with putting out the blanket and setting things down on it. I held onto the saddle horn for a while but eventually gave up on waiting for his help. Leaning over the front of the saddle while hanging on to the horn at my chest for dear life, I swung my right leg over the back of the horse and slid down its side to the ground.
Surprisingly, I landed on my feet and not my butt, which was a good thing, considering how sore it was at the moment.
I walked out into the field and left him behind, feeling a little lost and alone over the idea that he wasn’t as perfect as I’d built him up to be in my mind. When I got halfway in, I stopped and looked around. Butterflies flitted among the petals of the wild flowers at my feet and beyond. Birds chirped in the nearby trees. Dandelion fluff or something soft and white floated in the air. My sense of wonder was complete. If fairies existed, they would definitely live in this place.
Footsteps crunched and swished behind me, but they were of the two-legged variety, so I didn’t look back. Mack stopped at my side, staring out into the flowers with me.
“I brought a picnic.”
“I saw that.” My throat was sore from unshed tears. I refused to cry over a guy who hadn’t measured up to my impossibly high standards. Even if he was my husband.
“I didn’t sleep with Ginny either.”
“That’s nice. For Ian.” I hid my relief well, letting out a long breath in a very quiet stream through my nose. He wasn’t a cheater. Why that mattered to me—a cheater myself—made no sense . . . but there it was.
“But I did cause them to break up.”
I turned to look at him. His expression was nothing less than tortured.
“What happened?” Now instead of feeling angry or relieved, I just felt sad for him. It was clear this had hurt.
He cast his eyes down, his hands hanging loosely from his front pockets. “When we went to Vegas and I pretty much disappeared all night with you, it got the guys pretty pissed off. They looked for me all night, I found out later. When we got back, the story got told around town that I’d disappeared and they’d all assumed it was with a woman.”
“What’s that got to do with Ginny?”
“I’m getting to that.” He sighed, looking off into the distance. “Ginny was at a store in town and overheard someone talking about how Ian’s bachelor party was a bust because one of the guys disappeared with some woman and caused a big fuss. She asked who they were talking about and no one could tell her.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d sworn them all to secrecy. They did it—kept their mouths shut—for me. Mostly shut anyway.”
“What? I’m sorry, but I’m completely lost. Are we still talking about Ginny?”
He sighed heavily. “Yes, in a roundabout way, we are. What happened is that the guys found me in the lobby, where I was waiting for you, and they took me to get our stuff, and we went home. On the way back, I told them everything and made them swear not to tell a soul. I wanted to surprise our parents when I introduced you.” His voice got rough at the end.
“I don’t get it. I’m sorry, Mack. I know I sound like an idiot, and I sure feel like one, but I think I’m missing parts of the story.”
He looked at me, his expression tortured. “You really don’t remember?”
“No, I swear to God, I don’t.” I put my hand in his large one, holding it gently. “I’m sure it’s not because I wasn’t really feeling whatever it was I was feeling at the time. I just . . . drank way too much, I think.”
He nodded once, walking back toward the horses and pulling me along with him gently. I tried to take my hand back, but he just held on tighter.
“Do you want me to tell you the story the way I remember it? Start to finish?”
“Yes,” I said, “please do that. And what I remember, I’ll fill in too.” The anticipation of learning the truth was great, but so was the fear that I wasn’t going to like what I heard.