“You’d do that?” Charlie asked. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to see you make a fool out of yourself. We’ll hang out. The 49ers are playing on Monday night. Is there a sports bar around here?”
“There’s Shooters just east of town.”
“All right. I’ll meet you there on Monday night. We’ll have a few beers, talk to a few women and see where it goes.”
“You’ll be my wingman,” Charlie said, grinning. “That’s been my problem all along. No wingman.”
Charlie left the banner sitting on the counter. It was still there when J.J. came in through the shop door. He stopped and stared at it, then winced, shaking his head. “Charlie again?”
“I talked him out of it,” Mac explained.
J.J. seemed surprised. “That guy is like a terrier with a bone. He once decided that he was going to get on that show Gladiator Games. He trained for three years. By the time he was ready, the show had been canceled. Charlie has the worst luck. That’s why people avoid him. They’re afraid it might rub off on them.”
“I’m just going to distract the guy for a while. Give him some good advice and maybe find him a different girl.”
J.J. gave Mac a dubious look. “You’re fixin’ to steal his girl away.”
“Emma is not his girl.”
“That’s not what most people in town believe. Most folks around here are all for the match.”
“You didn’t mention that she was a virgin,” Mac said.
J.J. shook his head. “Why should that make a difference to you?”
“It doesn’t,” Mac said. “It’s just something most guys would want to know.” He cursed beneath his breath. This was suddenly getting far too complicated. Too many people had a stake in his relationship with Emma. Mac had always preferred to keep his social and sexual life simple. It made for easier exits. And he’d be the first person to admit that he never wanted to stick around for long.
He was all too familiar with the consequences. There would be questions—about his parents, his family, his background. Where was he born? What were his parents’ names? What about grandparents? So many questions that he didn’t have answers for.
For any other man, that might have made a difference. But for Luke MacKenzie—or whatever his name really was—he’d put those questions aside. He’d determined at a young age to let the past go, to focus purely on the present.
Hell, it made for a much happier life. The past was all about mistakes and regrets, lost opportunities and broken promises. And the future? Well, that was about goals and dreams and aspirations. All those things just out of a guy’s reach.
It was, and always would be about the present for Mac. He knew all too well that life could change in a split second. Dreams could be shattered and the future turned upside down. His mind flashed an image of that night, of the empty motel room and the police cars outside. So many questions and never any answers.
So he lived for pleasure and adventure, excitement and spontaneity. He never knew what the new day would bring, but Mac was always determined to make the best of it.
“Any idea how to work this computer?” Mac asked, turning to J.J.
“Yeah,” the mechanic said. “What’s the problem?”
“I have to enter these time slips and fuel receipts to generate an invoice and I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.”
J.J. grabbed the stack of notes. “It would take me longer to explain than it would to do the invoices,” he said. “I can take care of it.”
“Are you sure?”
“No problem,” J.J. said.
“Can you keep an eye on the front desk? I have something I need to do.”
“I have to leave in an hour. We have some final work on the set before the show tonight. You still planning on coming?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Mac said. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” J.J. joked. “I’m not that good.”
Mac chuckled and clapped J.J. on the back. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
Mac walked out into the hangar and pulled open the passenger door of his plane. It was the closest thing he had to a home. Mac crawled through to the tail, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. He took the small tin box out and sat down on a crate, pulling off the lid in the light of day.
The rusty tin held all that was left of his old life—his only clues to his past. He picked up the larger of the two wedding bands and stared down at it, then slipped it on his finger. Marriage had never been a part of his future. Until he had a past, he couldn’t have a future. But how did one go about finding ghosts? The police had tried and failed.
Did he even want to find them? Wouldn’t it simply be easier to know nothing? And why did it make a difference now?
Mac closed his eyes. Emma. For some reason, she made him think about the future, made him question his past.
But why? He’d met her only a few days ago. There had to be a reason for this unreasonable attraction. Some quality that had captured his attention. It wasn’t her virginity. Had he been aware of that, he would have run in the opposite direction. Charlie was right—there were too many expectations.
And yet, the news hadn’t changed his interest in her. Emma was smart and beautiful and vulnerable and strong. She was the kind of woman who needed a partner to help her navigate the world, yet would never admit she couldn’t do everything alone. But was he that man?
Mac slipped the wedding ring off his finger and held it up to the light. His gaze focused on the inside of the ring. “For Benjamin, with love,” he read.
Who the hell was Benjamin and what was Mac doing with his wedding ring?
Mac tossed the ring back into the box. Probing the past was too dangerous. He’d been right before. It was better to live in the present.
* * *
“I’M READY,” EMMA SAID, holding the phone to her ear. “I’ve been going over it in my head all day long and I’m ready.”
“This is a dinner date,” Trish said, her voice crackling over the connection. “Not the D-Day Invasion.”
“I realize that. But I have to have a plan, don’t you think? We’ll have dinner, we’ll discuss the book, have a little wine and then, sometime around dessert, I’ll make my proposition.”
“I thought you guys were going to see Oklahoma.”
“I hope that’s just his backup plan, in case the date is a real disaster.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t plan too much. Just let it happen,” Trish said. “You know, organically.”
“And here I was thinking I’d just force the issue up front and forget about the date entirely.” Emma stood in front of the mirror and studied her reflection critically. “Why is this so complicated?”
“It isn’t. Thousands of couples go out on first dates. And hundreds of them go home afterward and have wild monkey sex without suffering even the tiniest twinge of guilt. You bought condoms, didn’t you?”
“Four different kinds,” Emma said. “I had to drive all the way into Petaluma to get them. You should have seen the look I got from the clerk. I think she assumed I was going to an orgy.” Emma groaned. “I have to go.