The Reality of Wright and Wrong

by Leddy Harper

  “What’s the story behind your name? Where’d Mercy come from?” I crouched in front of her so that the water covered my shoulders, putting us face to face.

  She rolled her eyes, yet the smile that danced on her lips negated any irritation she sought to convey. “If you had to guess…what would it be?”

  I stared at her for a moment and contemplated all the reasons her parents would’ve given her such a name. “Your mom begged for mercy while she was in labor with you.”

  “You’re such a good guesser,” she said, humor coloring her tone.

  “Is that really the reason? Or are you just fucking with me?”

  “You’ll never know, will you, Brogan?” Not only did Mercy look innocent, but she acted and flirted like a good girl you’d bring home to meet your mom. And for someone like me, that was a dangerous trait to have. “Or should I call you Wrong?”

  My chest constricted so rapidly, so harshly that I lost the ability to breathe for a moment. The mere thought of her referring to me as wrong in any fashion—regardless of it being my nickname and everyone else under the sun calling me that—felt like a sledgehammer to my sternum. “No. Call me by my name.”

  Any sign of amusement in her expression fell away. Apprehension curled her shoulders and embarrassment caused her to lower her lashes, preventing me from seeing her eyes. I hated that she’d blocked me out. More than any other time since meeting her, this was the moment I needed to see them the most.

  “Mercy…” It was raspy and low, my throat unwilling to release her name for fear it’d slip away and I’d never get it back. But before I could say anything else, she lifted her gaze. And I stopped breathing for an entirely new reason.

  Two burning embers stared back at me, desperate and hungry for just one breeze to bring them back to life. Needing to ground myself, I grabbed ahold of her legs, behind her knees, and stepped between them. With her thighs against my hips, she gasped, and her eyes popped open wider. And those two dangerous, smoldering embers became two raging fires, ready to burn out of control.

  “Women call me Wrong because they climb into my bed thinking I’m Mr. Right, and then leave knowing I’m nothing but wrong for them. That’s why I want you to call me by my name. Call me Brogan. Not Wrong.”

  “Okay,” she breathed out. And after a few moments of pulling herself together, she cleared her throat, shifted so that I released her legs, and stood straighter, raising her shoulders above the surface. “If that’s why women call you Wrong, why do guys do it?”

  I shrugged and acted as if the loss of her touch didn’t affect me as much as it did. “Growing up, it was my nickname. Nonna was the only one who refused to use it. To my friends, I was Wrong Daniels. And when I took over my uncle’s shop, I named it Wrong Inc—with a C, like a play on words.” I shook my head, suddenly feeling ridiculous for the first time since coming up with the name. “Anyway, over the years, Wrong stuck, and eventually, that’s what everyone knew me as. And after the divorce, the name took on a new meaning for women.”

  “Do you know what I just thought of?” Her lips curved into an infectious grin, eyes bright and dancing in the light. “My last name is Wright. Your nickname is Wrong. Together, we’re right and wrong.”

  Damn… She fucking amazed me. The way she could change the subject as though she could read my mind was impressive. “If we get married, we should take your last name. Can you imagine how confused everyone would be if I was Wrong Wright?”

  “Oh, we’re getting married now?” The flirt was strong with this one…when she wanted it to be. And for fuck’s sake, I hoped she never stopped. “What’s next? You want me to have your babies?”

  “Of course. We can name them Always, Never, Rarely, Eventually, and Sometimes.”

  “Five kids?” Her eyes widened dramatically, her mouth falling open. No matter how surprised she tried to act, she couldn’t cover up the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips, or the amusement that sparkled like glitter in her irises.

  “At least. If you can come up with other words that go with Wright, we can add to that number. But it’s always best to start small. We’d make some good-looking babies. After the first one, you’ll be on me like cum stains on hotel bedspreads, begging for more until we have an entire litter.”

  Mercy laughed so hard I wasn’t sure she’d ever catch her breath.

  “You think I’m wrong?”

  “Well, aren’t you?”

  I rolled my eyes and splashed her. “Just watch, babe. By the end of the week, you’ll be professing your undying love for me. And if you’re lucky, I’ll take you to the airport so you can go home, get your shit, and come back.”

  “You wish.” She splashed me back and then turned around. With her elbows on the ledge, she pressed her forehead against the glass partition and attempted to peer over the side, following the water that cascaded over the edge. “Where does this go?”

  “Into the back yard.”

  She craned her head and regarded me with pinched brows. “Seriously?”

  “Want to see?” I waited for her subtle nod before taking her hand and pulling her away from the ledge. I led her out of the pool and around the corner to a spiral staircase that took us to the bottom floor on the backside of the garage. Not once did I let go of her hand.

  And not once did she let go of mine.

  As soon as we made it to the bottom of the stairs, the water falling from the pool echoed down the narrow hall. She gasped, which did nothing but speed up my already racing heart. And when the waterfall came into view, her grip tightened while her other hand came up to cover her gaping mouth.

  “This is… Oh my God, Brogan, this is beautiful.” Had we not been standing so close to each other, I probably wouldn’t have heard her soft words over the rushing water that crashed into the bed of rocks at our feet.

  “It goes over the edge of the pool and lands here,” I said while leaning my shoulder against the wall at the opening, pointing to the smooth, grey stones. “Beneath the rocks, there’s a drain that collects it and cycles it back through. The architect thought I was crazy when I asked for it, but eventually, he figured it out and got it done. It was one of the few things I demanded the house have when I had it built.”

  “What were the other things?”

  “I didn’t want to be seen from the road, and I wanted a basement, which—as you might know—isn’t something many houses have around here. Those two were easy once we found this land. Well, not necessarily easy, but they pretty much went hand in hand.”

  “What was so hard about it?”

  “They had to dig into the side of the hill and build the elevation a little. It was a pain in the ass, and we had to go in circles with the engineers. In the end, doing it the way we did allowed for this bottom level, which not only gave me a garage, but it also gave me a basement.”

  She followed my finger to the door a few feet away, painted the same gunmetal-grey as the walls and floor. Then she brought her attention back to the waterfall we stood behind. “I take it your shop does well, then. This had to have cost a fortune.”

  “I do well, and yes, building this house wasn’t cheap. But it was right after I left my wife, so I didn’t care about the price tag, just as long as it kept me occupied.” Which had turned out to be a mistake, but that wasn’t something Mercy needed to hear about.

  Hell, it wasn’t anything I wanted to think about.

  “So she never lived here with you?”

  It was an innocent question, brought on by my own statement. However, that didn’t mean I was interested in answering. So, I stepped around the corner of the wall and dragged her beneath the cascading water, hoping it would take her mind off my divorce, off the darkest moments of my life, and keep her attention right here. Right now. With me.

  To ensure that, I captured her face between my hands and brought my lips to hers. My goal wasn’t to fuck her out here. Only to redirect her thoughts. I hadn’t expected anything to come of it—especially from me.
But there I was, holding her half-naked body against mine, my bare chest to hers, our tongues dancing in tandem…and I never wanted to let her go.

  I’d heard and read about this kind of magnetic pull, the kind you only feel with one other person. The kind you can’t fight against no matter how hard you try. And while I used to believe I’d already felt it with someone else, someone who’d gotten away and taken my heart with her, I couldn’t deny how different this was. How much stronger.

  More powerful.

  More debilitating.

  More…everything.

  If kissing Mercy was the equivalent of two neodymium magnets coming together, then kissing Jessica would’ve been the same as sticking an advertising magnet to a fridge. No comparison.

  Needless to say, it scared the fuck out of me.

  And calmed my every fear all at the same time.

  Mercy pulled away first, though she didn’t move out of my arms. Her eyes, now darker than before—more chestnut than honey—searched mine. And if she saw what I did when looking into hers, then she would’ve seen my soul. All my hopes and dreams. My desires.

  Her gaze fell to my chest, where she had her hands, her fingers splayed across my pecs. And a second later, she was gone. She pushed away, out of my hold. Out from beneath the falling water. In that moment…I knew.

  Mercy had seen in my eyes what I’d seen in hers.

  “I…uh…” She turned toward the staircase. “I should probably go.”

  My feet wouldn’t move; I’d become rooted in place. There was a chance this was a sign that whatever power she had over me would drown me at the end of it all. “Where?”

  “Upstairs. I need to take a shower. And I’m tired. Maybe I’ll lay down for a nap.”

  I nodded, because there wasn’t anything else I could do.

  At least she wasn’t leaving.

  By some miracle, I made it to Sunday without Mercy taking off.

  This was now two mornings in a row that I’d woken up with stones in the pit of my stomach, anxiety eating away at me. I’d somehow convinced myself that she’d be gone. That I’d check her room and find it completely empty. And while I knew in my heart why that was, I refused to accept it. At least, not until I was sure she wouldn’t disappear.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have to go far to locate her. When I walked out of my room, I found her seated at the kitchen island with her phone in front of her. Her eyes met mine when I stepped closer, and when her lips curled into a hesitant grin, I felt like I could finally breathe again.

  “Be careful, babe. If you keep making coffee for me, I just might get used to it and never let you leave,” I teased as I grabbed the milk from the fridge.

  “You don’t have anything to worry about, baby.” She kept her eyes on her cell, though her smile grew wider, more confident. Less hesitant. Meanwhile, I nearly tripped at the sound of her calling me baby. “Having your children will ensure I don’t go anywhere.”

  After the awkwardness that had followed us around yesterday, this banter was exactly what I needed. Kissing her had been instinct, though I never stopped to think about the possibility of it pushing her away. So witnessing her flirtatious side this morning calmed my worries and set my soul at ease. “I see you’re coming around to the idea. What changed your mind so quickly?”

  Her whiskey eyes shone like a beacon of light when she lifted her gaze and smirked, coffee mug poised just below her glossy lips. “The thought of naming one of them Mommy’s.”

  It took a great deal of effort to keep a stern face. And even more to slow the blood rushing south at the thought of knocking her up—because that would mean I’d know what she felt like wrapped around my cock. “You’d have a sixth kid just to name it Mommy’s Wright? Does that mean we get to have a seventh and name it Daddy’s?”

  “How about we compromise?” The twinkle in her eye should’ve clued me in to what would come next. “We have two kids and name them Mommy’s Always, and Daddy’s Never.”

  “Yeah…that’s not going to work for me.”

  She laughed, but it quickly fell flat the second her phone lit up. Without needing to read the question in my eyes, she said, “He’s supposed to be picking me up from the airport today.” She lifted her attention to me and pointed to her phone. “This is his third message this morning.”

  “Have you responded?”

  “No. He thinks I’m asleep.”

  “Is this the first time he’s reached out since you got to town?” I’d purposely stayed away from asking about him. I wasn’t excited by the idea of her thinking about the asshole who’d cheated on her, so I’d kept my mouth shut, hoping she’d bring it up if she wanted to talk about it.

  Mercy closed her eyes, released a long sigh, and nodded. “Technically, he texted me Friday night. It was when we were in here eating eggs, so I didn’t see it until I went to bed. But I didn’t respond. I was supposed to be busy with a fundraiser all day yesterday, which was why I originally couldn’t fly in until today. But I managed to get out of it and switched my flights. Not hearing from him yesterday wasn’t surprising; he tends to leave me alone when he knows I’m busy.”

  I couldn’t imagine any reason to go an entire day without speaking to Mercy…if she were mine, that is. “What’s he saying now?”

  “Nothing important—what time he’ll be at the airport, how many houses he has lined up to look at this week, and this last one is making sure I remember my hoodie.” A sad smile crept along her lips. “He always keeps his place super cold, so no matter how hot it is outside, I wear jackets in the house.”

  My first thought was why she didn’t just keep one there, but I decided against asking that. I didn’t really care to carry on a lengthy conversation about her relationship with him. “Are you going to respond? Tell him you aren’t coming? Anything?”

  “I don’t know. If he’s saying all this, that means he hasn’t seen the ring. And I don’t know why he hasn’t, considering I left it on the table next to the front door. That’s where he puts his keys when he walks in. And it’s not like there’s anything else on the table for it to get hidden behind.”

  “So you’re just going to let him go to the airport and wait on you for hours?”

  She shrugged, and I had to admit that the idea of her fucking with this guy almost made me hard. Then she dropped her head into her hands with a groan and said, “I don’t know what to do, Brogan. Tell me what I should do.”

  On any other day, with any other person, I would’ve told them that it wasn’t my place to tell anyone what to do with their own lives. But not this time. “Block his number so you don’t see his calls or texts. Because once he realizes your plane landed and you weren’t on it, he will call you.” At least, any sane man would.

  Then again…a sane man wouldn’t have cheated on her.

  “What if he thinks something happened to me?”

  “I doubt the first call he makes would be to the cops to report a missing person. So, who would he call first when he realizes you didn’t come?”

  “Either my parents or my best friend.”

  “Okay then, call them and let them know what’s going on.”

  “I’m not ready to tell my parents about it. And if I tell Stella what he did, she’ll get stabby. I don’t need that right now.”

  “Can’t you just tell them you’re all right? So when what’s-his-face calls looking for you, they aren’t worried?” To keep myself busy, I began to pull shit out of the fridge. I had no idea what I’d make, but at least I wasn’t just standing there, staring at her while trying to convince her to cut off all communication with this asshole.

  No need to look as desperate as I felt.

  Her smile caught me by surprise—not because she didn’t often do it, but because it was flirtatious, and with the current topic, it seemed to come out of nowhere. “I see through you, Mr. Daniels.”

  “It’s Mr. Wright to you…and what do you see?”

  She tucked her chin to her chest and giggled. And i
t took every ounce of willpower to keep from rounding the island and tasting her laughter on my tongue. “You want me to tell everyone I’m okay, so when you hack me up into little pieces and bury my remains in the forest out back, no one will come looking for me.”

  I twisted around to pull a piece of paper and pen out of the junk drawer behind me. After scribbling a couple lines on the blue sticky note, I made my way to her, caged her in with my arms on either side, palms flat on the granite. Bare chest against her warm back. And lowered my lips to her ear. “I have no desire to bury you out back. If anything, I’m dying to bury my cock in you…but that’s a topic for another time.”

  Her sharp gasp brought a smile to my face.

  I pushed away, uncovering the note I’d stuck to the counter next to her phone. “That’s my address. If you plan to stay here—which I hope you do—give that to them, so they at least know where you are.” Then I went back to the random ingredients next to the stove, hoping like hell she hadn’t taken me seriously…unless she wanted the same thing.

  Mercy didn’t say anything else while she tapped away on her phone. She also didn’t make eye contact with me. However, the vermillion tint to her cheeks and apparent strain on her lips were enough to reassure me that it wasn’t a bad thing.

  “There. Done.” She set down the phone and leaned on the counter with her elbows, spine curved forward, shoulders curled in. Defeat wasn’t a good look on her. “Now, to wait for the hundred questions that’ll surely come from either my parents or Stella—more than likely both.”

  I wanted nothing more than to get her mind off the situation. As well as learn as much about her as I could before I lost my chance. “Are you close to your parents? Do you think they’ll give you a hard time about staying with me?”

  “Yes, and yes. Which is why I didn’t tell them I was with you. I gave that information to my best friend. Because, no matter how close I am with my parents, it could be days before they realize I’m missing. By then, you’ll have the entire crime scene cleaned up. But Stella…we talk every day. She’ll know something’s up if I go silent for more than a few hours.”