Page 77 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

Melanie looked horrified at the idea. “But there’s nothing wrong with my Honda,” she protested.

“I didn’t say there was, except that it’s always bothered me that you skimped on the remote start and the heated seats. Those aren’t a luxury in Indiana, Mel. They’re practically a necessity.”

“Oh, they are not. Someone is just a little spoiled,” she chided.

“And someone deserves to be spoiled a little,” I said pointedly, then tapped her on the end of her nose, which was turning red from the cold.

“It’s freezing out here. Let’s park by the sales office and go inside. I texted her from the restaurant, so Deanna should be waiting for us.”

The salesperson I had met with at lunchtime greeted us eagerly, directing us to her desk where she had the paperwork all laid out for me. It didn’t take long to look it all over and sign on the dotted line before I headed back out to collect my sunglasses and the few personal items I had in the glove compartment of the Corvette, along with the carryout container with Mel’s baklava in it. With one last pat on the buttery leather seat, I handed the key fobs over to her, and she handed me the check from her finance manager to cover the difference in the trade-in value.

Mel was quiet as I escorted her out and opened the passenger door of the new truck with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits,” I joked.

She flashed me a bemused smile, then took my hand to steady herself as she stepped up on the running board and settled into the seat.

I shut the door after her, then hustled around and jumped into the driver’s seat. The leather seats molded to me, and they were definitely nice. Not quite as nice as those in the car that Deanna was currently driving around to the back of the lot, but still not bad at all.

Melanie fastened her seat belt and adjusted the seat a bit, then finally broke her silence. “You didn’t have to do this to prove to me that you’ve changed.”

“That’s not why I did it. I told you that the Corvette has some negative memories attached to it now. I feel that it was time for a change.”

“That’s still not how those statements work.”

“Doesn’t mean that what I said isn’t true,” I pointed out with a grin. “Let’s take this baby for a spin before I drop you off at your car.”

We rode around in spacious comfort for the next twenty minutes. Melanie took charge of setting all the preset buttons for my favorite radio stations. I tended to just add them as I came across one I liked, which always drove her insane. “How do you ever find the one you want when they’re just programmed all willy-nilly,” she would grumble every single time she rode in my old truck.

Melanie was methodical as she added them in numerical order of the stations’ channel numbers, and I had to smile. I loved the orderly way she went about things, and the way she wrinkled her nose when she was concentrating intently on a task, as she was now, was absolutely adorable.

Her SUV was the only vehicle left in the parking lot, and I told her to wait in the truck while I started it for her. She tried to protest but handed over her key fob when it was clear that she wasn’t going to win that argument.

I settled into her driver’s seat and shivered when I could feel the icy cold leather through the denim of my jeans.

“She literally freezes her ass off in this car,” I grumbled as I fired up the engine and adjusted the heater to the highest setting.

I left it to warm up, then slipped back into my truck, rubbing my hands together to ward off the chill. “Let’s give it a few minutes before you get in,” I told her when she reached for the door handle.

She sat back in the seat, then smiled at me and thanked me for starting her car for her.

“Maybe I should think about having one of those after-market remote starters installed,” she admitted, and I gave a careless shrug and made a non-committal noise in the back of my throat. I had already begun researching new vehicles for her, but given her reaction at the dealership, I would hold off mentioning that until I had all the information I needed to support my position.

“Thank you for dinner, and the baklava.” Melanie gestured to the carryout box resting on her lap.

“You’re welcome, sweetness. Thanks for agreeing to go out with me.” I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck and let out a bark of laughter. “I feel as awkward now as I did on our second date.”

Melanie’s eyes flew to mine. “Really?”

“Yes,” I said, “I was afraid to push too hard then, too, but I really wanted to ask you to go out with me for the next fifty years or so.”

The security lights in the parking lot cast a faint glow inside the cab of the truck, so I couldn’t see if Melanie was blushing, but from the way she ducked her head and hid behind a curtain of hair, I figured she was.

“I remember you telling me that.”

“It’s still true, sweetness.” My voice was gruff, and I cleared my throat as I remembered the searing kiss that had followed my declaration thirteen years ago. We’d been parked in front of her apartment, then, and it had been hell trying to walk her to her door while hiding the bulge in my pants. I’d forced myself to be content with only a gentle peck on her lips after she unlocked her door, knowing that if it turned hot and heavy again, I’d have blue balls for the rest of the night.

Melanie laughed softly, then leaned over and cupped my chin in one hand. She rubbed her thumb over my bottom lip, and her eyes traced the movement. I sat frozen, afraid to even breathe for fear of ruining the moment. She started to lean forward a little more – or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part – then seemed to think better of it and gave me a melancholy smile. She brought her other hand up to her own lips and kissed her index finger, before pressing it to my lips.

“Goodnight, Ryan,” she whispered, then opened the door and stepped out of the truck clutching her dessert in one hand and her purse in the other.