Elle: I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do.
I hit send then decided I wanted to fall asleep on a happier note, so I skipped over to the Facebook page for the Fishnet Brigade to see if my roller derby friends had posted any photos from the game. I smiled at an image one of the blockers had shared of the team before the match, then at one of me sending Janine around the curve during the game. I posted a smiley face in the comments, then ran my finger over the picture as I yawned, the pill working its magic on my brain as well as my hands.
I clicked back to the page to search for more, when a notification appeared. Someone had replied to my comment, but it was from a weird name I didn’t recognize, and the words were an eerie warning.
Be careful who you get involved with.
“What?” I mumbled, but I was already floating on a cloud of comfortably numb, and the mystery slipped away along with my cares.
48
Colin
The phone rang and rang and rang.
But then, if I were her, I probably wouldn’t answer either. Tossing the phone onto the counter, I grabbed my cup of coffee and downed a hearty gulp.
Honestly, I shouldn’t even be calling her so early. I should let her sleep. She was probably up late last night, anyway, celebrating her team’s win. I was proud of her and sad that I’d missed it.
Sadder still over the note I’d sent.
I leaned back against the steel fridge and closed my eyes. What had I been thinking? But that was the problem—I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been feeling and letting all those stirred-up, messed-up, mixed-up emotions from meeting my long-lost brother rule over me.
I’d simply reacted. Lightning fast, like I did in sports. When I went bungee jumping, I didn’t let myself think. I didn’t give myself any space to contemplate the decision. I just jumped and free-fell.
That kind of split-second fearlessness came in handy in my pursuit of adventure sports. But it could be the death knell for a budding relationship.
I cursed at myself as I drank more of the caffeinated brew, then set the nearly drained mug on the counter. I’d already logged some time on the lake this morning, on top of last night’s epic two-hour rowing club workout. The bookends to my midnight and dawn had worked—they’d kept me on the straight and narrow. I’d been tempted last night—the pull of the one sure way to drown my sorrows had been potent. But I’d stayed strong, so at least I had that victory.
Now all I wanted was to see Elle and make sense of what had gone down. But it was too early, so I grabbed my keys and sunglasses, left my house, and headed to visit the two people I knew would be up at this hour on a weekend.
I drove over to the Golden Nugget and found my dad’s two best friends where they always were on a Saturday morning. Sanders usually joined Donald at his table for a few final rounds with his favorite dealer before Donald’s overnight shift ended. They’d cap that off with eggs and bacon, then meet their wives for coffee.
At this hour on a Saturday, Sanders was the only one at Donald’s table, so I caught them up on the latest news from the detective about the drug dealing, as well as yesterday’s shocker.
“Is that not the craziest thing you’ve heard?” I asked, as I finished the story and perused my cards.
Donald blew out a long stream of air, finishing it off with a low whistle. “If it’s not the craziest, it’s damn close. She was a real piece of work, that woman.”
I huffed. “Yeah, that’s for sure. Did my dad even know about the stuff she was up to?”
Sanders shook his head. “Hell no,” he said emphatically. “He knew she was getting into some bad shit and running into trouble with money. But being pregnant? No way. He’d have told us for sure.”
“He would?”
Sanders nodded as he studied his cards, exchanging one for a new card. “We were all pretty up-front with each other. He told us some of what was going on at work. Like when there was some trouble at the company for a spell and he was trying to make head or tail of it. Told us, too, what was happening at home with Dora and the fights they had about money. And, of course, stuff about you guys. Teaching Mike to drive and Shan to play pool. Hell, we all heard the story of that hickey you got,” he said with a wink, darting out his index finger toward my neck as if I were twelve again.
I chuckled, remembering when I’d made up an elaborate tale to avoid admitting a girl had given me a hickey at a middle school dance. My dad saw straight through it and teased me mercilessly. Evidently, my dad had told his best buddies too. That warmed my heart.
I returned to less amusing topics. “What about the cheating though? Did my dad know about Luke?”
“He was suspicious,” Donald said as he doled out two more cards to me.
I arched an eyebrow. “He knew she was fooling around?”
“He didn’t have any evidence, but a man just knows these things,” Donald said, setting down the deck and parking his hands on the green felt of the table.
Sanders chimed in. “He could tell from her behavior. That’s what he told us—that she’d been spending more time out of the house. More time unaccounted for. But, you know, he wasn’t going to hire a PI or anything like that, and it was different back then. People didn’t have cell phones with cameras, walking around snapping pictures of people getting up to things they shouldn’t be. So it was easier for her to get away with it.”
My gut churned, and my shoulders tensed with simmering hate. I detested everything my mom had done to my dad. Every single thing. “Did he care? Was he bothered? Was he in love with her still?”
Donald tipped his chin at the other man. “What do you think, San? Did Thomas still love Dora?”
Sanders sighed deeply. “Ah, hell. How can I answer that? We weren’t fond of her. We didn’t like Dora way before any of the real shit went down, because she was fucking around on him. So I don’t want my dislike for her to cloud my answer. But I think he cared for her. He was as good to Dora as anyone could be to a woman like that, and he showed her respect because she was the mother of his children. And more than anything, he cared about you kids. You were the center of his world. The four of you—that’s what he loved most. Being your dad.”
As Sanders picked up his cards, I stared distantly out at the sparse morning sprinkling of gamblers at slots and tables, blinking away the tears that threatened to well up. My father had been gone so long, and while I still thought of him every day, time had a way of soothing the pain. The years made the hurt recede into the horizon.
But losing him would never take away the good things my father had passed on to me—love, respect, and truth. I might have spiraled after my dad’s death, but I’d picked myself up since then. I’d apologized for my mistakes. I’d become a better man—the man my father had taught me to be.
And that man needed to see one woman now.
49
Elle
The blanket fell to the floor.
I rustled myself from the couch, sitting up as I yawned. The light shone brightly through my living room window. I glanced around, getting my bearings, then I spotted a note on the coffee table. From my mom—it was written on a yellow piece of stationery with a cartoonish fox in the corner.
Hey, sweetie, I picked up Alex this morning. You were sound asleep. I’ll take him for the day. Get your rest, my love.
I grabbed my phone to check the time. It was after nine. I’d been conked out since before midnight. Those pills must have worked brilliantly. I wiggled my thumb gingerly, and it didn’t hurt anymore.
I wished I could say the same about my heart. I’d need super-duper strength pills to numb the pain I felt when I thought of Colin, how angry he was and how he felt so deceived by me. I understood why, and I’d tried to prepare myself for this moment, but it hurt more than I could have imagined.
As I placed my phone on the table, another memory boomeranged front and center. An odd Facebook comment from last night. Something strangely . . . menacing. I clicked on the app and scanned t
he post on our team’s page. But whatever I’d been remembering was now gone. The post only included comments from my derby teammates, fans, and friends.
Weird. Maybe the pain pill had made me a little loopy.
I padded to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and took a quick shower. When I was through, I pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, headed to the kitchen, and punched in the ’90s channel on my music app. I hummed along to a Pearl Jam tune as I hunted for eggs and bread in the fridge.
The music was interrupted by a knock on the door.
With one hand gripping the open fridge door, I made a wish, hoping against hope that it would be Colin. A foolish wish.
After his texts, there was no way he’d be here.
I headed to the front door, peered through the peephole, and squeaked when I saw that dark hair, that sandpaper stubble, and those yummy lips. That man.
I burst into a grin.
Wait.
Prickles of worry tripped across my skin. What if he was still pissed? What if he’d come here to tell me he never wanted to see me again?
I inhaled deeply, letting the air fill my chest, and gathered my strength. Whether he was mad or not, whether I was hurt or not, we needed to talk. I opened the door, ready to finally explain.
He was faster. He locked eyes with me. “Hey, so I’m an asshole, and I’m so incredibly sorry.”
The grin returned to my face, and I shook my head. “No, you’re not,” I said quickly, needing to reassure him. “Not at all. Do you want to come in?”
He nodded and walked inside. I shut the door behind him, and we stood in my tiny entryway. Though I was happy to see him, my heart still hurt from his messages, and from the weight of the secrets I’d had to keep.
“Colin,” I said, starting with my own mea culpa. “You have to know that if there were a way I could have told you, I would have. I desperately wanted to. It was so hard for me not to say anything. I hated keeping it from you. But I couldn’t do that to Marcus.”
“I know. I swear, I know,” he said, relief and frustration in his voice as he dragged one hand through his hair. “And I should have known better. I was so blindsided, and then a million times more shocked to learn he’d confided in you before he told us. But instead of sitting down and talking to you to try to understand the situation, I just blurted out all my feelings. Over text, no less.” He stopped to shake his head and take a quiet breath. “I’ve tried so hard to be truthful and open. After years of keeping secrets and hiding problems, I’ve worked hard to speak the truth. But I was too honest. I spoke too much and said hurtful things.”
“But they were truthful things too.”
“At the time. But that doesn’t mean they needed to be said. I should have waited to talk to you. Instead of reacting like that. I don’t want to be that guy.”
“Then don’t be that guy,” I said matter-of-factly. I understood that he’d been knocked to his knees by news he couldn’t have prepared for, but I also wasn’t going to be on the receiving end of his frustration. “Be the guy who gives me a chance to explain and work it out. And be the guy who treats me with respect even if you’re upset.”
“I will. I promise I will,” he said, his voice a plea for forgiveness. “That’s not how I want to treat you. I was just so stunned by everything that I stopped thinking.” He rocked lightly on his heels as Eddie Vedder sang on the stereo in the kitchen. “It was all so out of the blue. Ryan was telling me about his trip, and his dog was jumping in the car, and, Elle . . .” He stopped to look me in the eyes, letting the enormity of the moment register. “Then my half-brother appears, takes off his cape, and says, ‘Ta-da!’ It was beyond surreal. He talked for a long time, and then he told me he’d spoken to you about it. And boom.” He smashed one palm against the other. “It was like slamming into a wall. I just didn’t know what to think, and I snapped back at you. I should have taken some time to process the news and filtered myself. Instead, I processed it through you. Over a text message. And I just typed everything that came to mind, rather than talking to you.” He downshifted to a gentler tone, meeting my eyes and doing what I’d asked. “So, please talk to me.”
At last, I was free of the burden of this secret. “I didn’t want to keep it from you. But he asked for my confidence before he told me he was your brother, and I was torn apart when I found out. But it would have been so wrong for me to tell you.” I reached for him, running my fingers gently across the tanned skin of his arm, wanting contact.
“Wrong? Elle, that’s not what I—” Then he stopped and gestured to my thumb with the splint on it. “What happened to your hand?”
I shrugged it off. “Nothing. I crashed during the match.”
He reached for my hand, brought it to his lips, and brushed a kiss onto the small splint. My heart fluttered.
“Are you okay?” His tone was etched with concern.
“I’m fine. Everyone is making a big deal of it. It’s a dislocated thumb, and evidently it’s relocated now,” I said as I wiggled my thumb. “It’s not like I broke a tibia crashing off a sheer rock wall or something. But it did hurt like hell yesterday.” I smiled. “I’m feeling much better this morning though.”
“Can I still hold your hand?” he asked, rearranging our hands to gently slide his fingers through mine, lacing them together. My heart danced a crazy jig. So much for that momentary panic. Now the organ in my chest was engaged in a full-blown tango of joy.
“Yes,” I whispered.
He stepped closer, tenderly clasping my hand. “I didn’t mean it when I said I don’t know how I feel about you. Maybe for a few seconds, or a few minutes, I didn’t know which way was up or down. But then when I thought about it, I know exactly how I feel about you.”
“And how do you feel?”
50
Colin
This was the real risk. Close your eyes, step off the cliff. No guarantee that there’s anything to break your fall, but do it anyway.
“How I feel is this.” I took a breath before I spoke. “That I should have come and talked to you. That I wish I’d been there yesterday to help you up when you fell,” I said, wrapping my other hand around her trim waist. She fit so well in my arms. “That I wanted to spend time with you and your son.”
Her eyes sparkled when I mentioned Alex.
“And I know I need to make it up to him that I didn’t show up, as much as I need to make it up to you. Because the two of you are a package deal. You matter so much to me, and I want to do right by your kid.”
“You will do right by him. You already are,” she said, her voice breaking as she inched closer, melting into me.
“I want so much more than what it’s been. I can’t pretend I just want this,” I said, raking my eyes over her from head to toe. “I do want whatever you can give. I do want to have you all night long. But I want the rest of you too.” I let go of her waist and placed my palm on her chest. I was guided by the truth of my feelings for her—and the depth of them too. “I’m falling for you.”
Instantly, she grasped my hand, tugging it even closer to her chest. “I’m falling for you too, Colin. I was going to tell you the other night at your house,” she said, words tumbling free in a mad rush. “I don’t want these lines between us anymore. I don’t want to just keep seeing you. I want to see what we can become. I told Alex that I’m dating you, and I want you to be in my life.”
I nuzzled her neck, layering kisses on her skin, my heart beating hard and fast. “I want that so much, Elle. I want all of you.”
“You can have all of me,” she whispered, then pressed her lips to my ear, making me shudder and turning me on. “Preferably now. In my bed. You and me.”
As much as I wanted to RSVP all the way to that invitation, she was injured.
But there were plenty of ways to make her feel better. “How about I give you some TLC?”
She tapped her chin, as if considering it. “Okay, sold.”
Scooping her up, I carried her through the livi
ng room and down the hall, finding her bedroom easily.
Gently, I stripped her down to her panties, tossing her shorts and tank on the floor.
She froze and held up her index finger. “Wait.”
I raised an eyebrow in a question.
“Close your eyes,” she told me.
I shrugged happily, figuring whatever was coming next would be worth the surprise. A drawer opened behind me with a squeak, then I counted the seconds as she moved around. Nineteen long ones later, the mattress dipped lightly, and she told me to open my eyes.
Holy fucking fantasy.
The socks.
The roller-skating socks. They were white with purple stripes at the knees, and they were so hot. My dick was operating at a ninety-degree angle now. But this wasn’t about me.
It was about her.
I crawled up on the bed, running my hands up her legs, from the socks to her knees to those gorgeous thighs, which led to my favorite place in the universe. I kneeled over her, bending my face to her center. Kissing her belly. Her hips. Inhaling her. Her scent drove me wild. I pressed my lips against the waistband of her panties, then tugged at them with my teeth.
She laughed lightly, but her laughter was swallowed up as I yanked them to her knees, and her hips shot up.
“Colin,” she whispered, surprise in her tone. But excitement too, judging from the sexy little murmur she made.
Once I had the underwear to her ankles, I tugged them off.
“Just like I’ve always wanted,” I said, meeting her eyes. Hers were full of lust—a lust that matched mine. “You in just these.”
“That’s what I like—being your fantasy.”
“You’re all my fantasies,” I said.
Then I spread her open. Traveled up her legs. Kissed the inside of her thighs. Nipped that enticing, tantalizing spot where her legs curved into her slick folds.
My Sinful Longing (Sinful Men Book 3) Page 17
