Sins, Lies & Spies (Black Brothers #2)(42)

“My dad asked me to find you.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. “What? You never told me that.”

“He’d just been diagnosed with cancer when he asked me to find you and make sure you were okay.”

I squeezed the phone, and Knox’s hands curled around my shoulders, but I couldn’t look at him. I knew he could hear the conversation and I didn’t want to see his reaction. I rubbed the dull ache inside of my chest.

“I don’t get it. Don’t you think that piece of information was important? Why didn’t you say anything before?” My voice sounded like I’d swallowed a mouthful of glass.

Derrick’s breathing turned heavy, then he sighed. “I couldn’t. Look, I realize this is a touchy subject for both of us. I think it’d be better if we had this conversation in person. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re probably right.” I was too shell-shocked to object, and part of me wanted to end this conversation as fast as possible so I could process everything. “But I still want you to consider what I said about coming clean.”

“I’ll text you on Monday and we’ll schedule a time to meet for lunch in the near future. We can talk about everything then.”

“Sure,” I said, my voice breaking mid-word.

I disconnected my phone and tossed it on the coffee table. Without saying a word, I stood and warily slipped past Knox. For some reason, knowing my biological father sent Derrick to find me hurt. I couldn’t help wondering if I missed out on an opportunity to meet him. Derrick never suggested it, but I didn’t know the details of his illness. He was diagnosed with brain cancer around the time Derrick found me and he died almost six months ago.

“Are you okay?” Knox asked, following me down the hall.

Instead of answering, I shook my head. I didn’t have anything to say and didn’t want to hear anything Knox might say just yet.





CHAPTER





TWENTY-FOUR


“Where are you going?” Knox asked, his shoes clipping over the hardwood.

I opened the bathroom door. “I’m getting ready for bed. I’m beat. It’s been a long day.” With trembling hands, I dug through my cosmetic bag, searching for my brush.

He leaned his hip against the doorjamb. “Do you want to talk?”

I scoffed. “No. I think I’ll pass.” I couldn’t have a heart to heart right now. I’d lose my mind.

He sighed. “Let me help you.”

He grabbed the brush from my hand. With slow even strokes, he worked the bristles through my tangled hair. He grabbed an elastic band from the counter and arranged my hair into a ponytail.

“Who taught you how to brush a woman’s hair?” I asked, my gaze meeting his in the mirror.

“I used to do it for my mom when I was a kid.”

I smiled, imagining a miniature Knox combing his mom’s hair. “That was nice.”

“Not really. I had to do it for her when she was too drunk to do it herself.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “She was an alcoholic?”

“That and a lot of other not so good stuff.” He tossed the brush on the top of my bag. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

My heart squeezed. “I know how you feel. I hate talking about my mom. She was a great mom, but then one day she disappeared without a trace, and we never heard anything from her again.” I swallowed. “I don’t even know if she’s alive.”

He spun me around. “I’m sorry, Trinity. It must be hard wondering if she’s out there somewhere—”

I pressed my finger to his lips and shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about that either. Not tonight, anyway.”

He pulled me flush against his body. His warm soothing embrace made me feel like he could keep all the monsters away. “Agreed,” he murmured.

Lifting onto my tiptoes, I closed my arms around his neck. Then he kissed me slowly, seducing me with his mouth, his lips, his teeth, and his tongue. I’d never been kissed with such committed focus. Within seconds, he had me convinced that nothing mattered in the world except that kiss. I gave myself up to it, following his lead and kissing him back with a single-minded intensity that quickly ignited into a frenzy.

I reached for his shirt, my fingers fumbling to shove the tiny buttons through the holes. He clamped his hand around my wrist and I felt his smile against my lips. “It’s not a race. We have all night,” he said, his voice deep and hypnotic.

He lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. I closed my eyes, relaxing into him. I pressed my lips to his neck, and he groaned. He shifted me closer to him, eliminating every suggestion of space.

My back hit the mattress, and he moved over me. He caught my hands in one of his, holding them above my head. His tongue glided against mine, tamer now than in the bathroom. My heart knocked against my breastbone, eagerly awaiting his next move.

He reached under the hem of my dress, his warm hands clashing with my icy skin, setting me on fire one brush of his fingers at a time. I was so distracted by his touch, my mind barely registered the moment he slid my dress over my head.

I snuck a hand between our bodies and palmed him through his black pants, needing evidence I affected him as much as he affected me. He groaned as I circled the outline of his erection, his eyes squeezing closed.