A Necessary Sin (The Sin Trilogy, #1)(51)

I dread making that call. I don’t want to lie to Harry but there’s no way I can tell him I couldn’t go through with killing Thane because I’m in love with his son. He’d never understand that.

Sinclair is simultaneously all I could want in a man while I despise everything that makes him the person he is. I’m straddling two worlds. Love versus hate—and I’m not sure which is stronger.

Despite his dirty deeds, I think Sin is it for me—the one and only love of my life. My heart tells me so every time I look at him. The feelings I experience when we’re together are everything I’ve always imagined when I pictured myself in love, minus the part where my beloved will be the next leader of an organized crime empire.

I did not see this perfect storm coming.





Chapter Eighteen





Sinclair Breckenridge




“Would you like to lie on the couch or go to the bed?” Oh no. My mum didn’t play the coddling game and Bleu isn’t, either.

“Those are the only two choices I get?”

“Yes. The doctor says you need plenty of rest. I’m inclined to believe he knows what he’s talking about.” I guess she’s right since it’s possible he performed a miracle by bringing me back from the condition I was in a week ago.

“Will you come with me if I choose the bed?”

She tilts her head. “I will, but not for the reason you have in mind.”

That’s not what I was implying. I don’t have the stamina for sex right now—and it’s a damn shan. I’ve missed being with my Bonny Bleu. “Give me a few more days and then we’ll make up for lost time.”

She comes closer and hooks her hands behind my waist. “I look forward to that.”

“No more than me.” I kiss her mouth. “Mmm … I’ve missed that.”

“Me too.” She squeezes my midsection. “I’m happy we’re home.”

“How did you make out at my parents’? I mean, the times you weren’t holed up with me.”

A look I can’t identify crosses her face. “Your parents were very good to me—exceedingly so. As a guest, I’ve never been treated so well. That’s saying a lot since I’m from the South.” She laughs. “We’re very hospitable people.”

“I’ll need to thank them later.” I think I should probably tell her about them overhearing us at the hospital. “They know about me claiming you.”

She’s clearly surprised. “And?”

“They’re okay with it but both agree it’s a good idea to keep it to ourselves.” Especially from Abram.

She laughs and shrugs. “I don’t have anyone to tell.”

“Do you miss the friends you made at the bar?”

“Lorna was the only girl I’d consider a friend and that’s a maybe. I don’t think she cared for me much.”

She better not have mistreated my lass. “Why is that?”

“She’s in love with Leith.” Lorna has shagged Leith plenty of times but I can’t believe she has romantic feelings for him.

“Aah … and he was making moves for you.”

“Then you see the problem that made for our friendship.”

Makes total sense. “Clearly.”

“I can’t be friends with anyone within The Fellowship because they believe I’m an outsider and I can’t tell them about the one thing that designates me an insider.”

That makes for a problem in the friend department. “I see your dilemma. I’m sorry.”

“But I’ve grown close to your mother. That’s a good thing.” I like Bleu and my mum being friends.

“She taught me her version of shepherd pie and now I have a crazy craving for open roast beef sandwiches with gravy. Maybe with potatoes and carrots?”

“That sounds really good.”

“I was thinking of cooking tonight. I’m tired of hospital food and I’m guessing you are too.”

“I’ll never turn down your food.” Everything Bleu cooks is fantastic.

“You like my southern cuisine?”

“Very much.”

“To the couch with you.”

My flat has an open floor plan so I can easily lie on the couch and watch Bleu.

She’s a tough lass. Scraps as well as any man I know, probably better, yet knows how to cook a delicious meal. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

“I can’t knit worth than a damn. My grandmother tried to teach me once. I got so frustrated I wanted to stab someone in the eye with the needle.” Why am I not surprised by this?

“Remind me to never ask you to knit me a sweater.”

She laughs and makes a stabbing motion with the fork in her hand. “Good thinking.”



* * *



We finish dinner and then watch TV until bedtime. We’re side by side doing our nightly routines, preparing for bed. It feels domestic—and comfortable.

It’s odd the things a man will think of when he believes he’s toeing the line between life and death. I was terrified to surrender to my body’s exhaustion; I believed if I closed my eyes for even a second, I’d never wake again. It was in those last moments before everything went black that I looked at Bleu and recalled the simple things—holding her after one of her nightmares, kissing the top of her head as I leave for work, listening to her breathe in the dark. Of all my fleeting thoughts, this one was my favorite—standing side by side getting ready for bed, me wearing my sleep pants and her in one of her soft, flowing nightgowns.