Sinful Longing (Sinful Nights, #3)(42)

Coming together…and falling apart.

*

She shivered as he ran his fingertips over her sparrows. “These are my favorite,” he said, kissing them.

She trembled in his arms, her back to him as he held her. She barely felt like herself. She was some other version of Elle Mariano in these stolen moments with Colin. And she loved this version. She savored being this woman. Not a mom. Not a social worker. Not a woman with secrets that couldn’t be shared. She wore only her bra and panties, and he was clad in his briefs. They’d eaten Thai while watching the final ten minutes of Goodfellas, reciting the closing lines together. Then they’d managed one more quick round, and now the clock was racing closer to the end of the night. She had to leave in thirty minutes.

“Why do you like them?”

“Because I love your neck, and these birds are like a homing beacon to me.”

“That’s why I got them.”

“To draw me to your neck?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No. Because in olden days, sailors would follow birds to land. That’s how they knew when they were coming close to shore. There’s a legend about a sailor who found his way home by spotting sparrows. I just love the idea of finding your way home.”

“When did you get this one?”

“Five years ago. Things were really rough with Sam then. It was his third or fourth rehab stint. I lost count. But I needed the reminder that I could find my own way home,” she said, glad it was a topic she could freely discuss. Though they’d talked about their ink before, they’d never delved into it in great detail.

“I like that idea. I believe that’s true. You can find your way home,” he said softly, and she craned her neck to look at him. The sun had dropped below the horizon, and night had fallen. Dark shadows lined his face from the waning light in the windows; he’d only turned on one lamp.

“I believe it, too. And sometimes you have to rely on something outside of yourself to do that.”

“Who or what did you rely on?”

“My mom, my sister, my son. Basically, my family,” she said.

“I love that you’re so close to them. It’s the same with my brothers and sister,” he said, and she tensed momentarily, wondering what would happen to that tight-knit foursome when they learned they were five.

His hand dropped to her hip, traveling across the cherry blossom tree that decorated her side up to her rib cage. That had hurt like hell, given the location, but she loved the intricate design and symbolism of it. “Wait. I was wrong. This one is my favorite,” he whispered, dusting a kiss across the blossoms. “It’s beautiful and sexy, like you.”

“I had this one done in San Diego when I took Alex there a few years ago. The tattoo artist who did this gave me a similar design to the one he made for his wife. It’s on her neck, and it’s gorgeous. He said in Japan it’s a symbol for the preciousness of life. With tattoos, it represents femininity and beauty.”

“Both are perfect.”

He traveled across her body, landing on the script-y T on her wrist. “But this one truly is my favorite. Titanium. You told me you got this after Sam died.”

She nodded and swallowed. Her throat hitched with the memory. “Yes. My reminder to stay strong. Obviously, since that’s what titanium is.” She inched around, facing him, meeting his eyes. There were other truths she’d been sworn to protect, but her life, her past, and her pain were hers alone to share. She’d never told him all the details. And now, as they came closer together, the time seemed right. “He died in my arms.”

His jaw dropped. “Shit, Elle. I’m so sorry. I knew he OD’d but didn’t know the details.”

“We weren’t together. We hadn’t been for a long time. But he showed up at my house, smashed, sick as a dog, white as a sheet. He stumbled inside, and I started to call my mom, since she’s a nurse. But then he just started convulsing.” The cruel memory flickered in her mind—Sam’s eyes bugging out, his breath coming in spurts, his chest seizing up. She’d called 911 immediately then crouched on the floor, holding him, desperately waiting for the ambulance to show up. It was too late. The medics pronounced him dead on the scene. “Alex saw the whole thing.”

Pain sliced through her, and she winced from the memories.

Colin wrapped his arms around her. “That’s such a terrible thing for him to see. I didn’t watch my dad die, but I saw his body a few hours later, when my mom found him. I’ll never forget the image. It must be so hard for Alex.”

“It was,” she said. Her voice broke and a tear slipped down her cheek.

He kissed it away.

“Colin,” she said, her voice thin as air. “That’s why I’m scared.”

“I know. But that’s not me. I won’t be like that.”

She nodded, though she was certain they both knew no one could make that guarantee. But it wasn’t fair of her to ask either, especially since he’d already proven that he could rise above. He was the best man she knew. The kindest, smartest, most thoughtful gentleman she’d ever met. The guy who helped the boys at the center. Who drove them to tests. Who helped them study. Who inspired them in gaming strategy and tracked down history apps. He was the man who treated her like a queen.