Sinful Longing (Sinful Nights, #3)(49)

“I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you. Of the fact that we’re…” The careful words came out awkwardly, like he was afraid again to say “brothers.”

“That we’re…” Colin stuck on the word, too, then pushed past it. “That we’re brothers.”

That sounded so immensely weird. Even stranger without Michael and Shannon being there. He’d call them in a few minutes and invite them to share this bizarre moment. Then he remembered where he was supposed to be right now. At Elle’s match. Looking at the time, he realized it was probably almost over, and a small bout of frustration coursed through him. He’d call her soon, too, and explain why he’d missed the match, and surely she’d understand. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d not only be cool with it, but she’d be keen to hear this news. Probably excited, in a way, that one of the boys she watched out for had done something brave.

Because that was what Marcus’s appearance here today was. Yes, it was weird and bizarre and shocking. But at the core, Marcus was downright brave.

“I’m sorry to just spring it on you. There’s not really a handbook for introducing yourself as the long lost brother. Or a Hallmark card. I was trying to figure out what to do and say, and then you talked to me in the hall at the center,” he said to Colin. “That’s when I realized I needed to get my act together and just man up and see you and introduce myself. That’s what Elle helped me with.”

The house went silent. His ears rang with that name, and a chill ran down his spine. “What did you just say?”

“Elle helped me,” Marcus repeated, as if this was no big deal.

When it was a big f*cking deal. A huge deal.

“Elle? Elle at the center?” he asked, as if there could possibly be another Elle.

Marcus nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been talking to her since the beginning. She’s been counseling me. She’s kind of amazing.”

That definitely described her.

Kind of amazing.

But for the first time ever, other words popped into his head. Words he’d never associated with her before. Words he didn’t want to associate with her.

If he’d felt the slightest bit tricked before, that was nothing on how he felt now.

Elle Mariano was a liar.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE


Her right thumb was trying to secede from her body. It was a lemming, fighting its way off the cliff of her hand.

Because…the pain.

The slicing, searing pain ripped through her hand in a tornado of hurt. She gritted her teeth, not wanting to cry. Don’t let the opposing team see you weak.

Play had halted. Her teammates skated over where she was curled up in a ball on the rink. Janine wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her up.

“C’mon, girl. Let’s get you some ice,” she said softly, guiding Elle off the rink.

She whimpered as she skated slowly to the carpeted floor. Camille was there, ready with an ice pack. “Here, let me help you.”

With her left hand, Elle waved Janine back to the floor. “Go. Finish. I’m fine,” she said with a wince, as another wave of agony crushed the life out of her hand. Her right hip joined in the pity party, too, aching from where she’d smashed onto the hardwood of the rink, her hand and hip taking the brunt of the fall. Carefully, she sat on a bench at one of the tables.

The whistle blasted and her teammates returned to the track, the music blaring again, and the emcee bleating loudly on the overhead PA system. As the game whirled behind her, her sister pressed the ice pack on her traitorous thumb, wrapping it around to the wrist.

Elle flinched from the cold as the biting chill swept over her hand.

“You’re going to be fine. I bet that smarts like hell though,” Camille said gently.

“Is it broken?” she croaked out.

“In my humble opinion as a self-appointed orthopedic nurse, I’m going to go out on a limb and say nope. But you should get it checked out.”

Alex walked over and slid in next to her. “You okay, Mom?”

Elle lifted her face and smiled faintly at her son. He patted her back gently.

“I’m going to be fine.”

He raised an eyebrow then peered at her hand. “You should get it checked out. Like Aunt Camille said.”

Tough Elle slid back into place, and she shoved off the pain. “I’m okay.”

“No. We need to take you in to get it looked at. Make sure it’s not anything serious,” Alex said, slipping into his role as man of the house. He dipped his hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts. “By the way, your phone went off. I didn’t look, but here it is.”

He placed it on the table, and the text message icon flashed on the screen.

Several times, indicating several messages. Her stomach plummeted when she saw who they were from.

She hurt a thousand times worse as she gingerly unlocked the phone with her left hand and read each one.

*

He pictured raging waters sloshing over the front of the kayak as he paddled through a rough spot. He jammed the paddles harder into the water than he needed to, but the current—the tension on the rowing machine—pushed back. He rowed faster, the equipment at the row club screeching loudly, as if it were about to snap. Part of him didn’t care. Part of him cared deeply. Another part of him was pissed, and the only thing that mattered was the battle he was waging with the machine.