Sinful Desire

Later that evening, they’d be together in other ways. Eating dinner at a cafe. Making love in their hotel after the lights fell in the town and only stars winked in the sky. Then the next day, too, cruising along the autobahn in a sleek new car, living life to the fullest, loving without limits.






Epilogue


Johnny Cash bounded over to him, barreling across Colin’s front lawn and into Ryan’s outstretched arms on the sidewalk. “Hey, buddy,” he said, kneeling down to say hi to his pooch at last.

The Border Collie licked Ryan’s face, and whimpered happily as he thumped his tail. Ryan wrapped his arms around the dog’s furry neck. He hadn’t seen Johnny Cash in more than a week, and even though the time with Sophie had been the best days of his life, he did miss his canine friend.

Colin walked down the steps from his house and joined them on the sidewalk. “Looks like someone missed you,” Colin said.

Ryan stood up and gave his brother a quick hug. “Thanks for watching him. I really appreciate it.”

“He’s easy. Welcome back. How was it?”

Ryan briefly considered the question. He could answer it with patent honesty and say out of this world, amazing, incredible, fantastic, or a dream come true. Instead, he answered with another truth. “I’m going to ask her to marry me next week.”

Colin’s dark eyes lit up and his mouth fell open. “Holy shit. Guess you had a great time.” He extended a hand and then clapped Ryan on the back.

“Yeah, we did,” he said, still grinning over what he had planned for Sophie.

“Congratulations in advance. Couldn’t be happier for you. It all happened so quickly.”

Ryan nodded. “It did. The whole thing happened so damn fast. But I guess when you’re certain of something, you have to go for it.”

Colin knocked fists with him. “Couldn’t agree more. How did you decide?”

As he pet a happy Johnny Cash, he told Colin the story of how he’d said her name on the plane, illustrating with his hand over his mouth, as if words were spilling out of their own volition.

His brother cracked up. “Awesome. So you just let it slip on the plane that you wanted her to be Mrs. Sloan?”

“I hadn’t even thought that far. It just came out, and then I realized I wanted that. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“She is, and don’t ever forget it.”

“I won’t,” Ryan said, then walked to his car, and opened the front door to let his dog jump in. A nearby engine rattled, then stopped quickly. He turned in the direction of the car.

The hair on his neck rose. The Buick. Parking outside Colin’s house. “He’s back. Looks like he knows where we all live,” Ryan hissed. “Sophie told me he stopped by my house more than a week ago.”

He straightened his spine, kept his eyes on the guy, and waited, arms crossed, feet planted wide. The guy walked around the back of his car, then stopped short when he saw them.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

Ryan lifted his chin. His eyes were narrowed. Colin had said something on the phone to him earlier this week about this guy, but Ryan didn’t like that he kept showing up, no matter what Colin had told him. “What’s the deal? My fiancée told me you stopped by my house the other day. Just man up and tell us what this is about.”

The guy walked closer, inhaling and exhaling with each step. He stopped a few feet away. He was younger than Ryan expected, maybe even a teenager. He had a tough-guy edge with the boots, jeans, the tattoos that snaked up his arms, and a stubbled jaw, but his eyes were young.

And something in them looked eerily familiar.

Like Ryan recognized them. His blood froze, and all the hair on his arms stood on end.

“Marcus?”

Ryan snapped his gaze to his brother, whose jaw had fallen open as he’d said the name.

“You know him?” Ryan asked.

Colin nodded, eyes wide with shock.

The guy cleared his throat and cut in. “I want to talk to both of you,” he said, his voice steady, but as if he were forcing that evenness. “We all have something in common.”

“Why are you here?” Ryan asked, adrenaline surging through his body, like a fighter poised. “Who is he?” he said to Colin.

But nothing could have prepared him for the next words.

“My name is Marcus. I was born seventeen years ago at the Stella McLaren Federal Women’s Correctional Center. My mother is Dora Prince. I’m your brother.”

THE END