Sinful Longing

The look in his dark eyes said that it was more than fine. That it was pure magic to share what he loved. And it became pure fun, too, when he taught her how to paddle in a kayak built for two. She didn’t flip over, she didn’t drown, and she didn’t slice her head on a rock at the edge of the lake.

After they pulled the kayak out of the water, she sank down on the edge of the lake, enjoying the clear blue sky of an early morning on the outskirts of Vegas. He draped an arm around her, and she expected a kiss to come next—maybe even a kiss that would turn into outdoor sex on a kayak.

Instead, his voice was intensely serious. “Elle, do you want me to quit?”

“Quit?” she asked quizzically. “Quit what?”

“Doing the adventure sports? Not kayaking, but the ones you worry about more. The rock climbing, hang gliding, mountain bike riding, and the skiing?”

“Wait. You hang glide, too?” That was news to her.

He smiled widely. “No. I want to try it, though. But I know the sports worry you. I’ll give it up for you.”

Her eyes widened with shock, and her heart beat wildly as she soaked in the knowledge that he would give up something he loved madly for her. “You’d do that for me?”

He nodded, no questions asked. “I would. I don’t want to cause any more stress in your life. I don’t want you to live with that kind of fear.”

Happiness rained down on her. Bliss spread from her chest to the tips of her fingers. The fact that he’d offered thrilled her. It delighted her to the ends of the earth and back. But she shook her head. “No. I don’t want you to quit. I want you to go for it. I want to cheer you on. I want to be the first person you see when you cross the finish line at your triathlon later this month.”

He exhaled deeply and smiled like she’d given him the greatest gift in the world—permission to do what he loved without fear. She’d still worry about him, but it wasn’t her place to hold him back. She ran her hand over his hip. Though he was clothed, she liked tracing the outline of his phoenix tattoo. For new beginnings. Like this one. “In fact, I was going to ask if you’d be interested in starting a climbing or kayaking group for the boys at the center. They never get to go, and I bet some would like to.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I already took Rex yesterday. He loved it.”

She nudged his elbow. “See? You don’t have to give up something you love to be with me.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to, but I would,” he said, running his hand through her hair then pulling her in for a quick kiss. “And I can’t wait to cross the finish line and see you.”

“I’ll always be there.”





EPILOGUE


Hot. Sweaty. Exhausted. Aching.

And elated.

Add in thrilled as the finish line came into view that hot Saturday afternoon in August, and he saw where Elle waved and cheered him on. He was overjoyed as he put one foot in front of the other, ceaselessly running until he nearly collapsed in her arms.

Nearly. But didn’t.

He finished this one the way he wanted to, and even though every muscle screamed, and his throat cried out for water, he was flying high. So high, he lifted her up in his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him.

“You did it!”

“I did it.”

There was no medal. There was no prize. There was no ranking. There was only this—the satisfaction of a job well done and the love of a good woman.

That was everything, and he wanted to share it with his family the next day. The crew joined him for a celebratory dinner at his house—Brent and Shannon, Ryan and Sophie, Elle and Alex, Michael and his grandparents, as well as Marcus, Rex, and Tyler. The boys seemed to travel in a pack, and Colin was glad that Marcus had such good friends—friends who were also good guys.

Marcus had more than that. He had his new family, too, and he’d been spending more time here at Colin’s house, crashing from time to time at night when he had class the next morning, since his school was nearby. But he hadn’t been himself for the last few weeks. Not since they’d visited their mom in Hawthorne. He’d seemed remote, nervous even, spending more time clutching his phone as if he were waiting for a dreaded call to arrive.

Colin had asked a few times about his mood, and if he wanted to talk. Marcus always shook his head and said no. Colin tried again that evening after everyone left and the two of them were straightening up in the kitchen.

“What’s going on? College harder than you thought?”

“No. It’s fine,” Marcus said as he loaded a plate in the dishwasher.

“Is it work?”

His phone rang. With the speed of a cheetah, Marcus whipped his cell from his back pocket. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately. Colin didn’t even see the name or the number.

“Hey.”

A pause. Colin tried to tune in to the conversation, though he knew he shouldn’t. Still, he was damn curious, especially since the caller sounded a hell of a lot like Detective John Winston.