Home > My Sinful Love (Sinful Men #4)(4)

My Sinful Love (Sinful Men #4)(4)
Author: Lauren Blakely

“Took me a while too.”

“When did you change it?”

His eyes darkened. I’d touched a nerve. “Ten years ago,” he said, his tone gruff.

The journalist in me didn’t want to back down. “After I saw you in Marseilles?” I asked, nerves tightening my throat as I mentioned that day. That wonderful, horrible day.

He stared up at the ceiling, his brow knit together. “I suppose that’d be about right. But that wasn’t the reason,” he added.

“Why, then?” I pressed. “It made it harder to find you. I had to ask Becky.”

He heaved a sigh. “Made it easier for me to live.”

That made all the sense in the world. “I understand,” I said, then reached for my cup. My fingers felt slippery. I gripped the ceramic more tightly as I took a sip.

He rubbed a hand across his jawline, silence sneaking between us, but not for long. He was direct once more. “Tell me. Why did you look me up?”

“Because I was coming to town,” I said, stating the simplest answer first, avoiding the tougher topic.

He stared at me, his blue eyes hooked into mine, telling me he didn’t buy it.

“Because I was seeing Sanders and Becky,” I said, mentioning my host family from when I was an exchange student.

“Did you see them?”

“I’m going to. Tomorrow.”

“So, then this,” he said, pointing from me to him. “This is . . .?”

I looked at his mouth, blinked my eyes back up to his, and dropped my voice even more. We were surrounded by noise—the clink of silverware, the slip of ice cubes against glass, and the chatter of nearby patrons ordering smoked salmon and vodka samplers. I spoke the truest words. “This is because I wanted to.”

 

 

3

 

 

Michael

 

 

There were things I wanted as well. More time with her. More talking. Mostly, I didn’t want for this to end. She was like sugary sand crystals in my hand, slipping through. I wanted to clutch my fists closed and hold them tight for just a few more moments. A few more days.

So I went for it. “What are you doing tonight?”

 

 

The dealer slapped a card down on the table.

“Wait. I want to write this down.” Mindy shook her head in amusement as she reached for the card. “I want to record this moment. You, asking me for dating advice.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I know how to date,” I grumbled.

She held up a finger. “Correction. You know how to date women you just met. You don’t know how to date the woman you were in—”

“Do I see if she wants to meet for a drink?” I asked, cutting her off because I didn’t want the reminder. I knew how I felt.

As Mindy checked out her cards at the poker table at the Luxe, her favorite gambling spot, she said, “Yes, you want to have a drink with her, because you definitely need some lubricant.”

I laughed. Mindy didn’t mince words and that was one of the reasons I enjoyed our friendship. “Noted. Use liquor for lube. Any other advice?”

She slid some chips to the center of the green felt, staying in. “Yes. You used to like music? Went to concerts together, right?”

“We did. Lots of local and indie bands. That was one of our things.”

She shrugged, as if to say duh. “There you go. Brent said there’s some new band at his nightclub tonight. A hot, young indie-rock band. Take her to that. It’ll be like old times.”

“Is that what I want? Old times?”

“Yes. That’s what you want,” she said as she set down her cards, winning the hand with a trio of sixes.

“Nice,” I said, with a low whistle of admiration.

She dragged a handful of chips closer. “So what was it like? Seeing her?”

That was the question of the day, one I’d been pondering since leaving the Petrossian Bar a few hours ago.

How could I even begin to describe seeing Annalise? It was like resistance meets infatuation. The whole time, I’d reined in my desire to kiss her, touch her, taste her lips. Because, well, that would be wholly inappropriate, and I had no clue if she wanted it. A wild, delirious thought popped into my brain. Had she looked me up for the same reason I’d tried to find her ten years ago?

Ah, hell. No. I couldn’t go there. Couldn’t linger on the biggest heartbreak of my life. On the absolutely epic shellacking I’d walked right into, like a fool who thought the past could be resurrected. The past was best left buried. Tonight would just be . . . fun.

“It was awkward, but easy at the same time,” I said, after much consideration. “If that makes sense.”

Mindy nodded thoughtfully, her blue eyes serious. “Yeah, it does.”

“We sort of slid right back into conversation about work and past memories. It was good, even though I still feel like there are a million things I want to ask her.”

Mindy patted my arm. “I know. But perhaps it’s best to save ‘Do you ever think about me?’ for another time.”

“Good point.”

“Keep it light and fun,” she advised, then tipped her chin to my phone. “And maybe let her know the plan for tonight.”

I texted Annalise the details, lingering to appreciate the ease of communicating now with the woman I’d once had the hardest time in the world staying in touch with. So much had changed over the years. Even things like . . . text messaging. We hadn’t had this luxury when we were younger.

When Mindy finished the round ahead, she thanked the dealer, collected her winnings, and walked away from the table. She was a measured player, always knowing when to stop. We wandered through the casino, then down the hall toward the restrooms, stopping outside the ladies’ room where it was quiet so we could catch up on other matters.

“Did you see the report from Morris?” she asked, mentioning the private detective I’d hired. Mindy had worked with the guy, so when I was looking for a solid recommendation, I’d taken hers.

“Yeah. Not much there. The guy goes to the grocery store, and to buy sheet music at the piano shop. Doesn’t even take his girls to school. I swear I don’t get it. How can he be the head of a street gang?” I dragged a hand through my hair in frustration. I’d hired the detective to gather some intel on Luke Carlton, the mild-mannered local piano teacher by day, leader of the notorious street gang the Royal Sinners by night. The cops were trying to gather enough evidence to bring him in, and I wanted to do everything I could to help take down the fucker I was sure had played a role in plotting my father’s death.

“But that’s how it’s always been,” Mindy said. “This guy has supposedly been running the Royal Sinners for years, so he damn well knows how to be inconspicuous.”

“That’s the trouble,” I said, as my phone buzzed.

 

Annalise: A concert! Sounds great. I will be there.

 

 

I promptly forgot about Luke and zoned in on those last four words. She would be there.

My Annalise.

 

 

4

 

 

Annalise

 

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