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Emma’s voice snapped him out of his forbidden fantasy. He whipped around, putting his back to her. “Jesus! Put some clothes on.”
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”
The sound of fabric falling to the ground made his dick throb. Engines. Check main bearing clearances. Pull the main bolts off. Clean the bore, solder walls, and threads. Clean crank shaft and caps . . .
“I forgot. You don’t want to talk about the elephant in the room,” Emma continued.
He shook his head, balling his fists at his sides as anger and guilt rose at the reminder of how badly he’d fucked up.
“It’s safe to turn around.”
He grabbed the bag of food and pulled out the Styrofoam containers and plastic utensils before handing Emma hers and taking a seat on the only available place in the almost-bare motel room: the bed. She took a spot next to him, laying his bottle of Pepsi between them by her iced tea.
“You know why I don’t want to talk about it. It’s sick. You’re my little sister. It was just the alcohol and grief. We were both going through a lot and . . . sought comfort and escape.”
Emma moved the fork around the lo mein noodles without speaking.
He reached out and grasped her face gently, turning it towards him until she met his gaze. “Wasn’t it the same for you?”
Emma opened her mouth and closed it. Her usually bright blue eyes dimmed. Biting her bottom lip, she looked away and nodded. “It was just a fuck.”
She always looked to the left when she lied. But there was no way he was going to continue this uncomfortable conversation.
“If I could take it back, I would.” He’d take back the pain he’d caused her in an instant.
She winced.
“We good?” he asked before shoving a bite of his sweet and sour chicken into his mouth.
Emma nodded and stuffed a big bite of her own food in her mouth.
Link tapped the remote, turning the TV on, flipping channels until he found some mindless action movie.
They finished the food. He ate the half of Emma’s that she didn’t want. After cleaning up the containers, he stood.
“The movie isn’t over,” Emma pointed out.
He hesitated. He should go. Their earlier conversation was still fresh in his mind.
“Stay?” She patted the spot next to her on the bed. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.” She winked, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Always with the sass. He really shouldn’t.
“Please?” The vulnerability in her voice made his knees go weak. His chest tightened as sadness swirled in those baby blues.
“Alright. Just for a little while.” He climbed onto the bed, sitting against the creaky headboard.
Emma lay down with her head on his thigh, facing the TV.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out as if that would lessen the energy thrumming in his veins from the closeness. He sat as still as possible, hoping she didn’t move too much and become aware of the tent forming in his jeans.
After half an hour, light snores drifted from her sleeping form. He smiled and took the time to admire her. Spreading his fingers through her fine hair, he brushed a few strands that had fallen in front of her angelic face. The lights from the TV reflected against her porcelain skin, her blond eyelashes fluttering in her deep sleep.
Link dragged a knuckle over her cheek, ignoring the lurch in his heart. Touching her silky skin was the closest thing to heaven—and that was a problem.
No, they weren’t really related, genetically or legally. What if he gave in to this pull? What if she wanted him back? What if he could hold her like this every night? Kiss her when he wanted?
He shook his head. He’d never know. Everyone in Shattered Cove saw them as brother and sister. If they found out and the media got a hold of it, she’d become a pariah. The couple everyone laughed at behind closed doors, and some in their faces. He’d be the cause of her name being smeared and possibly losing her contract. Not to mention, what would his father think of this?
