Entangled Moments (Moments in Time) (7 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Sunlight poured through the window and coated the white
sheets in gold. I’d been awake for hours.

I rolled and turned to face Nick, who was still fast asleep,
one arm curled over his head, his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, hair
disheveled. I wanted to wake him, to see his eyes once more.

Leaning closer, I scattered butterfly kisses on his
forehead, his nose, his lips. I prepared to plant another on the side of his
neck when a dark, dime-sized, kidney-shaped mark caught my eye. So small and easy
to miss, but I’d seen it before. On Chris. The exact same birthmark. Same size,
same place.

A knot formed in my stomach, and bile rose up my throat.

Why would Nick have the same birthmark as my dead fiancé? It
made no sense. But my gut told me there was more to Nick that I didn’t know—and
wasn’t sure I wanted to. I peeled the sheet from my body, grabbed a robe, and
tiptoed to the bathroom. I closed the door but didn’t lock it, so as not to
raise suspicion.

Gripping the basin with both hands until my knuckles
whitened, I squeezed my eyes shut. With every fiber of my being, I wished what
I’d just seen meant nothing. That it was a simple coincidence.

But I couldn’t spend the rest of the weekend with Nick. As
long as I was this confused, I had to leave.

I needed to find out the truth.

***

I was brushing my teeth with one of the new toothbrushes I
found at the basin when Nick walked in, a towel around his waist, his hair
messy.

It would be so hard to leave him. Especially since he looked
so handsome. His broad shoulders, his smooth, muscular chest and biceps made me
want to touch him. But I feared this thing between us might be more complicated
than I had anticipated. Maybe it wasn’t a simple story of boy meets girl and falls
in love.

“Morning, beautiful.” He kissed my neck, picked up the other
toothbrush, and squeezed toothpaste onto the bristles.

“Morning.” I rinsed my mouth, trying to find a way to tell
him I had to go.

He held his toothbrush in midair. “Are you okay?”

I wiped my mouth with a fluffy towel, avoiding his eyes. “I’m
fine. I’m sorry, Nick. I need to leave today.” I looked up then.

Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “Where are you going? I thought—”

“Home. I can’t spend any more time with you.”

“Did I do something to upset you? Offend you in any way? I
thought we both had a wonderful time last night.”

“I did, I really did. It’s just that I promised to help out
at Oasis this weekend. I can’t let them down.” Last night, when we took breaks
between lovemaking, I’d opened up to him about working at the shelter, and he’d
been impressed.

I walked back into the bedroom, and Nick followed,
toothbrush still in hand.

I gathered my clothes and felt his eyes on me.

Before he could guilt me into staying, I slipped into my
dress and sandals, grabbed my purse, and headed for the door. “Bye, Nick.”

“Carlene,” he called, as my hand reached for the doorknob.

“You don’t really need to go, do you?”

I bit my lip and didn’t respond for a while. He could tell I
was lying. But I saw no other way to remove myself from this situation. “I do.”
I opened the door and almost collided with someone carrying a breakfast tray.

“Room service?” the woman asked.

I turned to look back at Nick. He had ordered breakfast, and
I was leaving him hanging. He cocked his head to one side as if to ask if I’d
change my mind.

I shook my head and walked past the woman without looking
back.

***

Back at my apartment, I switched on my computer and opened the
Internet browser. My shaking fingers flew over the keyboard as I started a
search.

First, I typed “Nick Johnson” and then “Christopher Brown.”
Nothing useful. There was a lot about Nick, as I’d expected, and little about
Chris, except about him being captain of his football team in college.

I’d just closed an article when a thought crossed my mind.
Fingers shaking, I typed in “Nick Johnson and brother.” Chris had been adopted,
so there was a possibility.

As the search results came up, I slipped my bottom lip
between my teeth and bit on it, drawing blood. I clicked on the first article: “Nick
Johnson meets long lost brother.” The first photo was of the two men hugging
and laughing. One of them I had loved, and the other I loved. The further I
scrolled down the page, the more I gasped for breath. Nick and Chris were not
only brothers—they were twins, separated at birth.

I clapped a hand over my mouth and darted to the bathroom,
fell to my knees, and retched into the toilet bowl as tears flooded my eyes.

Chapter Fourteen

For one week, I couldn’t face the world. Seeing Nick was out
of the question.

How could I see him and not tell him the truth? How could I
listen to him talk about his brother when I kept a devastating secret from him?
It killed me to willingly choose to walk out of his life, but it was better
than being thrown out of it when he discovered the truth. It would only be a
matter of time.

“But you love him. You can’t walk away from a good thing,”
Melisa urged. She was the only person I could bring myself to talk to.

I placed her cup of coffee on the table in front of her and
cupped my own mug with both hands. The heat comforted me. “You don’t understand,
Melisa. He will find out.”

“Or maybe he won’t.”

I sipped my coffee and stared out the window, watching the
clear morning sky, listening to the sounds of traffic outside. “It’s impossible
to keep a thing like that from someone.”

“And yet it happens all the time. For instance, do you have any
idea how many kids are raised by men who aren’t their biological fathers?”

“Yes, until the child falls sick and needs some organ only
the real father can donate.”

“That only happens in the movies. In real life, people are
better at hiding secrets.”

I lifted my feet up onto the couch and crossed my legs. “I
don’t want to lie to him. He deserves better.”

Melisa grasped my hand and her eyes grew serious. “He deserves
you, and you deserve him.”

“No, it’s not right. I have to tell him. I forgot the slip
of paper I’d written his number on at the hotel, so I’ll go back to work on
Monday and wait for him to show up.”

“You have to think about this carefully. This could change
everything. He might never forgive you.”

“ Maybe he will. I’ll explain everything. If not, at least I’ll
know I did the right thing.”

Sunday evening, I stood in front of the mirror and rehearsed
how I would tell Nick the truth. After repeating a string of words to myself for
almost thirty minutes, I showered and went to bed.

***

The doorbell woke me up around two a.m. I slipped into my
satin robe and stumbled to the door.

It had to be Melisa. She visited me often now. But never so
late.

I yanked the door open and green eyes stared back at me. “Nick.”
I swallowed hard.

“Can I come in?”

“Hmmm... Yes.” I stepped aside. My hand grasped the door for
support. I wasn’t prepared to see him yet.

“How did you know where I lived?” I asked, closing the door.

“You gave me your address at the hotel. We were supposed to
have dinner at your place tomorrow night. Or have you forgotten that?” Nick’s
gaze swept the room. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” My apartment was airy and comfortable. A big
contrast to how I felt. “What are you doing here?” I sat on the couch, hands
tucked under my bottom so he couldn’t see them shaking.

“I missed you. We spent a great night together, and then you
don’t call for a week and don’t answer my calls? What’s going on? Have I upset
you in some way?”

I shook my head and blinked back tears.

Nick came to sit next to me, and drew me close. “Then what
is it? Why do you look so upset?”

“It’s nothing...” I’d planned to tell him the truth, but now
the knot in my stomach rose up and choked me.

He shot to his feet and paced the room. “I don’t get this.
There’s obviously something wrong. Why won’t you talk to me?”

“I can’t.”

Nick ran both hands through his hair and sat back down. “You
can tell me anything, anything at all. Whatever’s bothering you, we can work
through it together. I promise you that.”

“No, we can’t... Nick, I—”

“Look,” he said seriously. “It was not a coincidence that we
met that day at the chapel. We were meant to walk into each other’s lives. That’s
why we bumped into each other again at Stalford. I feel so much for you. I’d
like to believe you feel the same for me. When we were together, I really felt you
liked me as much as I like you.”

“I do, I really do. But—”

“Let’s not throw this away. One doesn’t come across
something like this often. Carlene, I want to be with you. I know you’re still
healing from the loss of your ex, and that’s why you’re holding back, but I am
in love with all of you. We can work through this together.”

I rose to my feet and went to stand by the window, gazing
into the darkness. “There’s too much you don’t know about me.”

“Tell me, baby. Let me in, so I can get to know you.”

“I can’t.”

He didn’t say anything more, but I could hear him shuffling
around behind me.

He approached me, but I didn’t turn to face him. He stood so
close that heat radiated from his body to mine.

My heart skipped a beat.

As he pressed the length of his body against mine, his erection
hard against my butt, he made me forget about my plans to confess.

“Tell me you don’t miss this.” Nick wrapped his arms around
me and slipped one hand inside the robe. He cupped my breast, and with the
other hand, unraveled the cord of my bathrobe and peeled it off. The satin
material brushed against my body and pooled at my feet.

The confession would have to wait. I needed Nick. Just in
case I never got the chance to be so close to him again.

I shivered as he moved his free hand toward my panties.

With just a finger, he removed them from the area he was
interested in and pushed them to my knees. He paused and took his hands away from
my body, leaving me cold. He unbuckled his belt, unwrapped a condom. His warm breath
caressed my skin as he slid it on. Then he pulled me close again, bent me
forwarded, and parted my legs with his knees, opening me up to him. My breath
caught as he gripped my thighs and pushed into me, igniting me.

He slid in and out slowly at first, and then faster and
harder, as our moans, groans, sighs, and my screams merged into one.

I gyrated my hips from side to side, feeling all of him. It
was hungry, painful, beautiful sex that stole my breath.

Together Nick and I rose up the ladder of passion, higher
and higher, until we climaxed at the same time.

Panting, Nick straightened me but didn’t pull out. His arms remained
wrapped around my body. He kissed my neck and the back of my ear. “Tell me you
can live without this and I’ll leave.”

“I can’t,” I whispered. But inside, guilt gnawed at me. It
couldn’t go on like this. He had to know. “But we need to talk.”

“Yes, we do.” He slid out then, and I turned to face him.

“I’ll go and have a quick shower first, is that okay?” I
needed time to prepare myself for a moment that might just change everything.

“Take as long as you need. I’ll be here.”

When, five minutes later, I walked out of the bathroom,
drying my hair, my eyes zoomed in on what Nick held in his hand, and my heart
stopped. He held a framed photograph of Chris.

“Who is this?” he asked, his face ashen.

I leaned against the doorframe for support, suddenly dizzy
with fear. “I... I... Nick...”

“Answer me, dammit!” he shouted, his voice a blade of steel
that cut right through me. “What are you doing with my brother’s photo?” His
eyes were daggers. “Who are you?”

“Nick.” I walked to him and tried to touch him, but he
yanked his arm away. “You’re her, aren’t you?
You
are Marianne Adams,
the woman who shot and killed my brother.”

“I can explain.” Tears welled up in my eyes and flooded my
throat. “I wanted to tell you.” My first name was Marianne, but after Chris
died I wanted to be someone else, and I started using my middle name instead.

He threw the photo onto the couch and grabbed his suit jacket.
“What’s there to explain? You killed my brother,” he shouted.

I sank to the couch. “Yes,” I muttered. “But it was a
mistake. The police confirmed it.”

“I don’t give a damn what the police think. How can a killer
be innocent? You pulled the trigger. That makes you guilty of murder.” He
leaned on the wall for support. His brows knitted and his eyes narrowed to blazing
slits. “How could you not tell me? How could you make me find out like this?”

“Please sit,” I begged through my tears. “Allow me to
explain.”

He straightened up again and wiped his eyes with the back of
his hand. “No.” He walked to the door. “I know the truth now. All I need is for
you to stay the hell out of my life. You belong behind bars.”

“Please, don’t say that.” I shot up from the couch and ran
after him as he barged through the door. I followed him, barefoot, all the way
to his car, shouting his name. But I was too late.

Nick climbed into the Porsche, slammed the door shut, and
drove away.

I fell to my knees on the sidewalk—not caring that grains of
sand dug into my skin—and buried my face in my hands, weeping. He would never
forgive me. My happy ending had turned into a nightmare. But I wanted him back.
So much that it hurt. But how could he love his brother’s killer?

END BOOK 1

CLICK
HERE
TO PURCHASE REKINDLED MOMENTS (MOMENTS IN TIME #2).