Page 309 of Sin Bin

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist that zinger. It’ll be my last one, I promise.” She gave him another headshake. “Boy, you’ve really landed yourself in the mother of all sin bins, haven’t you? Maybe I should start calling you ‘Sin Bin’ since you can’t stay out of trouble.”

Logan glared at her. “One more crack and I’m putting your ass out.”

She threw back her head and laughed.

He scowled, bouncing his leg under the counter.

Cynara sobered after a few moments, her dark gray eyes examining him until he frowned irritably and snapped, “What?”

Her expression softened. “Remember that time Mom went out of town and Dad couldn’t get off from work, so he had to take me with him to the group home? This was before you were adopted. We met for the first time that day. It was also the day Dad took all of us hiking in the mountains. Do you remember?”

Logan nodded mutely.

“You don’t know this,” Cynara went on, “but I was watching you that day. You and Meadow. I saw the way you stole looks at each other when the other wasn’t paying attention. I saw how tender you were with her, the way you helped her over the rocks so she wouldn’t hurt herself.”

“I helped other girls, too,” Logan grumbled.

“Not that I remember. You certainly didn’t help me.”

He snorted. “You had a stick up your ass. You would have refused my help.”

“Probably.” A smile softened her lips. “My point is that you’ve always been super protective of Meadow. Because of what I saw that day, I know you would never deliberately hurt her. You’d sooner cut off your right arm than cause her any pain.” She paused. “But the reality is that you did hurt her, Logan. You hurt her and betrayed her trust.”

“You think I don’t know that? It’s all I’ve been thinking about since Saturday night.” He raked his fingers through his hair, scraping hard over his scalp. “I’m not responsible for that broad hitting on me, but I knew what she was after as soon as she showed up. I should have gotten the hell out of there the second she touched me. But I didn’t, and I’ll have to live with the consequences for the rest of my fucking life.”

Cynara studied him sympathetically. “I didn’t come here to make you feel worse. I can see you’re drowning in an ocean of guilt and self-recrimination. You certainly don’t need me to pile on.”

Logan swallowed a hard lump and stared down at the countertop, his leg bouncing faster.

“I’m sorry,” Cynara said quietly.

His eyes snapped up to her face. “Sorry for what?”

She looked mournful. “I’ve spent so much time hating you and blaming you for my parents’ divorce, and that was incredibly unfair to you. You had a horrific childhood. You were abandoned by parents who should have been there to take care of you and protect you. You were as much a victim as I was—more, actually, because you suffered in ways I could never imagine.” Her voice softened with regret. “My anger and resentment have been terribly misplaced. I was wrong to cast you as the villain in my Shakespearean family tragedy. My father is the only one who bears responsibility for hurting my mother and me. I hope you can forgive me for the way I’ve treated you all these years.”

Logan stared at her for a long, stunned moment.

She stared back at him, her eyes shiny with tears.

When he rose from the stool, she gathered him close and hugged him tightly. It was the first time she’d ever shown him such kindness and warmth. It broke him down a little.

“I love you, brother,” she whispered.

His chest tightened with emotion. “Love you, too.”

When she released him, he was embarrassed to feel tears pressing against the back of his eyelids. He coughed gruffly to clear his throat.

Cynara sniffled and dabbed delicately at her eyes, trying to blot her tears without smudging her perfect makeup.

When they finished composing themselves, they shared a sheepish grin, recognizing that they’d just made an important breakthrough in their relationship. Roxanne would be overjoyed.

“So,” Cynara said casually, “do you want me to talk to Meadow?”

“No way. Absolutely not.” Logan paused a beat. “What would you say?”

Cynara grinned. “I’m sure I could think of something. I’m extraordinarily gifted with words.”

“True,” he agreed. “You’ve always been a master bullshitter.”

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