Page 26 of The Bridges I've Burned

I heard a chorus of female laughter, and I felt a slight sense of relief. At least no one was sleeping. Raising my hand to the door, I forced myself to knock.

No turning back now.

“Can you get that, Elena?” I heard someone shout. “I need more coffee for this shit.”

I grinned, realizing that voice probably belonged to my soon-to-be sister-in-law. A moment passed and then another until finally the door creaked open.

My world tilted.

“Louie?”

“Hey, Trouble.”

Her name was Elena Mendez.

The mystery woman from the bar, who I’d playfully nicknamed Louie, was actually named Elena, and she was currently staring at me from the opposite side of the threshold.

I knew Ocracoke was small, but this?

This was fucking insane.

Marin, my brother’s fiancée, recognized me immediately, her eyes widening as she took in my massive frame from across the room.

Does my brother have pictures of me?

I must have stunned her slightly because she wordlessly motioned me in, meeting me in the middle of the living room like we were old friends. She wrapped her arms around my stiff body while I silently tracked Elena as she stepped into the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Marin said, her eyes misting with unshed tears. “I have to go call Macon. I’ll—I’ll be right back.”

She rushed down the hall, leaving my not-so-mystery dinner date and me alone.

“So,” I said, running my tongue along the back of my teeth. “Elena, huh?”

She bit the inside of her cheek as her arms folded in front of her. “Yep. And you must be Zander, the long-lost brother?”

I merely nodded.

An uncomfortable silence settled between us, one that hadn’t been present the night before. I took the opportunity to look around, noticing the oil paintings that hung on the walls and the photos that lined the mantel.

“I take it, you’re one of Marin’s friends?”

“Best friend,” she corrected. “And sister-in-law.”

My brow rose in confusion, and then I remembered the one personal detail she’d managed to reveal to me. “Your brother?”

She gave me a solemn nod. “Marin’s first husband. He died in the ferry accident six years ago.”

Jesus. My brother was marrying a widow? I took another turn around the room, realizing how little I knew about him.

It doesn’t matter.

You’re leaving tomorrow anyway.

Marin chose that moment to reappear, coming from the hallway and into the kitchen. She was just as stunning in person as their engagement photo. Tall with slim curves and dark brown waves. In her casual leggings and blouse, she was Elena’s opposite in almost every way.

Looking like she’d just stepped out of a Parisian cafe, Elena’s version of casual was a pair of black linen pants that cinched at the ankle, highlighting her chunky sandals and perfectly painted toes. Her tight white tank top accentuated her abundant curves and bronze skin. And if I didn’t stop staring, I was sure both women would start to notice.

“Macon is already on his way home,” Marin informed me. “He was at the station, but it’s technically his day off.” She paused, her cheeks flushing red before she added, “Macon’s the sheriff. I guess I should have led with that.”

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