Page 98 of Sinners Reunion

I shrug. “A little thing called DNA. I took a sample before we buried her.”

“I don’t remember that,” Blayne says. “I was there.”

I smile at him. “It was discreet. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, as I wasn’t sure our team could pull a profile. Lucky for us, the idiot didn’t use protection and left a nice sample behind.”

In truth, I know no such thing. As Blayne suspects, I never took any DNA. Thank goodness I’m a convincing liar. Now I just have to hope he didn’t use protection, or this entire plan will implode.

But judging by the sweat popping onto his brow, I’m on the right track. We just have to find a way to get him to announce his failings. Poor Ice Pick won’t believe it unless he hears it straight from the horse’s mouth. Or the jackass’s mouth, in this case.

I continue studying Blayne as the men settle down with their food. Beers are passed around, and jokes and stories abound, but he’s miles away in his head. I mentally give myself a pat on the back.

After a bit, the ladies meander over and join us. Josie gives me a questioning look as she piles ketchup and mustard onto one of those questionable hot dogs, and I give her a nod. She smiles and takes a seat beside Eve in one of the folding chairs.

Now that the entire group is together, my few remaining heartstrings get a bit of a tug. Josie sits among the killers, melding with others in a way I’ve never seen. She’s laughing, engaging, and I don’t know that I have any right to tear her away from this life at the end of the trip.

And I don’t really know that I want to.

Maybe it’s time I retire from more than just my line of work. Maybe I should hang up my walking shoes as well.

I stroke my chin and consider what a life with her would be like. Even aside from the benefit of draining my balls whenever she’s up for it, I can see so many positives to a life with Josie. There would be no need to hide my depravity from her. She shares my sickness. We’re both as possessive as Gollum with his damn ring, so there’s more compatibility there. I keep coming back to the same conclusion.

If ever there were a woman I could settle down with, as much as I can settle down . . . it’s her.

Damn Jim for ever getting me into this mess, and damn me for agreeing to it. How was I supposed to know I’d fall in love and want something for myself? That never factored into my mind, and now? Now it’s consuming me.

There is just one little problem. Josie never wanted kids, and I have four of them.

If I ever plan to confess my love for her, I’ll need to come clean about the experiment, regardless of how that may pan out for me in the end.

I’ll also need her to admit she loves me first. This is one bet I refuse to lose, even if I’ve already lost it.

Because as I look at her in the gleam of moonlight, surrounded by everything I hold dear, I realize I’ve lost. Miserably. I love her, and I don’t know that I ever stopped.

“Truth or dare, King?” Bennett says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I shake my head at him. “I’m far too old for these sorts of games. You kids have your fun.”

“Don’t be such an old man, old man,” Jim says. He stokes the small fire at his feet and smiles at me over the feeble flames. “Truth or dare?”

With a roll of my eyes, I relent. “Truth.”

“What’s your biggest regret?” Bennett asks.

Quiet descends on the group as everyone waits for my answer. I can’t give one. It would tip my hands—both of them. My biggest regrets are the way we handled the experiment and walking away from Josie. If I could go back in time to mend my ways, those would be my only stops.

“Dare,” I say, unwilling to speak my truth.

With a cocky smirk, Bennett leans forward and reaches into his back pocket. He sits upright again and produces a small plastic baggie, inside of which rests a piece of candy. “I dare you to eat this.”

My eyebrow rises. “I’m afraid I don’t imbibe.”

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to answer the question.” Bennett shrugs. “What’ll it be, Pops?”

I lean forward and snatch the baggie from his hand, if only to stop myself from reacting to the fact that he called me Pops. A stupid grin nearly sprang onto my face.

Puh. As if I have the right to feel any joy where my children are concerned.

“At least tell me what I’ll be partaking in,” I grumble as I dump the sugar-encrusted square onto my palm. “I don’t want to end up making a fool of myself like Maverick did on the cruise.”