Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,115

do. But her death had left him with no one to blame for her betrayal. Except his brother.

If Luis were truly honest, like Sara had asked him to be, it wasn’t Enrique he was angry with. It was himself. For not seeing the signs. For getting so swept up in his saving-the-world mentality, he didn’t realize that Mirna didn’t really love him. And what he felt for her had been more a sense of obligation and compassion.

Nothing like the love he felt for Sara.

Because he did love her. Dios mío, how he loved her.

The admission knocked his legs out from under him, as if one of his siblings had snuck up behind him to swipe behind his knees. Luis crumbled to the concrete dock, catching himself with a hand and wincing when several sharp pebbles gouged his palm.

His elbow buckled and he landed on his ass, his feet dangling off the edge.

He stayed there, long after the sunset had faded. The dock and beach area emptied and a purply gray night brightened by fluorescent streetlights descended. The full moon illuminated a wavery silver path across the water’s surface. And still, Luis couldn’t bring himself to leave.

His phone buzzed in his shorts pocket and he dug it out. Carlos’s name scrolled across the screen.

For a second, Luis thought about not answering it. Staying in his desolate world, apart from everyone.

Whether due to fate or God or a nerve tic, his thumb tapped the green icon to accept the call.

“Hey, ’mano, what’s going on?” Carlos’s cheerful voice sounded loud in the quiet of the empty dock.

“Catching sunset.”

“You mean you were; it’s nine thirty. My bad, am I interrupting romantic time with Sara?”

Luis watched a fish jump in the water. The splash sent concentric circles across the surface, growing bigger, then disappearing as if they had never been. Would Sara, after creating such a huge splash in his life, disappear now that he had screwed things up?

“Hello, you still there? Need me to let you get back to Sara?” Carlos asked.

“No. It’s just me.”

“At Mallory Square?”

“No, I’m at South Beach. Look, did you need something?” he barked, frustrated with the who’s-on-first routine with his brother.

“Co?o, what crawled up your shirt? Gina and I finally got the boys in bed and I figured I’d see how it went out on the Fired Up with her familia. But I can see you’re in butthead mode. Frankly, I’d hoped being with someone as cool as Sara would knock some sense into your sorry ass.”

“My sorry ass messed things up. It’s over.”

The admission slipped out before Luis could stop it.

Several beats of silence passed; then he heard Carlos tell Gina, “I’ll be right back, babe.”

The heavy scraping sound of a sliding glass door in need of WD-40 opening, then closing, carried through the phone. He figured Carlos had moved outside by their pool for some privacy.

“What the hell’s going on?” his brother asked, concern weaving through his tough-love act.

Luis heaved a sigh, part of him wanting to stick with his regular nothing, I’m fine. But that way led to more of this. Him sitting alone. Pining for the woman he loved.

“I’m hanging out here on the dock at South Beach asking myself the same damn question,” he admitted.

“You want me to come meet you? Maybe grab a beer at Waterfront Brewery?”

Luis dug two fingers in the space between his brows, massaging at the headache throbbing behind his eyes. “You’re probably not the brother I need to talk to.”

“Wait a second, qué dijiste?”

“Don’t be a jerk; you heard what I said.”

Luis didn’t have to be with Carlos to guess that the jokester probably had a finger stuck in his ear, pretending to clear out the cobwebs, certain he was hearing things.

“It’s the same damn thing Sara insisted. Before I told her to mind her own business and walked out.”

Picturing her anguish, the tears he had caused, gutted him.

“Look, you know me,” Carlos finally said, all trace of humor gone from his voice. “I don’t do that woo-woo, let’s talk about our feelings crap. I’ve never pushed you to see a shrink who’s gonna ask what you see when you look at a blob of ink that’s like something one of my boys painted in art. Like I said before, you gotta find a way to get over what happened. Especially if it’s screwing up what you’ve got going with Sara now.”

Luis hung his head. Like an anchor tied around his neck, the weight of past hurts dragged him