Page 11 of Dirty Secret

Which absolutely couldn't happen.

I needed this money. I met with the psychologist last week at Kat's school, right after I patched up Heidi's leaking pipe. She told me that my daughter should get tested for Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. In a way, I wasn't surprised. It's a struggle to get Kat to focus and listen to me. There were times when I was right in front of her face calling her name five times before she realized I was there.

What did surprise me was that my crappy insurance would not cover the testing or most of the potential treatments she would need.

As guilty as I felt for exaggerating the cost of the pipe replacement for Heidi, I was thankful she had called me back for the job. I didn't know how I was going to pay for anything Kat needed until I heard from Heidi.

And that made me feel shittier as I imagined what was under her skimpy, creepy shirt while I overcharged her for her pipes.

"I got it. Funny," I said and frowned.

"Okay, well, I'll leave you to it. If you need anything, I'll be upstairs in the kitchen. Got something baking in the oven." With an awkward skip backward, Heidi almost fell before she made it to the stairs. I shook my head and watched her ass sway as she climbed the steps.

I was going to hell.

The most I could do today was patch more pipes that were in danger of breaking within the next few days. If Heidi had one pipe that burst, then there was bound to be more. Taking my flashlight to the ceiling, I noticed two places that needed a temporary patch until the new plumbing arrived.

After shutting off the water valve, I made my way to the washing machine and opened my toolbox. My shoulders deflated at what I didn't find—my wrench. Kat had gotten into my tools . . . again.

The only thing I could do was run home and hope I found it. She had a habit of leaving things in odd places—I once found her shoes in the refrigerator. I could only guess where the wrench would be.

I made my way up the stairs and into the kitchen when I was hit in the face with a mouth-watering smell. It was seductive, like a siren song for my nose, and a total weakness.

I groaned, "Oh, God."

Heidi popped her head up like a groundhog from the other side of the counter. Why was a beautiful woman on the floor in a room producing the most delicious scent?

The answer revealed itself as she stood. If I thought I was seduced by Heidi before, I was a total goner now.

Heidi held a baking sheet of cookies. My mouth drooled. My cock twitched. My mind tried desperately to remember why I came into this room.

I coveted her cookies. My tongue hoping to curl around every last morsel she threw my way.

"Oh, hi. Are you done already?" She placed the tray on the white marble counter. Entranced, I watched as she picked up a spatula and eased the cookies on to a metal cooling rack.

"No." It was all my mouth could get out for I had long been hooked on her drug—snickerdoodles. My heart beat at an alarming rate as I watched each soft baked goodness slide onto the hard metal.

Heidi's mouth curved like the devil. Her creamy, dainty hand extended toward me with the perfect lure. "Would you like a snickerdoodle? I just made them."

The woman was a sorcerer. My mom used to make those all the time when I was little before she got sick. They were the last happy memories I had of her.

"Yes," I said unable to stop myself.

I only ever had snickerdoodles when I was alone because the memories were so powerful. But Heidi holding one in her hand with the aroma surrounding me . . . I caved. No one had the strength to resist that. I didn't even think Superman would have that power.

Snickerdoodles were my kryptonite.

Like some overly prepared hostess, she whipped out a small white plate and placed three cookies in front of me. And when I thought it couldn't get any worse, she pulled out a carton of milk, holding it up. "How about some cool milk with those cookies?"

My cock was rock-hard. I was probably drooling and hated myself. The only thing I could do was nod.

She's too good. I needed to come clean. I wasn't a liar and definitely not a cheat. Even to my worst clients, I would never overcharge them. I should have been honest from the beginning, but the money . . . My daughter needed help, and I was ashamed that I felt I needed to steal money to get it.

What's the worst that could happen when I tell her the truth? She'd fire me. Report me to the Better Business Bureau, and maybe even leave a bunch of scathing reviews on any website that had my plumbing business in its directory.

Not only would I lose out on her business, but no one would hire me anymore. And then there's her lawyer friend, Felipe Aragon. Heidi would definitely take me to court and take what little money I do have.

Her mouth curved into a devilish smile as she patted a stool at the counter for me to sit. Every muscle in my body strained as I sat. My body already began the punishment before I said a word. But she was chastising me too by placing the glass of milk in front of me. Showing me all the beautiful things before ruining my life.