Page 140 of One Big Little Secret

I open my eyes, falling into the hazel wonder of her gaze underneath me.

“Are you okay?” she whispers.

“No. Did you know you’re the sexiest work of art to ever exist?” I grind out.

Do you have any fucking idea how impossible it’ll be to let you go?Thank God I still have enough wits to not ask her that.

The smile that curves her mouth ignites her eyes to gold.

If I had a superpower, I’d hit pause. I’d freeze time so I never had to stop seeing her smile like this.

“It’s been a pretty amazing weekend. I’ll give you that,” she says.

Reluctantly, I roll off her and hit the stone patio under us with a grunt. I lie there for a solid minute before I have the bones to grab a towel and help her clean up.

“You know what?” I tell her as we head back inside and flop down on the bed together. She snuggles right up to me like she was made to fit in the curve of my body. “There’s no rule that says thishasto stop once we climb on the jet home. Nothing besides the stupid little handshake agreement we made up.”

“What do you mean?” She stares at me intently. “Patton Rory, are you second-guessing?”

“What do you think, Salem? I’m not second-guessing shit. I’ve made a decision. This thing we’re doing now that’s better than any high. The kissing, the sex, the pretend dating—it doesn’t have to end. I don’t want to put a pin in it. Yeah, I know you’ve got Arlo to think about and you’ll be happy to get home, but I just—”

“It doesn’t have to end,” she echoes roughly.

It’s my turn to stare while her eyes glow like gold discs.

“If you’re cool with this evolving… so am I. But there’s something you should really know first.” She twists around to face me, suddenly twisting the covers around herself protectively, her eyes too wide and glistening.

All the peace and contentment that was there seconds ago has shattered. I don’t understand.

“What is it, Lady Bug? What’s wrong?”

“Arlo, that’s what.” She hesitates, clearing her throat. “He’s—he’s your son. Arlo’s your son, Patton.”

What. The. Fuck.

My heart damn near rips through my chest like an alien monster as she twists around to hide her face.

There’s no way. It doesn’t add up.

Salem Hopper, one-night stand from six years ago. And Arlo, he’s her five-year-old kid with lightning blue eyes and dark hair and an endless appetite for shit-stirring.

Arlo, he’s—

Oh, fuck.

He’s mine.

17

DOUBLE OR NOTHING (SALEM)

Have you ever fallen down the stairs?

You know that awful moment when you’re tripping.

Your foot skids off the edge or hits something that shouldn’t be there, off by mere inches, destroying your balance.

You feel the ground shift and reach out desperately for something to grab on to.

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