Page 219 of One Big Little Secret

There’s nothing I want to do more right now than swing her into my arms and kiss her until she can’t remember her own name.

But a lot needs to happen first.

So I just take my sweet time hugging Arlo until he wiggles, then I set him down.

Behind Salem, Mom gives me a knowing smile and holds her arms out. “Come on, little monster,” she says. “Colt has some old Legos in the library and he’s waiting for you.”

“I have Lego dinosaurs,” Arlo tells me before he scampers away, taking Mom’s hand as easily as she offered it.

I blink at the interaction, letting it soak in, smiling like the biggest idiot on Earth.

The kids must know they’re related. They all know about Arlo.

Shit, they know aboutme.

Salem doesn’t move, her hazel eyes fixed on my face with the same wariness as before. The egomaniac in me hoped she might throw herself at me in relief that I’m back and everything’s sorted. Though I guess she doesn’t know it yet.

“I found Evelyn,” I say. “Handed her straight to the police. They’ll prosecute her soon, and it should be an open-and-shut case with the confession I recorded. There’s a chance we might track down Mom’s jewelry, too, though the dealer who got it sold some pieces off already.”

“What about your money?” The ghost of a frown she’s wearing touches her eyes.

“I don’t give a shit. I can live without it and so can my brothers. That’s not why I went after her.”

She swallows thickly.

I take a step toward her, and to my relief, she doesn’t bolt away.

Not even when I’m standing in front of her, gazing down into hot honey-brown eyes that haven’t stopped haunting me since the day I walked out.

“I did it for Arlo,” I tell her. “For you.”

I think she’s stopped breathing. This would be a fine moment for the conversation we need to have, but if I know my brothers, they’re just waiting for the perfect opportunity to burst in and ruin everything.

Privacy isn’t their strong suit.

“Let’s talk in the garden,” I suggest, reaching for her hand, then stopping.

Slow and steady, that’s the play here. We need to smooth out the wrinkles first before I can kiss her, even if her lips are constant torture.

And those plush lips part as she takes a breath. Her gaze drops to my hand, a hint of confusion forming before she nods.

We walk together in silence, giving me time to think about how I don’t know what to say.

Feelings were never my strong suit.

I can do charm, I can do seduction, I can do grand gestures. But this—talking about what I really want and why it’s her—it’s foreign as hell when you’ve always kept a barbed wire fence around your inner self.

Before I can blink, we’re in the garden and she’s looking up at me expectantly.

I still have absolutely no idea what to say.

Fuck.

I’ve never had a beautiful woman who means the world looking at me with so much hope welling in her eyes.

“Salem, I’m sorry,” I say roughly. “For leaving. For flying off the handle and going rogue, even if I knew it was right. And I’m sorry for leaving you in the dark.”

Her eyes narrow, just enough to send ice down my spine. “Honestly, I wondered if you were coming back at all…”

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