Page 60 of One Big Little Secret

Yeah, but my dick doesn’t know how to tell time, and neither does that little part of my monkey brain that thinks the only man she ought to have in bed is me.

She makes a raspy breath again.

The odds of this going well just plummeted to zero.

I’m half tempted to disconnect and text her instead when I hear her say, “Arlo, if you don’t knock it off and get your pj’s on in sixty seconds, I’ll put them on for you. Don’t be a baby.”

I am the world’s biggest idiot.

Of course, she’s mothering the hellspawn.

I throw together a quick, simple martini from the bar, pouring vermouth while I wait.

When she comes back, she’s just as breathy and apologetic as I’ve come to expect.

“Sorry about that. I usually have him in bed by now, but I got home late.”

“It’s after nine,” I say, failing to hide the surprise in my voice.

“There was a lot to do at the office. All of those expenses and receipts you wanted me to get to accounting don’t organize themselves.”

My lip curls, knowing it could’ve waited for a few days.

So maybe I’m not the only one with a workaholic problem.

“I’m sorry for calling you this late, but a new learning opportunity came up and I’d like to bring you along.”

“Learning opportunity?” she asks warily.

“Mentoring. I’m delivering some practical advice to an old family friend, and I thought you might want to sit in on themeeting to observe. It’s a good chance to see how I work one-on-one with clients.”

“Tomorrow?” She hesitates and I hear her whisper, “I’ll say good night in a second, okay, big guy? Read your picture book.” Then her voice gets stronger again. “Patton, I don’t know if I can do Saturday. I promised Arlo we’d go sledding by the river while we still have enough snow from that last storm. You know it doesn’t always last around here.”

“It won’t take all day. I can give you a ride, before and after. Or, if you prefer, the sitter could take him sledding while you’re at the meeting.”

“No. You don’t owe me any special favors,” she says sharply. “I know we have a history, but I’m over it. And I’m even more over obsessing about it…”

Like I’m not? Is that what she’s implying?

“So am I,” I bite off.Goddamn.“I don’t ask any of my employees to work unnecessary weekends on short notice without making accommodations for them.”

There’s a silence.

I sip my martini, wishing I’d just poured straight vodka. A cocktail feels too lightweight for dealing with this impossible woman.

“Okay, fine,” she says. “If there’s something for Arlo to do during the meeting, I guess it could work. If you’re willing, it would be great if you could pick us up and drop us off by the river later…”

If Mom has anything to do with it, there’ll be plenty for him to do.

“I promise you he’ll be entertained,” I say. “My mom loves kids.”

“Your mom?”

“The meeting’s at her house. Like I said, a close friend of the family. That’s what makes the stakes higher, and I want you tosit in and watch how I handle them. So, I’ll pick you up around eleven. Hopefully that’s a reasonable time?”

“Sure. Eleven’s great.”

Without giving her a chance to say anything more, I hang up.

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