Page 154 of One Big Little Secret

She touches the small of my back.

A tiny gesture, but it’s enough.

“You’re a good teacher. I’m surprised,” Salem says, “but don’t you guys want to watch a movie? I was thinkingSpider-Man.”

The minute he hears that word, Arlo’s interest shifts.

He starts wiggling until I’m forced to put him down and he runs out of the room, stopping just short of skidding across the wood floor.

“Be careful!” Salem shouts again. The blue lights wash out her face, making her look pale. “I’m so sorry. He’s been giddy about this all day. He’s a lot to handle when he gets into his hyper puppy mode.”

“I know the feeling,” I say, surprising myself. “It’s nice as hell to spend time with him.”

“You mean when he’s not kicking you and ruining your clothes?” She laughs and leans up to offer a kiss.

I take her lips, parting them just enough to feel her breath as I slide a hand around her waist, then pull away before I can’t control myself.

“We should head downstairs before he finds us. No need to repeat that incident.” Before she starts moving, I lean in close to her ear. “Later, Salem. I’m going to break the bed with you tonight.”

I love the way she shivers, the movement accenting her ass in those apple bottom jeans as she speeds away, throwing me a devilish smile.

Is it bad that a small part of me wanted the kid to walk in while we’re kissing?

Then we could move past this.

Then he could understand, in his own little way, that I’m the guy with his mom and I’m not going anywhere.

For a second, I’m alone with the fish. The only light coming from the tank throws an eerie glow over my face.

So far, it’s almost too perfect. Only, behind that glass, there’s a stark reminder that chaos is always just a breath away, waiting to break through.

Sighing, I follow her downstairs.

They’ve already found my theater room with the huge screen and large leather seats that can swallow a person for days. The dark space still manages to look cozy.

They’re already perched on the longer sofa, sunk into the plush cushions.

“You have a lot of pillows for a single dude. So colorful too,” Salem watches me toss the extras on the floor as I take the seat beside her with Arlo curled up between us.

“My mom gives me another accent pillow every Christmas. It’s her thing,” I mutter. “Guess she thinks if she buries me alive, it’ll summon a wife from nowhere.”

Salem laughs loudly.

God, I love that sound.

I also wonder if my mother’s black magic worked, considering they’re here and we’re about to have our first family movie night.

The next look she gives me is lidded, more thoughtful, but I don’t let myself dwell on it as I start the movie. Arlo bounces up in his seat, impatiently tapping his thighs.

His excitement is short-lived, though.

We’re less than half an hour in when the exhaustion hits, and his eyelids start drooping. His little head drops against my side and he’s out cold.

That’s where he stays until after the credits roll and Salem’s fingers tighten in mine.

We share a silent, knowing smile.

I never knew how warm and suggestive a human hand could be until I held hers for the last hour.

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