Page 49 of One Big Little Secret

“Come in.”

Out of habit, I glance at the clock. It’s past seven p.m. already.

What’s she doing here so late?

Normal folks with lives and families are home and fed by now. I’m stunned she isn’t with her son.

Then I see the little boy standing behind her with an evil gleam in his eyes like I’m the prick who’s keeping them from dinner.

“Miss Hopper. Hopper Junior.” I stand, hoping my disappointment doesn’t show in my face. “What brings you by so late?”

“I just wanted to grab some marketing books Dexter recommended. I’m trying to get better at copywriting,” she says. “He said you had them in here, like your own shared library. I guess I was surprised.”

Yeah, that’s what I get for having an office with custom shelves since my cheap-ass brothers skimped on furniture when we set up the place.

And what the hell? When did she meet my other lame brother? I thought I was the mentor?

Not that I’ve been doing much mentoring.

“I have a lot of books. I do know how to read,” I grumble, wondering why I didn’t notice the winter draft seeping inthrough the walls until now. “Have a look and take whatever you want.”

“Thanks!”

She darts past me, looking as tired as I’d expect after a full workweek with a kid who’s—a fucking handful, that’s for sure.

Probably like a handful of angry scorpions.

I lean against the desk and watch her. My eyes follow her as she scans the shelves, her little fingers running over the spines of the books as she takes in the titles.

Watch her hands, you idiot. Eyes off her ass.

Easier said than done.

Then little Arlo runs up and kicks me in the shin.

Not hard—he’s a kid, thankfully—but it’s jolting enough to shock me out of my stupor.

“Don’t look at my mom like that!” he shouts.

“Like what?” I ask before I can help myself.Bad question.

“Like you wanna eat her. Like a shark!” He tries to kick me again, but Salem runs over and starts dragging him backward, her hair flying as she grabs him.

“Arlo! That’s no way to behave. I know you’ve been reading your Animal World books,” she tells him in a whisper, “but you can’t go around calling people animals, all right? And you definitely can’t kick people. Do it again, and you’re grounded. Remember what Mr. Lee said in karate? Self-defenseonly.”

She signed this little punk up for martial arts? What the hell?

He sticks his bottom lip out and glowers at me again.

Right back at you, munchkin.

Shit, if he carries on like this in life, he may need all the self-defense lessons he can get. And where is the boy’s father, anyway?

I hope he’s not ghosting him, making the kid act out.

Nothing screams bigger chickenshit coward than a man who abandons his own son and lets him turn into a brat with a chip on his shoulder bigger than a redwood.

“I am so, so sorry, Mr. Rory. Arlo, he’s still working on his discipline with practicing his karate moves. Not his strongest point,” Salem says, straightening her back and looking at me. No, not quite at me—her gaze lands on the wall just past me, like she can’t bear to look me in the face. “He’s been taking lessons for a while. I guess he got a little overexcited. When we get home, we’re going to work on talking about our feelings, rather than taking them out on strangers.”

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