Page 54 of One Big Little Secret

His eyes brighten. Their glacial, soulless blue doesn’t feel as arctic as usual.

“Don’t get carried away,” he says with a sly whisper of a smile. “I’ll ask my mother for recommendations. If you can find enough room in the budget to get these soaps into every room, it’s a deal.”

“Of course I will!” I’m gushing confidence now. All because a man whose approval I’m not supposed to care about hasn’t blown my idea out of the water.

If anything, he seems surprised, but in a good way.

Not like when Arlo kicked him in the shin.

“Before I ask, do you have any sellers in mind?”

“I can have a look around locally and see what matches our aesthetic. Otherwise, I’m happy to check out whatever you bring back.”

“I’ll get my mom on it. She never turns down a little sleuthing.” He digs his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “She’s the artistic one in the family, not counting my nephew. It skips a generation or some shit.”

Whoa. Did he just admit there’s something he’s not good at?

“Honestly, I don’t have much of an eye for art. But I’m trying.”

“It’s a good start, Miss Hopper.”

“Salem,” I say.

His blue eyes become glinting stars, brighter than ever.

Wow. When he’s not scowling fit to ruin his face, when he lookswarm,he brings me back to that night.

The transformation shocks me. He suddenly looks like a man whose company I might enjoy.

“Salem,” he repeats, testing the word like he’s tasting it in his mouth, savoring the flavor like melting chocolate.

Holy hell. It’s more intimate than I expected, more than any time he’s said it before.

“Anyway.”Back to work things. “I should have the reports for you pretty soon.”

“Cool. Looking forward to it.” He gives the screen a quick glance. “Don’t work yourself to death. I don’t need them immediately. I also don’t need you burning your evenings here and missing time with your son.”

My throat tightens.

Yeah, this other Patton is definitely worse. I have no idea what to do when he’s making himself so hard to hate.

“It’s cool. I’d rather get this done.”

“Only if you’re pacing yourself.” He pushes off the wall, ready to leave—and about time, too, seeing as this is the longest we’ve ever spent in each other’s company without plotting mutual murder.

It does nothing for my state of mind, especially his eyes, so dangerously close to the looks he gave me when we—

No.

Then I hear him sigh and he stops, turns, and looks at me again.

“Listen, there’s a group from out of town hanging out at the rooftop bar if you want to clock out early,” he says. “You know, real estate agent types. I said I’d stop by and talk to them. The bar’s open and comped if you want to finish up early and relax with a drink.”

“Um, thanks. But I said I wanted to get this done before the weekend…”

The warmth leaves his face and his eyebrows pull down.

Ah, yes, Grumpybutt returns.

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