Page 63 of One Big Little Secret

“And your grandparents?” she guesses.

“Great-grandparents, yes. They were thick as thieves back in the day.”

“Wow. It must be kinda nice, having so much history you can look back on. I’m sure it grounds you.”

“Don’t you?” I ask before I can help myself. “Have history, I mean.”

“I mean, my family history isn’t anything like yours… Your family left a mark. A huge one that’ll always be there for the city,” she says dryly, reaching out and touching the corner of the frame like it could transport her back to the 1930s when Truman was first elected senator.

“That’s what it looks like, I guess. Still, we built Higher Ends from the ground up. None of us ever wanted to take the family name or the money for granted.” I turn to face her, and this time she doesn’t flinch. “My family history is insane. This house is insane. Hell,myhouse is pretty decent. But we’re notjustthat, Salem. We’re not bottom-feeders running off the past.”

There’s a flash of understanding in her eyes as she looks up at me.

“You’re carving your own path. That means a lot to you, huh?”

“Damn right,” I grind out. For the first time, I appreciate how good she looks with the coat and winter gear gone.

She’s dressed casually in a textured sweater tucked into the waistband of jeans that hug the curve of her hips.

Shit, what hips.

I don’t remember a lot from that night, but there’s no forgetting her lush little ass.

I remember it in glorious detail, my knuckles turning white as I held on for dear life, railing her soul out from behind…

I shake my head until my brain rattles.

Bad idea, checking her out like this.

Idefinitelyshouldn’t wonder how much she’s changed under those clothes now that she’s had a kid, let alone whether she still has any fun that doesn’t involve trips to toy stores and G-rated movies.

Whether she still makes the same noises as she did that night.

And shit, I absolutely shouldnotwonder who the boy’s father is, and why the hell he isn’t in their life.

That’s not my concern. Not my problem. Not my business.

Even if the thought of some sperm donor ghosting them pisses me off royally.

There’s also a familiar stabbing in my gut.

Jealousy again, I realize, and I move back before it gets caught in my head.

Your one-night stand wasn’t as special to her as it was to you.

Get over italready.

“Come on,” I say. “We should get moving.”

Evelyn’s waiting in the library with tea, practically bouncing with excitement as we enter.

I’m almost glad to have Salem along, posing as my ‘assistant.’ It’ll make this feel more like a real meeting and set the tone I need to let her down easy.

Hopefully, she won’t be too disappointed.

“Hi, Evelyn,” I say, accepting her kiss on my cheek this time. “This is Salem Hopper, my assistant with our flagship property, The Cardinal. Hope you don’t mind her joining us today?”

“Not at all.” Evelyn pours us both some tea, orange with rosehips, judging by the smell. “Here you go, dearie. Goodness! It’s so nice to be here this time of year. It’s positively balmy compared to Minnesota.”

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