Page 38 of Dirty Grovel

I raise my eyebrows, honestly stumped.

WhathaveI been up to? My days and nights have developed a familiar rhythm—meetings, paperwork, gym, and of course, there’s the odd midnight sail to either test equipment or get a much-needed break from land.

“I’m missing something.”

“Yes, you are,” she stammers. “A fucking heart!”

I roll my eyes. “I’ve never been a fan of riddles, woman,” I growl. “If you’ve got something to say to me, just come out and say it.”

“I saw you with another woman yesterday!”

It takes me a second to put together this woman she’s talking about with Andrea Carson, the woman who runs the IT company I work with regularly.

She moved to Nassau last year with her husband. Since then, she and I always get together for a business slash social meeting to catch up.

I have no idea how Sutton had gotten wind of my completely innocuous lunch with Andrea, but I’m in no hurry to make any reassurances.

I kinda like this shade of jealousy on her.

Really brings out the ice in her blue eyes.

Which means telling her that our lunch ended in actual dessert—and not the kind that involves champagne and a room in a five-star hotel—is off the table.

At least for now.

“You are such a fucking hypocrite!” she yells, stripping some of the fun out of this little Greek drama we’re bringing to life.

“How did you get there?”

“All you care about is appearances and your family’s perfect reputation and all the while, you’re stepping out on your pregnant fiancée!”

“And who put us in this position in the first place?” I remind her coldly. “If you weren’t fucking Drew Anton?—”

“Are you still beating that dead horse?” she explodes. “Or is believing that really easier than admitting that you were wrong?”

“Meaning what?”

“I have nothing to do with Drew anymore. I wasn’t working with him, I wasn’t sleeping with him, and I wasn’t trying to screw you over for him!”

“I saw the damn evidence, Sutton.”

“Evidence that was given to you by whom?” she asks. “Let me guess: your uncle? Or maybe your mother? She wasn’t exactly happy about our engagement, was she?”

I refuse to let her gaslight me. “If you really had nothing to hide, then why didn’t you tell me about Anton from the beginning? That fucking photoshoot was a ruse to get my attention. You probably took those damn pictures forhim.”

I’m almost certainly betraying my own jealousy here, but I can’t stop myself. “What about all those secret meetings you had with Anton while you and I were engaged? You wanna talk about hypocrisy? Let’s start there. And might I remind you that, as far as I’m concerned, you are not my fiancée. I owe you nothing, Sutton Palmer. Least of all an explanation.”

She stares at me, eyes blank, her mouth curled down at the corners. “I would have gladly given you my explanation—except you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Why would I believe a word that comes out of your mouth?”

“Because, believe it or not, it’s the truth. I never mentioned Drew because I was done with him, in every possible way. I was terrified of getting entangled in his web again. And yes, he did approach me once or twice, but it was never planned.”

“But you didn’t walk away.”

“If I had walked away from him, it would have been like walking away from my sister. He told me he’d keep an eye out for her. She wasn’t returning my texts or calls at the time. So yes, I chose to stay in contact with him as a lifeline for Sydney—which, in hindsight, I recognize was a mistake. On so many different levels. But I love my sister and I just… I wasn’t thinking straight at the time.”

I eye her warily. “And you didn’t tell me any of this because…?”

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