Page 78 of Lady and the Hitman
“No one.”
Her eyes dropped to the SUV, the shadow of a figure still visible inside.
“Is ‘no one’ going to walk you to the door?” she asked, voice rising ever so slightly.
“He was just giving me a ride,” I said quickly, too quickly. “It’s not?—”
Before I could stop her, she stepped around me.
No. No, no, no.
“Mom—”
But she was already at the curb, peering through the tinted window like she owned the place. And because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, Ronan—my dark, devastating secret—chose that exact moment to get out of the car.
Slowly.
Like he’d been preparing for battle.
The door clicked shut behind him and he walked up to her with the same lethal calm he used when threatening drivers who dared glance my way.
“Hi,” he said evenly. “I’m Ronan.”
My mother froze. Took him in slowly. Then turned to me with a look that was part confusion, part concern, part ... curiosity.
“Well,” she said. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. My tongue felt like it had turned to sandpaper.
She gave Ronan another once-over, her brow lifting slightly. “Not your usual type.”
I cleared my throat. “He’s just?—”
“A friend?” she offered, tone dry.
I nodded. Too fast.
Ronan didn’t flinch. Just stepped forward, calm and confident like nothing about this situation was awkward for him.
She looked between us. Her gaze softened. “He’s very handsome. Tall, too.”
“Mother.”
“I’m just saying.”
Ronan extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
She shook it, looking impressed despite herself. “Hope Hughes. Zara’s mom. My husband, Greg, and I run a nursery on John’s Island. Maybe you’ve seen it.”
“I have,” Ronan said smoothly. “Beautiful property.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You live around here?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “I do.”
I could’ve strangled him.
My mom glanced back at me. “Well. I was going to invite you to come by tomorrow, but maybe you’re busy.”
