Page 13 of Dirty Secret Love

“I can close this deal easily without losing our arrangement with CQS, but I need your help,” I state, hoping he’ll make sure I can get what’s needed.

“If you fuck this up, I swear I’ll chop up your body and feed you to the mountain lions myself,” he threatens, and all I can do is grin.

He might not be happy about this, but he’s willing to help me. Lying to get what I want is easy. If there’s anything I learned from my father, it’s to maneuver within the narrow lines of the truth without ever crossing to the wrong side. It’s all about owning the narrative, controlling it, and bending it, so it’s just what everyone needs to hear.

This will be almost as easy as a merger.

ChapterSix

Sutton

My workdayusually ends at six o’clock, though it’s not like I adhere to a strict schedule. I set my own hours. Some folks have voiced their annoyance about me closing early or not opening early enough, but they forget there’s only one person running this entire library—me.

As I mentioned to the mayor just the other day, if she expects different hours, she needs to hire additional hands. One person clocking sixty hours a week isn’t sustainable. Fortunately, my boss understands that my role extends beyond merely shelving books.

It baffles me how my mother can’t grasp the nuances of my job. No wonder she has such little respect for what I do.

I doubt she’ll ever understand why I chose this career or my life. I like many things about working in a library, including the peace and quiet it offers. It gives me a space to work on my other projects. The ones I have to hide from her. I wonder what Mom will think if she found out what I do on the side. She’ll probably send me to church or . . . what would she do? Never speak to me again? I also cherish the moments when I can immerse myself in work, all while ensuring others find their perfect reads or introducing them to new titles I believe they’d love.

Today, my concentration seems to be in short supply. My mother’s biting remarks still resonate in my mind, and then there’s the matter of River. The thought of him moving in with me? It’s daunting. But do I have an alternative or a choice in the matter?

The whole arrangement with him is already making me anxious. Perhaps choosing him—of all the brothers—was a mistake. But with my current situation, I’m short on options. It’s either him or inviting more chaos into my life.

If my mother deems him unstable, our little act is doomed from the start. However, his supposed “insanity” could be my perfect exit strategy. I could say something like “Well, obviously, I can’t marry a man like him.” But then it’ll be back to: Sutton can’t do anything right. This is definitely a lose-lose situation.

And in the middle of all this, there’s his promise of a ten-carat ring. I don’t think he can afford any ring from Cartier. But then again, I’m starting to realize that I barely know much about the WITSEC program CQS runs, I know the people they help only get a small weekly allowance. Is he wealthy? Probably. Only rich people can afford the private program.

None of that matters. For now, my priority is to maintain the pretense that my fiancé is financially comfortable, just to keep my mother’s incessant critiques at bay.

Why didn’t I have a more typical, less demanding mother? She has an uncanny ability to set the bar impossibly high. To keep her off my back, I have to be creative and make up stories that usually keep her away—I’m good at it, but this is already getting out of hand.

Can I pull off this fake relationship?

I debate between heading straight home or maybe hitting the bar with Jez. Though if I choose the latter, I won’t be drinking tonight. I’ve committed to a week of sobriety. After that, I’ll either concoct a plan to feign my own demise or drown my sorrows until my family packs up and leaves.

Following my routine, I set the alarm, secure the back door, and step outside. I take only a few strides and nearly bump into River, his lips pulled into a heart-melting grin.

I let my gaze travel over him from head to toe and internally nod in satisfaction. I must admit, when it comes to looks, I hit the jackpot with River Kershaw. Yep, he’s undeniably handsome—a definite upgrade from Sailor’s fiancé. He just doesn’t have the perfect job or wealth that would placate my mom. That’s what’s going to make things a little harder for me. Convincing Mom that it’s okay to marry a guy who’s just helping his uncle working at a ranch is a little far-fetched, isn’t it?

Shaking the shallow thought away, I remind myself that if this was real, I wouldn’t care if he didn’t have a penny to his name. For me, it’s the intangible qualities—kindness, loyalty, and I’ll even include River’s infectious laughter—that would matter.

River raises an eyebrow playfully, reading my contemplative expression. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I answer when instead I want to ‘say, fuck no.’ My panicked brain is already brainstorming escape routes. I mean, how hard is it to join a witness protection program just to dodge my overbearing, demanding, and meddling parents? Too extreme? Probably. But tempting.

His gaze intensifies, seeing right through me. “You don’t seem sure.”

“I’m fine,” I snap, a little too defensively.

A slow, lopsided smile forms on his face. He reaches out, fingers ghosting over my cheek, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “Rule number one: we don’t lie to each other, darling.”

A blush creeps onto my cheeks. “I hate that you call me darling,” I protest, though the nickname is starting to grow on me. Coming from him, it sounds playful, even loving.

Pulling me close, he kisses the tip of my nose, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “See, I think that’s you lying again.”

Pulling away, I roll my eyes, even though my sneaky heart’s pounding like it’s at a surprise rave. “You don’t know me,” I say, messing with my hair in that ‘oh-so-casual’ way I’ve never quite mastered.

He leans in, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Which is exactly why I’m here,” he counters, his voice dripping with amusement. “It’s a little naïve of you to think that two complete strangers can pull off the ‘happy couple’ charade, don’t you think? We need a backstory about us.”

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