Dirty Secret (The Burke Brothers #1)(52)
Author: Emma Hart

There’s nothing wrong with putting a bit of OPI on your toes while watching Ocean’s Eleven on a Friday night. But paying someone else to paint my nails? Come on.

“This is utterly ridiculous.” I stand up from the chair with my newly cut, blow-dried, salon-soft hair and run my fingers through it.

“Mhmm.” Leila looks at me. “Looks like you’re hating it.”

I sigh and drop my hand. “Can we go now?”

“No. Conner told me I have to keep you here until . . .” She glances at the clock. “Three o’clock. So another two hours.”

I grunt and sit in the pedicure chair next to her. After another awkward night sharing a bed and waking up in his arms, I decided this morning that I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.

Alone.

“And why am I being kicked out of my own house?”

Lei shrugs. “I don’t know, Sof. He just said to keep you away until three, and since he’s paying, I’m all for it.”

“Did you even try to find out?”

“I did. He started ignoring me after, like, the tenth time I asked. I think he was ready to take Aidan’s drumstick and beat me senseless with it.” She leans back in the chair.

I grunt quietly. Unless it’s getting the media off both our front lawns, I can’t imagine any surprise I’d actually like.

Kind of like the time he decided we’d go paragliding.

Yeah, no. He went paragliding. I sat and watched. I’m not getting that high up in the sky unless I’m in a damn plane.

I sigh and try to relax. Easier said than done, though. There are so many questions swirling around. Why is he doing this? Why is he making me go to the beach concert on Saturday? When is Mila finally going to be able to go back out in public? When will our faces stop gracing front covers?

When will life return to a semblance of normal?

When will the two of us sort out our crap and decide if we’re working toward a relationship or not?

I pinch the bridge of my nose. So much for relaxing. Next time he wants me away from him, he can send me for a freakin’ massage.

Having people poke at my feet grosses me out.

I take my phone from the pocket of my shorts and text him. Why can’t I come home?

His reply is quick. Because.

That isn’t a reason.

It’s a reason without an explanation.

Uh, no. A reason would be telling me why, and an explanation would be telling me why the reason is the reason.

. . . I think you just gave me a migraine, princess.

One day, I’m gonna get a tiara and shove it up your ass.

Why would you even consider that?

Because the pain level would be on par with your surprises.

HAHAHA! I promise this is a good surprise.

You said that about the paragliding.

Evidently we have different ideas of good.

My lips twist to one side. You’re not helping your case.

Chill out.

Chill out. Chill out. He can chill out when I come at him with that tiara.

Seriously. What could he possibly be doing that involves me being out of my house for, like, five hours?

I huff and point to a teal nail polish when the woman doing my toes asks. I watch as she paints them perfectly, then I watch as they dry.

“Do you two know what you’re doing yet?”

I look at Leila. “Huh?”

“You and Conner. You’ve slept together the last two nights.”

“Shut up,” I hiss under my breath. “I’m not talking about this here.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Nails next?”

“No. I’m done now. I’m going home. I don’t care what he says. He can’t stop me getting in my own house!”

I pull the toe separators from between my toes and wriggle them. Then I grab my flip-flops and slide my feet into them, making sure not to smudge the paint.

Then I’d just be annoyed.

“Come on,” I tell Leila.

“Oh boy,” she mumbles, putting her own sandals on quickly. “This is going to be fun.”

I wait by the side of her car, tapping my foot, and ignore the click of a shutter from across the parking lot. Oh yes, I can see it now. Tomorrow’s headline:

CONNER’S BABY MAMA OUT WITH HIS SISTER. RECONCILIATION IN THE CARDS?

Asses.

Leila unlocks the car and we both climb in. Luckily the salon is only a few minutes from my house, so the journey is quick and relatively uneventful. If you don’t count the photographer following us, and in all honesty, I don’t.

Two of the boys’ security are blocking our entrance to the driveway. I reach over and beep Leila’s horn, but they simply shake their heads.

“The hell?” I get out of the car and slam the door. “You’re tellin’ me ‘no’ to my own house?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the one on the right—what’s his name? Ajax?—says. “Conner said three p.m., and its two ten.”

“Last I checked, Conner didn’t have a say about when I can get on my property. You hear that? My. Property.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Just followin’ orders.”

A few of the reporters are moving closer to record our conversation. I can see the damn recorders in their hands.

“I don’t give a flying monkey’s crap for Conner’s orders. I’m sayin’ this is my house and I’m goin’ in!”

Leila gets out next to me. “C’mon, Ajax, don’t be a dick. It’s her house!”

“Sorry, girls,” he says again. “I’d like to keep my job.”

“Great.” I mutter, leaning back against the car. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.” I climb onto the hood of the car and lean back, resting my hands behind me and crossing my feet at my ankles.

Leila blinks at me for a minute before shrugging and climbing up next to me. “What the hell,” she says. “If it’ll piss Conner off, I’m all for it.”

I could swear Ajax’s lips twitch, but he hides it impeccably. The guy next to him hasn’t said a word, and I click my tongue.

“I haven’t seen you before. What’s your name?”

His dark eyes shoot to me. “My name, ma’am?”

“Yes. Your name.” I nod. “And please don’t call me ma’am. I’m not old enough to be a ma’am.”

“It’s Carlos, miss.”

Miss. Damn Southern manners. “Sofie.” I smile. “My name is Sofie.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sofie.”