Filthy Secret

Jo could count the number of times she’d slept in over the past five years on one hand and have fingers to spare. So, of course, given the chance to hit snooze as many times as she’d like, her eyes flew open at six a. m., refusing to close long enough for her to drift back

off.

“Damn it,” she muttered after fifteen minutes of trying anyway. At least

now she could FaceTime with Mikayla before her morning got busy with script studying and reading up on this project.

Also, she could spend a good hour or two thinking of the fact that she had a date with Sawyer tonight. Sawyer, with his flirty smile that turned her into a great, big pile of hormones. Sawyer, who had made her feel far too good when he’d asked her about herself with genuine interest.

Sawyer, who made her want to throw all of her carefully crafted caution out the window so she could climb him like a fifteen-foot spruce, and okay, yeah. She needed a shower. The colder, the better.

An hour later, Jo was up, dressed, and no less hopelessly horny than she had been when she’d thrown off the covers. But a quick scroll through her phone fixed that right up. Derek might’ve been the love of her life once, but their relationship had started in a whirlwind and grown serious, fast. The surprise pregnancy five months into things had only made things more intense, and by the time Jo was showing, she’d been starting to see the signs that, while Derek seemed committed to their soon-to-be-born child, his commitment to her had dimmed. When she’d caught him cheating the first time, he’d sworn it was an error in judgment.

The second time? Jo realized she’d been the one to make an error in judgment. But Derek had never wavered as a parent, supporting Mikayla financially as well as being very involved in her day-to-day care. Despite the fact that it had taken Jo a long time to get over the sting of their relationship collapsing (there may or may not have been a period of time when Jo and Frankie referred to him exclusively as “Dickweasel Derek”), ultimately, it was for the best. Mikayla had two parents who loved her. Jo and Derek were raising her amicably and equally. Sure, Jo had shifted her priorities in order to focus on single parenting, and yes, that included both her career and her (lack of) sex life, but things could be a hell of a lot worse.

Jo tapped the icon beside Derek’s name, propping her phone up on the kitchen counter as she poured herself a ginormous cup of coffee.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Hey, Jo,” he said, his face appearing on her screen. “You’re up early.” “Sorry. I know mornings are hectic, but I just wanted to catch Mikayla

before you take her to school.”

Derek shook his head, as laid back as ever. “It’s all good. She’s having breakfast. Hang on and I’ll give her the phone.”

“Thanks.”

Mikayla’s face filled the screen a minute later, making Jo’s heart squeeze. “Hi, sweetheart. How’s it going with Daddy?”

“Good. We watched a movie last night with his new girlfriend. She wears sparkly lip gloss and giggles a lot, but she’s nice.”

That sounded on-brand for Derek. “I’m glad you had fun,” Jo said. “Did Mr. Callaghan like your Popsicle-stick tower?”

“Oh, yes,” Mikayla said, giving up a gap-toothed grin. “He said it was ‘impressive’.”

“It was pretty awesome,” Jo said. She’d only been semi-kidding about the possibility of still having glue in her hair. “Well, I just wanted to check in super quick and tell you that I love you. I’ll call again in a couple of days, okay? But you can ask Daddy to text me any time.”

“I know, Mommy.” Mikayla nodded at the screen. “Have fun getting ready for your audition.”

Jo’s heart considered exploding, but she kept herself in check and smiled as brightly as she could. “Thanks, butter bean. Love you.”

Ending the call, Jo grabbed her cup of coffee and decided to get to work. She’d no sooner gotten settled on the couch with her printed copy of the audition script though, when a knock sounded off on the door to the apartment.

Jo padded over, looking through the peephole cautiously. Frankie gave up a wave from the threshold, with Isabella standing beside her, and Jo unlocked the door to let them both in.

“Holy crap, you guys start early,” Jo said, but Frankie just laughed and held up a box with a pink and black logo reading Sweetie Pies.

“It’s never too early for sugar.”

“Or coffee,” Isabella added, moving to the breakfast bar, then passing a cardboard cup over to Jo. “Vanilla latte with oat milk and cinnamon, right?” “You brought me coffee?” Jo asked, although she took the cup, because

a) it smelled far more heavenly than what she’d just brewed, and b) it was her favorite, and she wasn’t stupid.

“I brought you ‘thank you’ coffee,” Isabella said. “Word is, you totally helped take care of Elijah last night after we had to run. When Frankie said she was heading over here to bring you breakfast, I invited myself to come, too. She told me what to order.”

Jo shook her head. “That’s nice of you, but really, it was nothing.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Frankie sing-songed, plucking a cruller from the box. “Apparently, you saved Sawyer’s bacon.”

“I didn’t do anything to Sawyer’s bacon,” Jo said, realizing a beat too late that it sounded vaguely dirty. “He just needed a little help finding the baby’s pacifier, is all.”

Frankie swapped a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it look with Isabella before turning back to the box on the breakfast bar. “Well, if that’s ‘thank you’ coffee, then these are apology pastries. Wait, is that a thing?”

“Yes,” Jo said. “I don’t know what you’re sorry for, but whatever it is, gimme.”

Frankie laughed and handed over a chocolate glazed donut. “I’m sorry I had to bolt like that on your first night in town. There was a bomb scare downtown, but it ended up being fine, mostly because Remington’s bomb squad is as good as the police force.”

“If we do say so ourselves,” Isabella chimed in with a grin.

“No one was hurt, and the suspect was apprehended and handed over to the FBI. I’m glad it all turned out okay, but I hate that we had to leave you by yourself,” Frankie said.