Sweet Liar (Dirty Sweet, #1)

Fortunately, Jeff Jones was smiling too. “It’s fine. I understand. I’m sure I’d play that game too if I were with a woman so…”

“Young?” Yes, I knew she was too young. He didn’t need to throw it in my face.

“I was going to say willing. But maybe her youth has something to do with it.” He peered over my shoulder, which made me have to glance behind me as well, insuring he wasn’t seeing anything he shouldn’t be seeing.

He wasn’t. Audrey was dressed now and was simply straightening the tie of her wrap.

That didn’t stop Jones from leering at her. “You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Locke.”

“Yes. I am,” I said sternly, subtly enforcing a claim on her that I didn’t have. His leer bothered me. A lot. I probably wouldn’t have responded so possessively otherwise.

His smile faded, and the man looked appropriately cowed. He opened his mouth and closed it twice, as though trying to discern the best way to react.

I put him out of his misery and nodded at the file in his hands. “Are those the papers for the lease? Can I sign them now?”

“Oh! Yes. You may.” He led me to the kitchen island where he spread out the contract in front of me. “Since we had you pre-approved before today, we’ve got all the finance and reference information that we need. You just need to initial the first two pages and put your John Hancock on the last, and I can hand over the keys right now.”

He handed me a pen from inside the breast pocket of his jacket.

“And the terms of the contract are…?”

He used the pen to point to the paragraph answering my question. “Six months or until the unit is sold. If you’re planning to purchase outright—”

“I am.”

“—then you’ll just want to make sure the sale goes through before the lease expires.”

“I’ll do that straight away.” I took the pen and signed where he’d indicated.

When I was finished, Audrey sidled up next to me and clutched onto my arm. “Is it ours now?” she asked coyly.

I narrowed my eyes in her direction but didn’t dispute the pretense that we were buying the flat together. It didn’t feel necessary to confuse the agent any further, and besides, I was quite comfortable with the man believing Audrey was unavailable.

“Not quite yet, my dear, but we do get to have the keys now.” I let the agent hand one to her so as not to destroy the latest ruse. I pocketed the duplicates. “Mr. Jones is going to put together an offer for us so we can buy the place outright.”

“Sweet!” she exclaimed gazing up at me, and her eyes twinkled so spectacularly that I couldn’t help imagining for a moment that we really were purchasing the place together. A pied-à-terre where I would teach her everything she wanted to know about her body and mine. As though she were a student, perhaps. The fantasy was “sweet.” Delicious, even.

Too delectable to keep thinking about for too long.

I cleared my throat, forcing the fancy to dissipate from my head. “Do you need anything else from us?”

We briefly discussed an amount to offer the seller and decided the agent would pull up a few comps and get back to me before we confirmed the final number. I shook hands with him, watched with ire as he kissed the back of Audrey’s hand, and then walked him to the door.

Once he was gone, I turned back to my companion and realized my mistake—I was again alone with Audrey. And this time there would be no one coming back to interrupt us.

Her expression said she’d realized the same thing. She didn’t seem quite as upset about it as I was, though.

I thought quickly. “I shouldn’t suggest this, but—”

“Yes. You should,” she encouraged, stalking slowly toward me.

“Perhaps you’d like to join me somewhere for lunch.”

Her face fell. “Oh. Then you aren’t going to help me out after all?”

Jesus, she was enchanting. Magnificently so. The pout of her mouth, the way her top lip formed a sharp V, the liquid almond of her eyes—it was impossible to deny her. I’d be a liar to say that I could.

“I’m not saying that. I just think this might be a task best suited for a different time. I’m picking up my son this afternoon, and I need to stop by the office to chat with Nate and Weston and Donovan about a few things while we’re all in the same place. Also, I have to bring my belongings from the hotel to the flat. Surely you have plans with Sabrina.”

She let out a loud sigh, not unlike the teenage sighs I heard often enough from Aaron. “We’re seeing a Broadway show tonight. I’m supposed to meet her at the office around four.”

“Good. That leaves us time for lunch.” I pulled her coat from the cupboard and helped her put it on. “We can work out an arrangement for the, er, the other thing from there.”

She linked her arm through mine and beamed up at me. “Sounds like a plan, professor.”

My trousers tightened at her newest title for me. Daddy? Professor? Did she know she’d hit the bullseye on my hot buttons?

If she didn’t, her naivety certainly added to her allure.

And if she did know, as I expected she did, I had to wonder—what exactly could she possibly learn from me?





“I knew it would happen one day, honestly. He’s a teenager now. He wants to spend his school breaks on skiing trips with his friends and playing marathon sessions of Fortnite, or whatever the game is he’s into at the moment. He doesn’t want to waste half of his holidays stuck in an aeroplane traveling to visit his boring old father.” I paused to take a swallow of my champagne. It was early for alcohol, but Audrey had said the finding of my apartment had warranted a celebration, and as I’d already discovered, it was impossible to deny her whims.

Which was also why I’d spent the last ten minutes waxing on about Aaron. What a boring subject for a young female companion. Nothing could bring out the old man in me like reminding me of my teenager. I knew better than to bring up the topic, but as soon as the waiter had taken our order, she’d asked.

And she was compelling, that one was. She didn’t have to ask twice.

To her credit, she’d remained engaged throughout my indulgent rant, asking questions, adding commentary. “He’s so young,” she said now—ironically, I thought. “This is just a phase of growing up. I remember feeling the same way at that age—not about my father. He died when I was thirteen. And then Sabrina left school to look after me, and I remember feeling so smothered. Like, I knew she’d sacrificed for me, and that should make me more appreciative, but I was a total pain in her behind. I resented her, for some reason. I didn’t want her around. I mean, I did, but I didn’t act like I did. I grew out of it—mostly. Aaron will too.”

She really was lovely. Giving me advice on my son, who I felt more and more out of touch with as the years went by, was not something I expected at all in exchange for my help with her situation.

No, my reward for that was simply being the man she’d chosen as her tutor.

“He will. I know he will,” I agreed. My stepdaughter had been the same way. At the time it had been hard to distinguish whether it was an age-related behavior or if it had been caused by my intrusion into her life. Amanda and I had gotten along well, but a new stepfather is always an adjustment.

I tapped my finger along the rim of the champagne glass. “Why do you think children resent the elders caring for them? Is there some secret club that requires that as an initiation into adulthood that I don’t remember?”