Her Obsession (by Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 153

The Secret Project.

The morning starts earlier than I’d planned. I don’t even remember setting an alarm, but Ma’s already up clattering around in the kitchen like a one–woman army. The smell of coffee and baked bread drifts through the house, and I know there’s no point pretending I can sleep through it. I swing my legs out of bed, scrub a hand over my face, and stretch the stiffness from my shoulders. For once, there’s no threat waiting on the horizon, just the monumental task of keeping a secret from the most perceptive woman I’ve ever met. When I step into the hallway, Ma’s already issuing orders like a general.

“Connor, we’ll need more butter for the pies. And flour, Lord help me if I run out. Your Pa’s gone to the shed to dig out those old fairy lights, and I told Liam to make himself useful and start on the tables out back.”

I blink, still half–asleep. “Morning to you too, Ma.”

She waves me off, apron already dusted with flour. “No time for morning. We’ve got a wedding to pull off before sunset.”

Pa’s voice floats in from the porch. “You mean Connor’s got a wedding to pull off.”

Ma ignores him completely. “Did you get the license papers sorted?”

“They’re in my bag,” I say, fighting back a yawn.

“Good. Now, go wake the boys. We need muscle if those lights are going up before noon.”

I chuckle quietly. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

She gives me a grin that’s all teeth and mischief. “Darling, you only get one chance to do it right. Besides, this is fun.”

By the time guys stumble out into the yard, Ma’s already got them working. Fairy lights, folding tables, decorations that are supposed to be “simple” but somehow multiply every time I blink.

Pa’s setting up old wooden barrels to use as makeshift tables, and organising a delivery for extra chairs, and Naomi’s been put in charge of the cake, which means we’ll be lucky if half of it makes it to the ceremony uneaten. I’m halfway through checking on the generator when I hear small footsteps padding across the porch.

“Con?”

I turn, and there’s Diego, standing in the doorway, hair sticking up in every direction, dinosaur clutched in one hand. He squints against the morning light. “Why’s everyone awake? Did I sleep too long?”

I crouch down in front of him. “Nah, buddy. We’re just up early because we’ve got something special to do today.”

He blinks, curiosity instantly wide awake. “What is it?”

I glance over my shoulder to make sure Ma’s not about to swoop in and ruin the surprise. Then I lean in close and lower my voice like I’m

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The Secret Project.

telling him state secrets. “We’re planning a big surprise for Sissy.”

His eyes go wide. “A surprise? Like a party?”

“Something like that,” I say, smiling. “But it’s a secret, alright? We can’t let her find out until it’s ready.”

He gasps. “A secret mission!”

“That’s right. And you’re my second–in–command. Think you can handle it?”

He nods furiously, clutching his dinosaur tighter. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good man.” I ruffle his hair. “Now go find Ma. She’ll give you an important job.”

He salutes–actually salutes–and takes off running, his tiny footsteps thudding across the floorboards.

From behind me, Pa chuckles. “You just doomed us all. Kid’s got the subtlety of a marching band.”

“Yeah,” I admit, grinning. “But he’s got heart.”

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For a few hours, everything runs in a strange kind of rhythm. The yard fills with quiet laughter and whispered instructions; everyone

moves with a purpose, but tries not to draw too much attention.

Liam is hanging lights from the oak tree, swearing the whole time. Naomi is setting flowers along the porch railing, humming under her

breath. Diego’s helping Ma “test the pies” with exaggerated seriousness. It’s chaos, but it’s good chaos. Pa’s already called the guys back

at the house; they’ll be flying in around midafternoon. By sunset, everyone who’s ever meant something to us will be here.

By late morning, Sage starts to stir. I’m inside when I hear her footsteps in the hallway, slow, measured, the kind that makes my pulse

jump even when I’ve got nothing to hide. I duck my head around the corner just in time to see her standing in the kitchen doorway. She’s

barefoot, hair still tousled from sleep, wearing one of my shirts that nearly swallows her whole. And even half–awake, her eyes miss

nothing.

“What’s all this?” she asks, her voice still soft with sleep.

Ma’s so startled she nearly drops the mixing bowl. “Oh! Morning, darling. Just making breakfast.”

Sage glances out the window where Liam is yelling at a tangle of fairy lights and raises a brow.

Naomi swoops in, casual as anything. “Don’t mind him. Connor thought the place could use a little sparkle.”

Sage turns that gaze on me, the kind that makes me feel like I’m standing under a spotlight. “A little sparkle?”

I lift my hands. “Ma’s idea.”

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The Secret Project.

Ma huffs. “It’s spring cleaning, that’s all. Men never notice when things need fixing up.”

Sage’s mouth quirks. “Uh–huh.”

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She doesn’t believe a word of it, I can tell. But instead of pushing, she crosses her arms and leans against the counter, studying everyone with that quiet amusement that always means she’s playing along, for now.

As the day drags on, the secret gets harder to keep. Every time Sage walks by, someone freezes mid–task. Naomi suddenly starts talking about completely unrelated topics. Liam pretends he’s fixing a fence. Diego, bless him, keeps forgetting the rules.

At one point, I catch him running up to Sage with a mouth full of pie. “Sissy, Ma says the surprise-”

I swoop in before the words finish. “Buddy!” I cut in loudly. “Come help me with the generator, yeah?”

Sage raises a brow, lips twitching. “The generator?”

“Yep,” I say, guiding Diego toward the door. “Very important job.”

“Uh–huh.”

I can feel her smirking behind me as we escape.

When we’re outside, Diego looks up, guilt written all over his face. “I almost told her, didn’t I?”

“Almost,” I say, trying not to laugh. “But you caught yourself just in time. That’s what good secret agents do.”

He beams with pride, and I ruffle his hair again. “We’re gonna pull this off, buddy. Just keep her distracted a little longer.”

By the time the sun starts to dip, everything’s nearly ready. The tables are set, the lights are strung, the air smells like pie and roasted

herbs. The whole place looks like something out of a dream–soft gold light spilling through the trees, flowers catching the breeze,

laughter echoing from the porch. Sage still doesn’t know. She’s suspicious, sure, but not enough to piece it all together. And watching her

move through the house, that sharp mind just on the edge of discovery, might be the most nerve–racking thing I’ve ever done.

Pa catches my eye across the yard and grins. “She’s gonna love it.”

“Yeah,” I say quietly, watching her through the window. “I know she will.”

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