Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn - Chapter 30

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Married Before Midnight


Chapter 30: The Perfect Cover


Lucas Scott leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching Olivia hum to herself as she kneaded dough. The way her lips curved into a soft smile whenever Mason Lee’s name came up made his stomach twist. He’d seen that look before—on Eleanor’s face when she spoke of Henry. And that was the problem. He pushed off the counter and strode into the living room, where Hannah sat curled on the couch, flipping through a business textbook. Without preamble, he dropped onto the cushion beside her. "We need to talk." Hannah didn’t look up. "If this is about Mason, I already know." Lucas frowned. "You don’t trust him either?" Finally, she closed her book with a sigh. "Olivia’s too trusting. And that ‘heroic’ act of his was a little too convenient."


Relief washed over him. At least he wasn’t the only one who saw it. "We need proof." Hannah’s sharp eyes gleamed. "So we follow him." --- For days, they took turns tailing Mason. Lucas in the mornings, Hannah in the evenings. They watched him enter the Maplewood Grand Hotel, where he’d rented a suite. They noted his meetings with men in hard hats—construction contractors, just as he’d claimed. He visited blueprints offices, made calls about permits, even stopped by a local diner where the waitress greeted him by name. Hannah tapped her pen against her notebook one evening, frustration tightening her jaw. "Nothing. He’s clean." Lucas rubbed his temples. "Too clean."


But the evidence was undeniable. Mason Lee was exactly who he said he was—a successful contractor from out of town, here for business. No shady alleys, no secret debts, no hidden motives. Just a man who’d happened to be in the right place at the right time to help Olivia. --- Olivia’s laughter floated from the bakery’s front counter as Mason leaned against it, grinning. "You’re telling me you’ve never tried cinnamon in your hot chocolate?" She wrinkled her nose. "That’s blasphemy." "Or genius," he countered, nudging the cup toward her. "Try it." Lucas watched from the kitchen doorway, arms folded. He wanted to hate the guy. Wanted to find a flaw, a crack in the polished facade.


But Mason was… charming. Not in a smarmy way, but in the easy, effortless manner of someone who genuinely enjoyed people. Hannah sidled up beside him, voice low. "We’re wrong, Lucas. He’s not playing her." Lucas exhaled. "Maybe." But the doubt lingered. Because if Mason wasn’t a liar, then Olivia’s growing feelings were real. And that terrified him more than any scheme ever could.