Page 104 of Double Bucked

“That’s how many times I lied to you.”

“You kept count?”

“I was raised in a Catholic orphanage. We were trained to keep score of our sins.”

Her gaze measures me. My skin tingles as though her stare were a physical touch.

“I’m a bitch,” she states. “But I’m not an unreasonable bitch. You were a man doing a job, and you performed it admirably.”

Her tone is cool, but there is no hint of sarcasm in her voice.

So I give an inch. “I lied to you. I manipulated you. And I betrayed your trust. And I’d do it again to keep you safe.”

The clock on the fireplace mantle ticks in the silence between us.

Why does Mr. Preacher fill his house with the loudest clocks?

“I don’t fault you for doing your job,” Claire says plainly. “But moving forward, I’ll require complete honesty. No more lies. Even if you think it’s for my own good. I’ve had enough men in my life who lie to me, and I won’t tolerate one more. Is that clear?”

Claire is setting boundaries. Making rules. Laying down the foundation for a future between us.

There’s a future between us.

My blood goes hot at the prospect of it. “Yes. Crystal.”

“Good. Because there is one thing I was curious about.”

“Alright.”

“How far were you planning to go?”

My tongue recoils from the truth, so Claire continues.

“I mean, eventually, the lies were going to catch up with you, weren’t they?” Ever so slightly, her head cocks. My pulse beats along the side of my neck. “We were engaged to get married. What happens on the wedding day? When you go to sign the papers…does James Calloway appear out of thin air? Do you forge a marriage license?”

“Possibly. I hadn’t worked out the details.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She taps her finger against the table. “One thousand, five hundred, and thirty-nine.”

She’s not wrong. Fuck.

I’ve spent the last year and a half lying to her, and yet still, she knows me too well.

“The plan was to change my name. Legally.”

Her eyes narrow. “All that…to protect your cover? Eventually, the job was going to end. And then you’ve got a new name and a very legally binding contract to your target.”

“It’s just a name.”

Those perfect, pouty lips purse together. I want to kiss them. I refrain. She looks away for a moment, debating her words, and then her eyes return to mine. “You’re a lot of things. But you’ve never been stupid. I need you to be honest with me. Complete, ugly honesty. Where did the job end and the fantasy begin?”

Truths slither like pythons in my throat, entwining and tightening until I can hardly breathe. I turn away from her piercing gray eyes.

Outside, night’s fallen. The moon is three-quarters full. It’s too bright. It blinds the stars.

“July twenty-fourth,” I recite, “Dear diary. I slept in the barn last night. Daddy found out I’ve been going to the river to see Ransom. He told me he’d teach me a lesson. I was certain he was going to put Calypso down. I stayed in the stable with her all night. I fell asleep on her body, listening to the sound of her breathing. I’ll sleep here again tonight if I have to. I’ll sleep here every night. There are worse fates than straw in your hair. Maybe that’s how scarecrows are made. Scarecrow? ScareClaire.”

When I look back at Claire, she’s wearing a soft, confused expression. “You…memorized my diary?”

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