Page 68 of Crossed

“Tell me, Miss Paquette. When was your last confession?”

His head tilts, and I glare at him. He knows damn well when it was.

He doesn’t wait for a reply, moving his attention back to

Parker. “You’ll need baptism certificates.”

Parker nods. “Not a problem.”

My stomach tangles in knots. I’ve never been baptized. But I won’t say that right now, not to Cade. I’ll have Parker take care of it.

Blood presses beneath the surface of my skin, heating my cheeks.

“And as far as…everything else,” Parker continues, his thumb rubbing tight circles on my leg.

Cade zones in on the movement, the muscle in his jaw ticking. Slowly, his eyes move from where Parker’s touching me, up the length of my torso, blazing over my chest and settling on the hollow of my throat.

My heart bangs against my rib cage.

“I will not approve this marriage until I’m sure you’re both ready,” Cade says, his eyes locking with mine. “And yes, I’ll agree to the additional one-on- one sessions with yourfiancée.”

My brows shoot to my hairline. “The what?”

Amusement flashes in Cade’s irises, like he knows he has the upper hand. “For someone who claims to be Catholic, you seem to know nothing about the religion, Miss Paquette. Every couple takes a course so we can determine that you’rereadyfor the sanctity of marriage.”

“And who decides that?”

He smiles so wide, dimples dent his cheeks. “Me.”

My heart catapults into my stomach. “And the one-on- one courses?”

Parker clears his throat, side- eyeing me. “I’ve asked Father Cade to ensure you’re well versed and…appropriate.”

“Well versed and appropriate,” I repeat slowly.

Parker turns in his chair to face me. “That’s right. Don’t pretend your image is anything other thantrash.” He pauses. “Even Jason thinks it needs an overhaul.”

My jaw drops. I can read between the lines, and that’s the only reason I don’t put up more of a fight, despite the way my body shakes from the disrespect. His name-dropping my new defense attorney Jason means he wants me to seem a certain way in case I go to trial.

A woman who goes to church and is God- fearing is more endearing than one who’s called a witch and strips for cash.

Parker’s face hardens. “You need to trust me on this.”

His phone rings, and hefinallyremoves his grip from my thigh as he pulls it out and looks at the screen before slipping it back in his pocket.

But I see the name on the screen.

Florence.

“Excellent, so it’s settled,” Parker says, not bothering to look up at Cade or me. “I need to get back to work. You two can start right now.”

I suck in a breath.

He’s leaving me here?

Before the thought can even form fully, Parker’s gone, leaving a tense and silent quiet in his wake.

Neither of us speak, and I’m almost certain Father Cade can hear my heart beating against my chest, my anger resurfacing now that we’re alone. Slowly, I spin back around from where I was staring at the door and look at him.