Page 17

T eri is smart. So smart. I don’t just mean booksmart or college smart. I mean that she summed up everything that’s been circling in my heart in the space of one conversation.

One—I don’t have a bad track record in relationships. I have no record. I thought of that as a failure, but Therese thinks of it as discerning. Like having a clean slate.

She thinks I’m boyfriend material—which is a bit backwards since I’m pretending to be husband material, but that’s fake.

Her words were real. Her hand in mine? That’s real too.

The little house we’re now arriving at, with its overgrown neighboring lawns and the sun hitting the headstones in a lazy way. .. It could all be real.

If she stays in one place. If I could convince her to let me protect her permanently.

To be with me—permanently. It wouldn’t matter where; the mission would remain the same. Keep her safe.

Love her.

Instead of longing for sleep, I feel like I’m waking up.

I let go of Teri’s hand to turn into our short driveway and pull into the square garage that attaches to one end of the house. My eyes check every shadow. I didn’t see anyone tailing us at the store. Nothing around the perimeter has been disturbed.

That makes me twitchy. Are our precautions working that well, or are they simply too good for me to detect? Could they have genuinely bought our fake, clumsy wedding? I suppose a rebound quickie marriage for a gorgeous, disillusioned ex is believable.

“Come on. Let’s get in the house,” I grunt and grab the groceries.

“Is something wrong?” Teri jumps out of the car, her voice instantly high and breathless with fear.

“No. I don’t see anything wrong.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yes, but... Well, sometimes if you don’t see anything wrong, you still have to look for trouble. Come on, your chocolate will be a puddle if we don't pop it in the fridge.”

MY COMMENTS MADE THERESE twitchy, which I regret, especially after the peaceful moments we shared on the drive home, holding hands in contented silence.

The rest of the day passes with us moving about each other, but not with each other, until it’s time to make dinner. Teri is in the kitchen, muttering her way through the contents of the cabinets, pulling out pots and looking for utensils.

“I should take you out to a nice restaurant. That’s what people do on their honeymoons. They don’t cook.”

“Yeah, well, they’re too busy doing other things. I have time,” she snaps, jerking a meat fork out of the drawer. “Steak? I can cook, in case you were worried.”

“Hey, I’m sure you can cook. I just... Well. I would still like to take you out to a nice dinner.”

Teri stills in front of the cast iron pan she sets on the stove. “I think Matteo thought romance was all about the public stuff. ‘Look at the jewels my wife has. Look at the dress I brought her. Look at the concerts we attended and the fancy restaurants we dined at.’ I loved it, too.”

I know she’s not done. Teri sniffs in loudly and hurries to cover the steak with salt and pepper, muttering something about this place needing a spice rack.

My hands are gentle on her shoulders. I shouldn’t touch. If I touch, I won’t want to stop.

Therese relaxes under my palms at once. I rub in small circles, moving closer.

When her back hits my chest, my arms wrap lower, holding tightly around her waist, my lips just above her hair.

“What is it? What else?” I murmur, eyes closed so I can focus on the scent of her skin, the warmth and softness of her.

“It was all public because it was a cover. And it was all sex because that was convenient. Why not fuck the stupid farm girl you dolled up and paraded around?”

Anger at Delgado for what he’s done to Therese far outstrips my anger at what he did to some other lowlife who probably deserved to be stabbed. “You’re not a dumb farm girl.”

“My dad sells tractors! That’s close enough,” Therese half-sobs. Her shoulders are shaking against me, tears and hysterical laughter overtaking her. “I’m so sorry. Sorry I was too dumb to slow down, to question him, to wonder why he wanted me instead of anyone else. Matteo could have had his pick.”

I’m surprised that a witness under this kind of stress has held it together for so long.

I push Therese’s hands into the sink and scrub off the meat juices before turning her to me and folding her into my arms. “He didn’t want anyone else because you were.

.. You are something special , Therese LaFontaine. ”

“Therese Gray,” she corrects, wiping her eyes.

“I could tell you all the reasons a man would want you to be his wife, but deep down, you know them. You’re angry, rightfully angry, that Delgado exploited your gifts and set you up as his cover, parading you around as a honeymoon couple on an extended trip so no one would look too hard at his comings and goings.

” I stop there before I can say (or worse, demonstrate) that I’d like to prove I want something beyond flashy appearances.

That I want to romance Therese in private, intimate ways that mean something.

That I’ll restore her faith in sex and intimacy as an expression of love between two people.

But I probably wouldn’t. I don’t know how. Oh, I know the mechanics of the act, but I’d be a clumsy failure in practice.

Wouldn’t I?

“You’re so good to me, Reggie. So far beyond duty.” Teri looks up at me with trust and appreciation in her eyes. “You say all the right things.”

I knead her shoulders, and she closes her eyes, breathing up against me, daring me to kiss her lips once more.

“You do all the right things,” she whispers, lips framing each word.

Suddenly, I feel like I have an abundance of beginner’s luck. Teri brings me luck.

You can’t do this, my internal watchdog warns. She’s vulnerable right now. She’s crying about how a man used her for sex—amongst other things. You can’t offer her sex. That’s curing the problem with the problem. Right?

Therese doesn’t seem to think so. She rests her head on my chest with a weary sigh. “This isn’t in your job description.”

“My job description binds me to your family forever. I have longed to be a friend and ally. I could only dream of being something more,” I rasp.

“Then... then what I want probably isn’t fair. Maybe you feel like you have to say yes, because of some ancient, sacred pact,” Teri whispers, leaning her cheek to my chest.

“For you—I feel as though I would break any pact, but because of who you are, I don’t have to.

Forever faithful to you... Forever protecting you.

..” I rock her side to side, as I have rocked many a crying child, but this time my heart isn’t heavy with grief.

My mind skips ahead to an improbable future where Reggie and Therese Gray have their own little place in some little town, it doesn’t have to be this one, and we hold each other just like this.

Kids’ toys, laundry, and dishes clutter up the background of my imagination.

Some men would flinch. I feel whatever passes for blood start racing in my cold veins.

“It’ll be okay,” I mutter, half to her, half to myself.

“Hm? What?”

“Wh-whatever you want me to do would be okay. It wouldn’t break a pact. Even if it did, I wouldn’t care. Have you heard the verse, ‘whatever isn’t of faith is sin’?”

“Maybe?”

“With you, nothing could ever be wrong. Not for me. Of course,” I pull myself out of the warm haze of hugging her, of feeling her press more deeply into my chest and snuggle in my arms, “of course, you haven't said what you want.” I cough. “I might be making assumptions. I’m not good at this.”

“Not good at it, or haven’t tried?” Therese looks up at me with one eyebrow cocked, challenging me in a friendly way.

“Both?” I don’t know for sure what she’s hinting at. I can hope, but...

“You don’t know that you can’t do it unless you try to do it first. You should know that, with all the crazy things you’ve said you’ve done.”

I like the spitfire that comes back into her voice and her eyes when she argues with me, even in her gentle, teasing way. I counter, “Maybe what I want to do isn’t something I can try.”

“Such as?”

You. Being with you. Making love with you.

“Is it private? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.” She begins to wriggle away, and it feels like my soul is tearing.

My arm locks around her waist. “Being in a real relationship, not something fake. Something that lasts longer than a two-day charade. Something special. Something physical. But not like Delgado’s version of physical. Something real,” I whisper. If she can be scared, so can I.

“Ah. Real.” Therese’s eyes slide away. “This is a sham. A sham with an expiration date—and two weeks is the extreme end.” She turns back to the stove, putting butter in the pan. “Should have gotten olive oil.”

That’s not what I meant. I drop my hands back to my sides, tempted to walk away.

We do not run. We are a wall, a protection for our people. An ancient command holds me in place, and I feel energy soar through me, peace in its wake. This isn’t a mistake—and I don’t back away from fights.

REGGIE STANDS BEHIND me, not touching me any longer. I want his touch. At the same time, it’s not fair to tell him I could be what he wants—that real, permanent, physical lover—and then leave him in the dust.

“This could be real. If you want it to be,” Reggie's voice is soft as he hovers. “Maybe they call you tomorrow, maybe they call you next week, or next year. No one said I have to leave.”

“But it’s— I mean, I can’t pay for a bodyguard for that long.” How am I ever going to pay him back for what he’s already done?

“Not a bodyguard. A boyfriend. Husband, according to some.”

My mind is blown. Why would he do that? Am I a project for him? Something to cross off his list? The thing that makes him more “human” than clay?

Do you care?

“I—”