Page 94

She rolls her eyes.

Six months ago, Clara Bennett was worried about what this town thought when I put my hand on her thigh.

Now she leans across the circulation desk and kisses me.

Not nearly long enough.

But directly in front of Mrs. Patterson.

Progress.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Taking you somewhere.”

“I’m working.”

“Not anymore.”

“I have another hour.”

I look at the clock. “Forty-seven minutes.”

“Ryder.”

“Already cleared it with your boss.”

Her eyes narrow. “You went over my head?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

I pull a key from my pocket and put it on the desk.

Clara looks at it.

Then me.

“What’s this?”

“Key.”

“I know what a key is.”

“Good. Librarian education is paying off.”

She rolls her eyes at my ongoing joke and then picks it up. “Your house?”

“No.”

Something in her face falls.

Shit.

“Not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”