Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Stepping out into the sanctuary, I did a quick scan of the pews to make sure there was no one else here for reconciliation. The sight of long platinum-blonde hair that hung in perfect waves, curling slightly at the ends, caused me to stop walking. I didn’t recognize that hair, and I knew for certain if I’d seen it before, I wouldn’t have overlooked it. The woman’s back was to me as she stood in front of the votive stand. I could only see three candles lit with her body blocking the others. Her tanned shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh.
It was the first time in a while that I’d had to work hard at not letting my gaze fall any further down a female body. What was visible without actually looking at her lower half was, there was a lot of leg. Bare legs. It was almost mid-April, and the temperature had warmed up. Still, I wasn’t accustomed to seeing that much skin inside these walls.
Then, she turned, and I realized this was my punishment for looking at my phone to see what time the first round of the NFL drafts came on tonight while Martha had confessed of being jealous of Agnes Glenn’s new set of cookware her husband had bought her.
The Lord had been unfair when he created a female like this one. Eyes so blue that they stood out all the way across the room. Shiny pink gloss over a mouth that was going to have me turning around and going back into the confessional. And as hard as I tried, it was impossible not to see the size of her boobs in that shirt that didn’t cover up much.
Clearing my throat—because I was sure I would sound strangled if I spoke without doing it since my mouth had gone dry at the sight of her—I managed to smile.
“Hello,” I said, luckily my legs remembered how to move. “Can I help you with something?”
I might not be slowly scanning her body, but she had no issue giving me a complete once-over. The corners of her mouth lifted, and a dimple appeared. As if this girl needed anything else to add to her appearance. When her eyes finally made it to my face again, I could see amusement dancing in them.
“You’re the priest?” she asked as if she was going to laugh.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had a woman react this way. When I had been in seminary, there were always those who would take it as a challenge to get me to sin. None of them knew my past—because if they had, then they wouldn’t have wasted their time. The females from back home in Fort Worth had been there for it and watched it all play out. They knew how unavailable I was, even before my vow of celibacy. Relationships and romance in my life had been buried eleven years ago, along with the only girl I would ever love.
“I am,” I replied.
She lifted a hand and tucked some of her Beach Barbie hair behind her ear. “Figures. This was a stupid idea,” she said, then glanced back at the candles. “I lit one anyway. Not sure if I did it right or whatever.”
I stood there as she started to walk back toward the exit, and considering my reaction to her, it was best that she left.
Get away from me, Satan.
But she’d lit a candle. She’d come in here for a reason. And it was my job—my calling—to help her.
“Wait.” The word came out, and I inwardly winced.
This is a bad idea, Jude. She needs to go find another priest to help her. One who is old enough not to care that she looks like one of those girls dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly.
I’d only been there once, but it was memorable.
When she stopped and looked back at me, her hair floated slightly off her back with the motion. “Yeah?” The sultry tone to her voice was natural.
God, seriously? One thing. You could have given her at least one flaw. A big one. Something to even out all the others you blessed her with.
“Why did you light a candle?” I asked, taking a few more strides in her direction.
She lifted one of her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I even understand what it is for.”
Okay, so she wasn’t Catholic.
“If you aren’t Catholic, what brought you here?”
I was probing. She had me curious, and, yes, I wanted to help her.
She shook her head and let out a short, breathy laugh, but it held no humor. It masked pain. She was hurting and covering it up well. Or I’d missed it because I was so focused on her extraordinary face.
“I think I lit it for me,” she said. “I don’t know anymore.”