Page 59 of Hunt for You

I nodded and swallowed hard. “Thanks, I… Richard emailed me just… just days ago. We were supposed to meet and talk and… I’m just… he was just a really sweet man.”

The only man I’d known when I was young who was really sweet without an ulterior motive.

“Yes, that’s what I keep hearing. A very loving, very kind man. They don’t make them like that anymore.”

I nodded again. To my surprise, my eyes blurred and my throat pinched. My hands started to shake and my breath got short. And not in the fun way.

“I have to go,” I said abruptly, standing up like I’d been launched out of the pew. Sam shot to his feet too, hands up to catch me like I might fall.

“You don’t have to go—”

“Yes, I do,” I breathed, turning my shoulders to push past him.

Sam’s arm shot out to catch me around the middle, which made my eyes widen. But then he yanked his hands up and took a step back, shaking his head.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s reflex. I usually serve in a prison ministry and we have to be… it doesn't matter. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you… I'm not trying to stop you if you want to go. I just think you should let the shock pass before you drive. That’s all. If you don’t feel safe, I understand. I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention…”

He trailed off, looking so miserable and stressed, raking his hand through his hair so it stuck up in five directions, his eyes darting left and right.

Even with all these competing emotions, I almost laughed.

“You’re fine,” I said, then my breath hitched because I was starting to cry. Ihatecrying. “I just… thank you for telling me.”

Then I bolted.

He stepped out of my way and didn’t try to stop me. But as I whipped past, he murmured, “I’ll pray for safe travel. Please be careful.”

I nodded, biting my lip as I fled.

When I got out to the car I pressed the wrong button on the key twice, so I was cursing by the time I got the door open. Then my shaking fingers made me fumble and drop the keys trying to get it into the ignition. Then I hit my head on the steering wheel when I tried to bend down to reach for them.

Somehow, I ended up sitting there, both hands on the wheel, my forehead buried in the crook of my elbow, weeping.

Weeping for the loss of a man I barely knew, but who had been the only man in my life that cared about me without wanting to have sex, or being paid to be there.

And even though I wouldn’t have named Richard if someone had asked who my closest friends were, it turned out that I verysuddenly, and very acutely felt the hollow space he left in his passing… much more than I would ever have imagined.

Some time later, I’d stopped crying, but I was still feeling strangely fragile and afraid to face the world. I hadn’t looked up or got the keys, or anything. Then there was a rap on the window next to my shoulder and I startled.

When I snapped my head up, Sam was standing at the window, looking apologetic and very tired, with deep lines around his eyes and mouth, and a sexy stubble darkening his jaw.

I had the sudden thought that if they made all priests like this, probably more people would want to come to church. But I swallowed back the slightly hysterical snort and rolled down my window.

Sam leaned one hand on the top of the car and spoke as if this was a continuation of our conversation in the chapel.

“I’m really glad you didn’t drive,” he said quietly. “I was worried. Look, everyone’s leaving now. Why don’t you come in and I’ll make a pot of coffee? I know I could use some.”

I stared up at him for a second through aching eyes. Then shrugged.

I didn’t know why this news about Richard was hitting me so hard. But this guy was cute and obviously had a good heart. And the thought of the drive home just to walk into my empty house alone seemed… too much.

Why not?

I didn’t speak the words, just pushed the door open and, as Sam stepped back to give me room, got out, remembering to leanback in to fish the keys from off the floor and close the window, before turning and following the muscular priest across the parking lot, to that fence behind the chapel, and into the magical little garden, then up to the cottage door.

As Sam pulled a key out of his pocket, he grimaced. “I only arrived this morning, so I haven’t had a chance to box up his things. Just wanted to warn you.”

I shrugged and followed him through the door into the entryway, then that little galley kitchen.

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