Page 13 of At Her Will

“Yes.”

He rose. To exit the pew this time, he moved in front of her, his gaze on her lifted face. She touched the crease of his slacks over his knee, just a glancing brush. His eyes went there, those gingerbread eyes heating, and then he was past her and slipping out of the door.

As she brought her attention back to the front, she noticed the aunt staring at her. So was the preacher. And their looks weren’t friendly.

Leaning against her car door, Vera could see the front of the church. As the remaining parishioners came out, Witford and Rev’s aunt shook hands and thanked them for attending.

Rev had joined them, but he was quiet, standing back, only engaging if someone spoke to him. Since the preacher took the lead in almost every instance, very few did, though Rev was touched often. His forearm, his shoulder, a hand pressed. A grateful smile sent his way. Like he was a sacred relic they needed to touch, or connect with in some way.

When the church was empty, Witford spoke to him. Rev shook his head and gestured toward Vera. The aunt responded with a note of urgency. Interestingly, Vera saw Rev’s expression harden, though his tone with her was patient. She couldn’t hear most of the exchange, but she heard his parting words. “I’ll be by later, Tisha.”

As Rev went down the steps, their worried eyes followed him. While Mavis might suspect their motives, which meant Vera did, too, at least some of the worry she saw in them was for Rev, which mystified her. He was a grown man, after all.

As he reached her, he extended his hand. She placed hers in it, curious, and he pulled a folded paper from his pocket and transferred it into her palm. It was the hundred-dollar bill she’d put in the collection plate.

“How did you know it was mine?” She kept her fingers curled over his, so he’d know she didn’t want to break the contact.

“It smelled like your perfume. And Ray told Witford the ‘new lady in the back’ offered it. You aren’t here for that. It’s not necessary.”

She turned their hands over, closed his fingers over the money and grasped his wrist. His gaze flickered at her grip. “First lesson, Rev. Don’t second guess my intentions. Understand?”

His pulse accelerated under her touch. “I’ll be back,” he said.

He crossed the parking lot, intercepting the usher she now knew was Ray. When he handed the money back to him, Ray gave him a curious look, then a grin and a light punch to his shoulder. Rev smiled wryly.

As he returned, she reminded herself she was standing in a church parking lot. She shouldn’t obviously ogle him, no matter how good the man looked and moved in a suit. But it was a view worth appreciating.

“Couldn’t give it to him later?”

“I don’t like handling money much.” Rev paused, waited. She arched a brow.

“You said I shouldn’t second guess your intentions. I’m waiting to hear them before I tell you mine.”

“I’d like to take you to lunch. Or a coffee. Whatever you prefer this time of day.”

Those light brown eyes held hers with an unsettling expression. He still didn’t say anything.

“Problem?”

"I just want to be the one doing the asking."

“Fine, then.” She produced a card from her purse. “This is my cell and email. Reach out to me when the spirit moves you and we’ll see what works out.”

She pivoted on her heel. Yet when she reached the driver’s side of the car, he had followed her and was standing close. Heheld the card carefully, but he didn’t seem to have taken his eyes off of her.

“Miss Morgan? Veracity?”

“Yes?”

“May I take you somewhere?” At her look, he added, “Didn’t say I wanted to wait to ask. Unless you prefer that.”

Her brief irritation was overruled by a larger desire to smile. Rev took a step, bringing himself closer. Not too close, not really, but his sexual appeal was a strong, pressing energy. His easy indifference to it only increased the effect.

Sunday church goers looked forward to lunch, so the parking lot had emptied fast, leaving them mostly alone and unobserved.

“There’s a place I like to go, near here,” he told her. “It’s quiet and pretty. That’s what I prefer after church. I eat later, at my aunt’s. She do a full Sunday dinner, and if I don’t leave room for every dish, I hurt her feelings. You welcome to join me for that, if you have that kind of time.”

“Not today. But the pretty place sounds good.”

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