Page 62 of Sin With Me

Chapter16

Kate

Somethingabout the smell of apple crumble and fresh sunflower honey in the last weeks of summer made the time feel more special. That and the constant reminder of Father Cameron’s lips on mine. It had been a week since we’d kissed in my family’s crypt, and I could still feel his need on my lips. He’d kissed me like a man desperate to keep an ounce of his masculinity, and I let him. That night, I would have let him do anything to me, and I was grateful that the sudden howl in the chapel above us had finally pulled us apart.

Avoiding the subject of our affection for each other, during the past week I’d hidden away in the attic, searching for Jack or anything that would bring me closer to finding out whether Aaron Cortez had plans to return to Pace. If he did, I was as good asdead.

Tonight, however, for the first time since that wonderfully torturous kiss, I’d need to face Father Cameron at the summer potluck. Our relationship had not only become too complicated but also confusing. I trusted him like no other man. When I thought about a future, it was he who I saw standing beside me, no one else. But that small fact that he was a priest kept coming up, and I didn’t how to avoid it. I couldn’t. There was noway.

Three days ago, I escaped the world into my kitchen and began preparing dishes my mother used to make. Now I was staring at a table filled with wild turkey, baked stuffing, meatloaf, grilled mushrooms wrapped in bacon, yams, an apple crumble, and two strawberry rhubarb pies. I rested my hands on my hips and admired the creations oncemore.

“You know, they call it a potluck for a reason.” Father Cameron’s breath flowed onto the back of my neck, and I felt all the hairs there stand up. Lola had pinned it all up into a gorgeous updo this afternoon. That breath had nearly the same effect on me as his kiss — a combination of staggering nerves, quickly beating heart, and wet panties.

I turned around to face him and almost gasped. Wearing a black shirt, he looked like a delicious meal that belonged on the menu as well. Except I’d have a difficult time sharing.

“I guess I got a little carried away,” Isaid.

He angled his head inquisitively, looking me over as if I were the main dish being served tonight. My body heated with lust. He should have been forbidden to look at me that way. It made me think of him differently. It made me look at him differently as well, and that was dangerous.

“You look… stunning,” hesaid.

The room temperature automatically rose, along with my heart rate. I brushed my hands over the most festive dress I could find, with a long column of buttons all the way down to the hem, and then took my time admiring him: his freshly shaven face, combed through hair that still appeared a little disheveled, and those crystal eyes that stood out against his darker complexion.

“Thank you. You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

“I’m wearing the same thing I do every day, Kate.”

Black.My favorite color, though scientifically, black was not even a color. It was composed of all colors, just like Father Cameron was… everything.

To add to his mystery behind this black outfit, Father Cameron wasn’t wearing his clerical collar. The top button of his shirt was undone, and he could have easily passed for a common man. Scratch that. Common wasn’t anywhere near the description I should have used for someone so… captivating. He looked even better than the evening we met at the Bistro.

“Well, the color suitsyou.”

“They say black is not a color.”

I chuckled.

“Besides, I don’t always wear black. Sometimes I wear nothing.”

“But you just said—” I caught on to his words a moment too late and felt my lips part. Why would he say that tome?

Feeling unwavering arousal return to my body, I cleared my throat. “What happened to the collar?”

“Today’s my dayoff.”

Oh!

“Thank you for decorating the hall,” I said, and looked up to the ceiling where a few cardboard summer decorations along with some birds sitting mid-air were hanging. “Does that look weird?”

“The birds?” he asked.

“Yes – like they werehung.”

“Because theywere.”

I chuckled again. Father Cameron let out a snicker as well. My nerves were beginning to get the best ofme.

“They were supposed to look like they were flying, not dead.” Desperate to hide my apprehension, I laughed even harder. “The flowers look beautiful,” I said, as a compliment to the gorgeous bouquets on each table.”

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