Page 13 of Sin With Me

Daryl had a beard, and I wasn’t interested. I slouched in my seat and shook my head. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have let my guard down at the bar. I shouldn’t have been drinking and lusting over a man, period. And Father Cameron wasn’t just any man. He was a priest.

I finished my coffee and walked back to the church office. Thankfully, Father Cameron was nowhere to be seen. I picked up a packet of mail that had come in yesterday and went back to my office where boxes full of papers were waiting to be organized. I startled at the knock on mydoor.

“Do you have a minute, Kate?” Father Cameron asked, peeking through the glass panes in mydoor.

Sweat dripped between my boobs and down myback.

“Yes, of course. Come in. I apologize for the heat. The air conditioner broke down this morning.”

Because what else could break during one of the biggest heat waves? Definitely not the furnace.

“Did you call a repair man?” he asked.

“There isn’t really anyone in town that’s knowledgeable. Father John is pretty handy, but I doubt he knows anything about air conditioning and he’s sick. Anything I can help youwith?”

The longer I looked at him, the hotter I felt, and the more I wished for that damn air conditioner towork.

If my mother knew the thoughts I was having about a priest, she would have hit me over the head, and that would have been an easy out. But what was I supposed to do? Turn off the hormones? How was I supposed to think of this deliciously handsome man I’d met at a bar as nothing more than a friend?

He’s a priest, I repeated in my mind. It didn’thelp.

“Father John mentioned some old paperwork he wants me to go through. Do you know what he was thinkingof?”

“You mean these boxes?” I pointed to the stacks of cardboard containers where papers were spilling out from underneath thelids.

“Yeah, I guess.” His shoulders slouched as he realized what I’d known since the day I started working here: the task of sorting the papers was impossible. Father John had started organizing them, slowly moving old ones into the attic, but the job was too great for one person.

“Pull up a chair. Coffee?” I asked.

“Yes, please. It looks like this will take a while.”

“More like a year,” I laughed. “I’d help you, but—”

“It’s all right. I don’t want to useyou.”

Use me?Why did that sound like a promise? Stop it. “I’ll get the coffee.”

I pulled my chair away and went to the kitchen. On my way back, I bumped into Mrs. Duarte, who of course needed to chat about her cat’s latest illness. She was a nice lady, a little nutty perhaps, but it suited her cat lady demeanor.

“I promise to stop by to see Snowflake, but you should take her to the vet next time someone goes intotown.”

The closest town was two hours away. I doubted that cat would ever get help, but offering no help at all would have beenrude.

“I will, darling. You make sure you drink plenty of water because it’s easy to dehydrate in thisheat.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Duarte.”

Feeling the thick air collect into another drop on my skin I made a mental note to ask Father John about the air conditioning. An unexpected cool breeze swept past my office door. I pushed it open and stopped. By the window, Father Cameron appeared to be trying to fix the cooling unit — shirtless.

I leaned against the doorframe and took a moment to enjoy the view of a strong man’s back, muscles flexing and twisting, sweat dripping in provocative patterns, forking when it reached a larger muscle. There were two scars on his lower back, as well as a fresh round wound I recognized as a bullethole.

What happened?

It wasn’t until Father Cameron cleared his throat that I remembered I wasn’t having a dream and was now admiring his beautiful chest, lightly sprinkled with dark hair, as well as the tattoo over his ribcage. The black waves of font spelled out the word hope and I couldn’t stop staring.

If he onlyknew…

“Are you feeling okay, Kate?” he asked.

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