Page 65 of Sin With Me

Well, I knew for a fact that Father Cameron wasn’t completely celibate, and since the moment I’d seen his hand around himself, every night as I fell asleep I’d imagined him guiding himself inside ofme.

“I wouldn’t call it great, Lola. More like quick.”

She burst out laughing. In my mind, I’d committed another sin I’d need to confess to a man who had no idea how I felt about him. Heck, I wasn’t sure what I felt about him myself. Besides, something told me that a man like Father Cameron wouldn’t be quick. He’d take his sweet time discovering every warm nook of my body. He’d be gentle at first, stretching me before pushing me hard against awall.

“You’re thinking about it. I can tell.” Lola gently pinched myarm.

“You cannot.”

“Sure I can. And so can he.” She motioned with her head to the table set up with food, where Father Cameron was standing near the end, holding his plate and looking straight at me. There was something comfortably uncomfortable about his stare, and I shifted in my seat, praying there wouldn’t be a wet stain on my dress when I stoodup.

The evening passed by in laughter. For the first time since I’d arrived in Pace, I felt like I was at home, and the possibility of remaining here for the rest of my life didn’t sound as awful as it once did. That was, if my mother could move here and if I had a guarantee that Aaron Cortez and his family wouldn’t come after her. I just couldn’t imagine the town as violent as some of the stories I’d heard.

“You sure you can handle everything else?” Lola asked.

“Yes, go. You’ve done enough.”

By ten o’clock all the decorations had been taken down, chairs and tables were folded and put back into storage, and the kids had swept the floor. Father John had retired to his room for the night.

With my hands on my hips, I stared at the stack of dirty dishes on one of the tables, wondering if I could wash them all by sunrise.

“If you think you can tackle these on your own, then you’re a brave woman.” Father Cameron’s voice behind me gave me a start.

“Why? Are you going to put away all the extra food and wash all the pots andpans?”

We had so many leftovers that there was enough for tomorrow’s lunch. The kids were excited to come back, especially since soccer game finals were on and Father Cameron promised to let them watch all together in the downstairshall.

“Let’s put these to good use.” He reached out his hands and wiggled his fingers, and all I could do was stare at their length and thickness. While my mind searched for ways in which I could feel the strength of those giving hands, I was also desperate to return to reality. I licked my lower lip and bit it. It didn’t help. It was only his voice that pulled me away from mydaze.

“Kate? Is there something wrong with my hands?”

“No, of course not. They’re…”

Perfect.

“They’re all good. I’m good. We’regood.”

I was stuttering, and Father Cameron tipped his head to the side and his brows narrowed more andmore.

“I should go clean if I want to go to bed at a decent hour.” I turned on my heel, away from Father Cameron, grabbed a few pans, and headed for the stairs, then for the kitchen. Did I have to mention a bed to him? Because now I was imagining him in it. Was he following me? I didn’t dare look back, because the thought of having him behind me put my imagination into overdrive again.

Behindme.

On my knees.

On myback.

Against thewall.

I shook the thoughts away as I pushed my foot against the kitchen door, opening it. I set the dishes on the counter just as Father Cameron squeezed past me. He rolled up his sleeves and turned on the faucet. Afraid of saying something stupid, I kept my mouth shut and removed the clean dishes from his hands. I dried them and stacked them to theside.

His heat radiated toward me. The smell of his musky aroma that brought a little bit of the city back was doing something funny in my lungs. It was a strong and powerful fragrance of a man who knew exactly what he wanted from life – and he belonged to the church.

When we finished putting away the pots and pans, I leaned against the counter and lowered my head. My neck hurt. I’d woken up early in the morning to finish cooking and it had been a longday.

The touch of his fingers underneath my hairline jolted me upward.

“Shh,” he cooed. “Looks like you’re the one in need of a massage today.”

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