Page 15 of Follow Your Bliss

“It’s not a pity deal. Promise. Like I said, you’d be renting the apartment a few months before I’m ready, so until I get my kitchen and bath built out in the main church, I’ll have to use yours. I can use the half bath in the church most of the time, but I’ll need this one for showers. Come see the kitchen before you make up your mind.”

I followed him out into the hallway, but stopped and looked longingly back down the hall. “The living room would be a perfect studio for my dressmaking. Would it be okay if I used the place as a business?”

He flipped the light on in the kitchen. “Yeah, do whatever. But there’s another room next to the living room I forgot to show you. It’s full of my junk right now, but I’ll move it out so you don’t have to lose your living room to work. I know how important it is to have a workshop. Frankly, I don’t know why every house isn’t built with a dedicated workroom. I’m building one into my house here.”

“That’s brilliant.” Hands on the back of a chair, I looked around the kitchen. It clearly hadn’t felt the magical caress of Jason’s foxy hands, but it was clean. “My mom always wanted a workroom, back when she taught sewing classes in our garage, before she went back and got her graduate degree.”

His brows lowered. “Oh yeah, isn’t she a couple’s therapist?”

I cackled, rolling my eyes. “No. She’s a sex therapist. I can tell you all about orgasms, but nobody in my family knows shit about relationships.”

His dimples divoted in a big smile, and he scratched at his beard, casting his gaze around the room as if he wasn’t sure where to look after that statement. “I haven’t had time or money to renovate in here. Stove’s old, but everything works. The refrigerator’s new, and so’s the vinyl floor and the wall paint. I’ll renovate it when I have a functioning kitchen in the main house, so at some point, you’ll have to use my kitchen,” he joked. “There’s a hookup for a washer and dryer there”— he pointed to an alcove with open accordion doors—“but I haven’t put them in yet. Bring ‘em if you have ‘em, but if not, you’re welcome to use mine in the church until I get you a set. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I don’t care. The kitchen’s great.” I put my hands flat on the table and leaned toward him. “But if the rectory’s this beautiful, you have to show me what you’ve done in the church.” I bit my lips together. I’d pretty much invited myself into his personal space, and maybe that was weird. “I mean, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, absolutely!” His pleased surprise made me smile. “I’d love to show you. Nobody ever comes around. Come on.” He held the kitchen door open for me and led me through the familiar brick arches in the courtyard.

Maybe I shouldn’t have invited myself into his house. That’s not a normal renter-rentee thing to do. And now we were walking side by side without talking. This silence was painful.

“My mom’s the main thing most people remember about me. She’s amazing, but geez, imagine being sixteen at Lakeside Mall with your mom, and having college kids point at her and say, ‘I had sex with that lady!’”

He completely stopped, hand on the door, and glanced down at me. He looked totally confused and more than a little alarmed. “Wait, what?”

“She teaches human sexuality at the University of New Orleans,” I blurted, laughing nervously. Why must I fill silences?

He laughed again, and I joined in as he led me into his house. At least I was making him laugh today?

“Maybe lead with that next time.”

“Noted.” I stepped all the way in, turning every which way to take in one of the most beautiful homes I’d ever been in. The old church was so much like I remembered, but also not at all. The vaulted wooden ceiling was still there, but he’d cleared the pews and laid down fresh wooden floors—a few pews sat along the far side wall as if hadn’t wanted to get rid of them but didn’t know what to do with them yet. The deep altar area, set up on two stacked platforms, held a console table with a record player. A cozy living area anchored the middle of the great room with rugs and sofas. Fresh tile and paint graced the foyer, as well as a few doors that hadn’t been there before. Above the foyer, over the choir loft, the sun shone through the stained-glass window of a dove and cast everything it touched in shades of blue and orange.

It was clean and elegant with a mostly white and wood palette, but rustic and comfortable with pops of gray-blues and bohemian-type rugs in reds and yellows. Soothing, gorgeous, and comfortable. “Wow. I’ll never live anywhere this beautiful. Did you hire a decorator, or are you just naturally good at everything?”

He smiled. “I’m naturally an obsessive learner and Pinterester. I’m thrilled you like it. I never get to show it off, and the more I sit here with my decisions, the more I second-guess myself.” He pointed toward the foyer. “I put in a fresh half bath, and I added an office for myself. Where the altar used to be will be the kitchen. One day.”

“Wow.” I turned to where he stood against the wall, his thick arms folded across his chest. He bit his lip as if worried what I would think.

“Jason, this is…sobeautiful. Not that the rectory isn’t beautiful too, but this room is like therapy. It’selevated. Like I might come knocking on your door just to sit in here and be calm.”

“Thank you! It’s nowhere near done. Come see where everything’s going to be.” He led me to the altar where he explained how the kitchen would be laid out. The dining room beside it, in the area where priests used to get ready for mass, already held a fine-ass dining table and chairs.

I ran my hand along the tabletop. “This is gorgeous. Did you make this?”

His almost-proud smile was so tentative and humble I wanted to hug him. “Yeah. Even did the upholstery. It’s amazing what people will teach you for free online.”

I pulled a chair out to peer at the seat, which was smoothly and uniformly done in the palest vintage gold velvet that I would never have thought should look this amazing with everything else. “I’m so impressed! You did such a professional job. It’s so neatly done.”

“That’s high praise coming from someone with your talent.” He walked across the room toward a fireplace with a deep hearth perfect for sitting on. The chimney was so well integrated it looked original even though I knew better.

“I put a fireplace in. It was a bitch, but I learned a lot about brickwork.” He laid his hand on the mantel. “I thought about sanding this down, but I can’t decide which way I like it.”

I stepped beside him, inspecting the unsanded piece of wood. “Oh, I like it rough.”

He huffed a soft laugh, and then I heard what I’d said.

I snorted. “For the mantel, too.”

He pointed up to the choir loft over the foyer. “I’m sleeping up there for now and building a bathroom up there. But I can’t decide if I want it to be the master bedroom, or if I’ll make it a lounge area slash guest room.”

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