Page 53 of A Taste of Grace

The girls clapped their hands and nodded.

“I can’t wait!” Esther squealed.

I grinned and pulled out my phone.

“I want to capture this moment. Smile, girls.” They put their arms around each other and beamed. “Now, everyone.” I repositioned the phone so we were all in the picture for a selfie. “Say family on three…one, two, three.”

“Family!”

We smiled hard as I pressed the button to capture our memory. I checked out the picture and put it back in my purse.

“Now, I’m ready.”

Attention Please

I may have beenthe shepherd of my flock, but Grace was the center of attention this morning. The second she walked in with the girls and me, people started leaning into each other and whispering. I smiled and waved, acknowledging several church members who openly stared at us. Like the queen she was, Grace remained focused with her back straight and head held high, guiding Hannah and Esther by their shoulders until they got to their seats next to Mama. When we faced forward, she smiled at me. I winked back.

Although the scent of her sweet perfume filled my nostrils throughout the service, I remained focused on praise andworship and my pastoral duty to usher in the presence of God until it was time for me to deliver the word.

But when Grace crossed her thick, sexy legs at the ankle, I cracked. They were moisturized to perfection under sheer pantyhose. Her firm ankle caught my eye in the nude-colored stilettos that presented her lower body as a delicious treat I wanted to devour. Her arm brushed against the skirt of her dress, accidentally lifting it and giving me an unexpected peek of her shapely thigh.

Never had I been tempted by a woman’s legs like that before, especially in the house of God. Now was the wrong time for me to learn firsthand why the mothers of the church insisted that women use those little cloths to cover their laps when they sat in the front row.

Instead of watching me eye her thigh meat, Grace furrowed her brow, taking copious notes. The angle of her body, combined with her obvious hunger for the word, had me even more distracted.

Only when the tenor of my voice slowed did she meet my gaze. She raised her eyebrow then followed my eyes to the place on her body that had me in a chokehold. Within seconds, Grace blushed and reached for the hem of her dress, readjusting it to lie more securely over her knees. She shook her head before mouthing the wordfocusso clearly I knew exactly what she was saying. I nodded and scanned the congregation.

“We must remain vigilant when Satan comes to tempt us.” The words of the sermon lined up perfectly with the warning I needed to tell myself.

Did they have the air on today?

I pulled my collar from my neck then picked up my handkerchief and wiped my brow before continuing. But I couldn’t. I closed my eyes and paused to regroup. This made no sense. When I opened my eyes again, Grace gave me anencouraging smile. I took a big breath and gripped the lectern with my hands.

“I’ve always been a man of order, but the Holy Spirit is moving me to let you all in on a little secret. I was preaching and flowing until the presence of a captivating woman moved me. Never in my life has the shine of a woman distracted me like it has today. That is because it is time for me to share something with you. Grace, could you please join me?” I extended my hand toward her.

Everyone’s eyes gravitated to Grace.

Her mouth fell as she sat up straight, looking like a deer caught in headlights. My mother reached for Grace’s Bible, notebook, and pen, and nudged her with her shoulder. Mama leaned over and whispered something in Grace’s ear, prompting her to hop up. She brushed the skirt of her dress down as she stepped toward me then ascended three of the five short steps below me. As she approached, I walked her way. When I extended my hand, she cupped her fingers in mine and gave me a shy smile. She stood by me as people fidgeted, several in the middle and the back standing up and rocking back and forth. Curtis, the organist, let out a flowery run on the Hammond B3 organ as more people stood. When Grace giggled, I giggled too. It was as if the joy that was on her hopped on me. I leaned toward her and spoke into her ear.

“You good?”

She squeezed my hand and nodded. I escorted her to the center of the platform where we held hands.

“Family, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Grace Toliver.”

Grace blushed and raised the hand that held the engagement ring to brush her hair behind her ear.

“Is that what I think it is?” Mother Wesley, the loudest woman in the church, rose and hollered out from the front row, pointing at Grace and me.

Grace dropped her hand to her side and covered her ring with her other hand, but it was too late. Mother Wesley started jumping up and down in her little heels, her hat flopping from side to side until she took it off and dropped it in the seat behind her.

“Come on, Pastor!” Mother Freeman, who sat by Mother Wesley, shouted.

Grace held her head down and squeezed my hand.

“I think they figured it out,” she said in a whisper.

I raised my free hand to calm everyone down.

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