“I’m sorry about all this. And thanks for stepping in.” I pulled my hands from my face to look at him. The distance between us made me smile inwardly. He was a very respectful guy. I almost wished he wasn’t. That he would reach out to console me.
He’s a monk, you genius. Of course he won’t touch you.
“Are you all right?” His green eyes wandered my face from beneath low-drawn brows. A mix of concern and a load of questions were etched into his handsome features.
“Yeah. Let me get my things so we can head back to the monastery. I promise he won’t bother us there.” I rose, my gaze landing on the pile of glossy magazines on my coffee table. A very shirtless and very ripped guy was on the top cover.
Ugh, how embarrassing. It wasn’t even mine. Bella had left it here after showing me that guy she couldn’t stop swooning over—Keaton Grady. She’d been pretty bummed when she found out that he'd married Layne Rhyner, a former Swiss professional climber. But I agreed with her—he was otherworldly attractive. When I’d moved to this island three years ago, I’d learnedquickly that the Gradys were a big deal. They owned a multi-billion dollar whiskey company. Lincoln Grady was one of the most requested spirits at the club I worked at.
I looked at Keaton’s face. Black hair, electric blue eyes, a strong jaw. Something about his features reminded me of . . . I glanced at Brother Samuel.
Wait, wait, wait.
“He’s my brother.” Brother Samuel gave me a smile I couldn’t decipher. Definitely not a thrilled one.
But wow, that made a lot of sense. “You’re a Grady,” I stated the obvious. Bella would lose it if she knew Keaton’s brother had been in my apartment.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I was pretty sure Brother Samuel winced. “Yes.”
Bet he hides a similar body like that under his habit.
I groaned inwardly.Stop it, Harley.Stupid, rogue thoughts. “Does this mean you left millions behind to become a monk?”
“I don’t care much for worldly belongings.”
“Guess you don’t. Why did you become a monk?”
He ran a hand over his mouth and bearded jaw. “How about I tell you all about that on the way back?”
“Deal. I’ll go pack.” And do it quickly, because I couldn’t wait to find out more about him. Something about this man piqued my curiosity. No, he downright intrigued me. He’d better be ready for my flood of questions.
Ten minutes later, we sat in the F-150, Brother Samuel behind the wheel and I in the passenger seat. I had changed into an olive maxi skirt, a white blouse with puff sleeves, and comfy leather sandals. I loved this combo, not to mention it fit the monastery’s rules.
“Do you mind if we go into Glam City real quick?” I asked, scanning every car in sight for Craig. “I need to talk to my boss.”
Brother Samuel glanced at the sky as if the answer was written there.
“It’s only a ten-minute drive,” I added.
His gaze came to me. “Uh, sure.” The way his large hands briefly curled around the leather steering wheel told me he wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but he was already signaling to merge onto the highway leading in that direction. He checked the mirrors, then looked over his shoulder before changing lanes—almost like a student driver taking the driver’s test. Something told me he executed everything he did with this kind of carefulness.
“So, tell me more about why you became a monk.”
He sniffed. “I was born to privilege. Brought a lot of drama with it, fake people, priorities that held no values. Didn’t want to be like that.”
Ahead, the skyscrapers of Glam City towered into the blue morning sky. A lot of these buildings were businesses and apartments or hotels, but some were also clubs that only closed for a couple of hours for cleaning, only to open again so the locals and tourists could party on. Some said Glam City was like Las Vegas, others said it was worse.
I brushed a rogue strand out of my face. “That makes sense. But why a monastery?”
“I was always intrigued by their way of living. When I was in high school, I wrote a report on monks and interviewed Father Cruz. He showed me around Saint James Monastery. I was hooked.”
“Their simple lifestyle intrigued you?”
“Yeah. And their devotion to God.” He threw a quick glance my way, then focused back on the road.
“That’s something I admire, too. Giving everything up for God seems nearly impossible in my opinion. No matter how hard I try, I always find myself wandering. It’s like the secular world has its claws deeply buried in me.” I sighed. “You know, like what Paul wrote in Romans. I have the desire to do good, but do evil instead.”
“It certainly isn’t easy. Especially when you live and work in the secular world. We’re more shielded at the monastery.”