Page 27 of Almost Priest

Sheilagh’s brows lowered the slightest degree as if she noticed Sam’s sudden change of disposition. The sharp redhead looked to her eldest brother and Sam feared she’d detected her impure thoughts, but then Sheilagh’s nose crinkled as if the whole idea of seeing Colin as anything other than a holy figure was ridiculous. Her expression showed she’d dismissed the entire byplay as meaningless.

“Come on, Samantha, come to the lake. It’ll be fun to have a girl there for once.”

As if drawn by her name, Colin watched her as he poured coffee into a mug. Never taking his gaze from hers he somehow managed to pull the pot away without spilling a drop just before his cup overflowed.

Unaffected by her withdrawal, Braydon took a seat along with everyone else, sans Colin and Maureen, who was placing a heaping pile of home fries on the table followed by a steaming plate of eggs. Feeling more the center of attention by standing, Samantha quickly dropped back into her seat and looked at her plate.

Sheilagh was still watching her, but Sam couldn’t expend the energy to care because she was too focused on ignoring Colin’s penetrating stare.

“We should take the boat out,” Braydon suggested as he piled food on his plate. “Samantha would probably rather go tubing than sit on the beach all day.”

The blood drained from her face and her stomach flipped horribly at the idea of being dragged behind a speeding boat on a tube whipping over water. Suddenly, a day with Sheilagh on the sand sounded perfect.

“I think I’d rather go with your sister if you don’t mind.”

He shrugged as if how she spent her day made no difference to him.

“That’s fine. We’ll probably all meet up there at some point anyway.”

Colin took a seat in her peripheral and unbuttoned his collar and rolled up his sleeves before reaching for a dish. He seemed oddly comfortable within any setting. This aggravated her. She had some preconceived notion that he should appear more proper than the rest.

She froze mid-nibble when he asked, “Do you like boats, Sammy?”

Placing her fork on her plate she wiped her mouth on her napkin and looked into those piercing green-blue eyes. The rest of the family, including Sheilagh, was busy eating and chatting without the courtesy of eye contact. It was as if they were standing above the rest on a cloud of privacy.

“Not particularly.”

He nodded as if he understood there was more to what she said than was actually spoken. She frowned at him and he silently laughed. Her stare shot back to her plate and spent the rest of the meal avoiding his gaze.

An hour later she was staring in the mirror, tugging at her cotton shirt, frowning again. Sheilagh wasn’t kidding when she said her suit had strings. That was pretty much all the bathing suit consisted of, strings and a couple small patches of navy blue nylon.

Her body was incredibly exposed even with the cover of her shorts and shirt. One wrong move and a nipple would fall out. There was no way she was taking off her shirt at the lake. Her underwear and bra would’ve been a more decent cover.

When there was a knock at the door she turned. Braydon walked in before she could answer.

She scowled at him, wondering what he would’ve done if she were indecent. Not that he seemed to even look at her. He marched over to his dresser and grabbed a key attached to a spongy keychain from a dish then went to the closet and retrieved a pair of flip-flops. It was his room, but she still bristled when he intruded on her privacy without apologizing.

“Are you gonna drive over to the lake with Shei?”

Sam sat on the edge of the bed and watched as he removed items from his pocket and sorted through them as if taking inventory then returned the items to his pockets in a more organized manner. Good thing she wasn’t an overly sensitive girl or an attention whore, because his disregard for her was starting to get really old and she considered herself a rather tolerant person.

“Sure.”

“Good.” He glanced at her as he was about to leave then paused. “Did you get a suit?”

She nodded.

“Can I see?”

“I’m not planning on taking off my shirt.”

He walked over to her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers reached for her hand and tugged her to her feet. He was going to kiss her. There was that odd change in the atmosphere that told her so.

Standing, she looked him in the eye. He smiled and she knew he was feeling tickles of emotion that were absent from her.

“So modest,” he commented softly as he touched her bottom lip with his thumb. She somewhat resented that her body couldn’t produce even the most mediocre reaction to his attention when he gave it. It was as if her rational conscience was too involved around him to ever let her forget herself.

His lips touched hers and slowly coaxed her mouth open. The kiss was pleasant, but nothing more. His hands rested on her hips, softly massaging the slight curve. As his tongue slowly played with hers he moaned and pulled her closer. He was slightly aroused, but nowhere near fully.

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