Page 52 of Almost Priest

“The noise, the pollution, the people who are perpetually rude like it’s their birth right.”

He chuckled and moved them forward a smidge. Her shoulders tensed, but he didn’t acknowledge her apprehension. His arms crossed over her bare belly, his left hand resting on her right hip and vise-versa. He massaged her skin lightly.

“Was the school you student taught at in the city?”

“Um…” She answered as if it were a difficult question, likely she was having a hard time with their position. The water crested their feet and was now just below mid-calf. “I…what?”

“The school you did your student teaching at, was it in the city?”

“Oh. Yes.”

“Where about?”

Her breathing became slightly labored but nothing like the other day when she suffered a panic attack. With every brush of his fingertips along her skin, her body seemed to relax into his by small degrees.

“With traffic it was about twenty minutes from campus.”

“And how far is campus from home?”

“About forty minutes. It’s mostly highway, but then you get into the city and it takes forever.”

He nudged her forward a step and asked, “Are you considering applying to that school?”

“Yes. They already have my resume and I have a good rapport with the faculty there.”

“How far would a commute be from there to home?”

“Probably about thirty minutes, because it’s not as ensconced in the city as my apartment.”

A light breeze danced across the surface. Branches swayed slowly and he was mesmerized by the way Samantha’s skin prickled from her shoulders to her neck leaving a dusting of goose bumps. The water was warmer than most times of the year, but still cool over their skin. He kissed the side of her neck.

“I think you’ll be a wonderful teacher.”

She grew quiet and he wondered what she was thinking about.

Finally she said, “And you’ll be a great priest.”

His mouth opened and he hesitated. Shutting his eyes, he said, “I hope so.”

“You will. You have this calming quality about you. It’s enchanting. Between that and your looks I imagine your female parishioners will be so up in arms it’ll be worse than the tales of Father Ralph de Bricassart from theThorn Birds.”

“And are you to be my Meggie? The woman that haunts my dreams and owns a piece of me God will never have?”

She stepped out of his embrace and turned to face him. “No, Colin. Meggie led a tragic life and I won’t sentence myself to such a fate. She was the thorn bird that sang only once then bludgeoned her heart as a price for that short song. When you give yourself to the church, give all of you. It’s torture to emotionally be in two places at once. True love is a complete surrender without regret or ever looking back. You’ll be marrying the church and that’s where your heart must lie, same as I’ll someday give my heart over to my husband without reserve. I’ll never forget our time here, but I plan to work damn hard to. I can’t put myself through a lifetime of wanting what I’ll never have. I will not ‘pierce my breast for the glory of one song’ that’ll never be sung back to me.”

He brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. She was so reasonable yet somehow had an incredibly romantic soul.

“I’ll always envy the man that marries you, Sammy. I’ll confess it first among all sins until the day I die. I know I shouldn’t, but the heart is a muscle with reflexes of its own that we have no control over. You will always be my one thing left unfinished, the masterpiece that slipped away.”

She gazed up at him with slightly trembling shoulders. He wondered if she shook, not because of her fear of the water, but because the reality of his words. He hadn’t lied. He’d never forget her. She was the first and only woman he had ever cared for to such a degree. He needed her then in such a way it shook him to his core.

Slowly leaning down, so not to break the emotionally laden moment, he pressed his mouth to hers. Their bodies touched only at their lips as he sipped from her. Her small tongue skated over his lower lip and he smiled. He had never imagined kissing to be so intoxicating.

Slowly, she took a small step closer to him and her breasts pressed into his chest. Under the inconsequential scraps of fabric, her pebbled nipples gently stabbed into his skin. His arms wrapped tightly around her and the kiss intensified, picking up speed and overflowing with need.

Her body tipped back as he deepened the kiss. He somehow managed to lower her to the ground and settled himself on top of her. She gasped. Cool water crossed their sun kissed thighs and electrified his senses. Her shorts became wet, forming a film over her skin, and sand clumped to their flesh like grits of glue. They were only at the bank, sitting upon the water’s edge, so when he eased her back the ripples of the lake lapped at her hips, but left her shoulders dry.

Dark hair spiraled around her face like a dark halo, small flecks of yellow sand interrupting the solid chestnut sheen. He tugged at the string around her neck and watched as her top came loose. Raising her arms above her head, she knotted her fingers together and rested them in the sand. He pulled both sides of the string toward her belly, flipping the cups covering her breasts back, exposing two tightly puckered nipples.

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