His eyes softened before he turned away, amused smile returning. “I would never.”
I bumped his shoulder softly, surprised when he rocked back against me this time, the lightning bolt his touch sent through my veins thickening my blood like lava.
“But think, if you have the capacity to love something outside of this church—”
Bastien’s eyes cut to mine, intense with something darker than I was comfortable with. “Love?”
“It’s obvious you have the capacity.”
“I do, huh?” His eyes twinkled.
“I just think everyone has the capacity to do good in different, nontraditional ways.”
His fingertip skated over mine, the chill of the temperature no match for the warmth of his glow.
“I can assure you, little dove, I’m nothing if not untraditional.”
His words curled through me like a dragon, breathing fire and uncontrollably hungry for more.
I sucked on my bottom lip, a flashback of his thumb swirling under my panties playing like an illicit movie behind my eyelids.
“There’s that look again.” His littlest finger hooked through mine. I nearly singed a human-shaped hole into the snow and earth at my feet.
“Father Bastien! I was thinking—” Ms. Watson crunched over on fur-lined snow boots, red-lipsticked smile crossing her face and completely unaware she’d just interrupted the most intensely sensual moment of my young life “—my daughter-in-law makes these wonderful stuffed cabbage rolls for the bakery she works at. I could have her make a few batches for St. Michael’s Winter Festival, especially. What you and this lovely Tressa have been doing to freshen up the place, well…” She pressed a hand at Bastien’s forearm. “It’s just a miracle. Like breathing the Spirit back into things. This world needs more of the special kind of love the two of you have to give. Doing God’s work, you both are.” She winked, pressing something into the palm of Bastien’s hand and then tottering off down the sidewalk.
“She’s so sweet,” I said, watching her leave.
“With a heck of a sweet tooth. Passes me lemon drops after every Mass.”
“She loves you.”
“They love you too.”
I shook my head, catching Bastien’s gaze for a moment as clouds of our breath rose around us. I wasn’t lovable. Not really. Not in the way he was. I was the villain in this tale; I couldn’t go forgetting that. “I don’t have a place here, not really. Not in your life, not in theirs. I’m so thankful for St. Michael’s. It’s been my home more than anywhere else, but it’s not my forever home.”
Bastien nodded, hovering a hand at the small of my back and encouraging me to walk with him toward the front steps. The very ones I’d found myself on, downtrodden and desperate weeks ago. “That’s where we disagree.”
I tilted my head when we crossed into the vestibule. “Oh?”
“I believe God is everywhere. You just happen to keep finding him on the steps of St. Michael’s.”
I smiled softly, letting his words roll around in my head. “Maybe.”
“Hey.” Bastien’s hand was brushing against mine again, our bodies hovering between innocence and intimacy. “Do you always make a habit of doubting a holy man?”
I laughed then, laughed so hard tears burned at my eyelids, and a few parishioners from the yard looked up, smiled, and then waved at both of us.
“See?” he murmured at my side. “They love you.”
Heartache settled over my shoulders like storm clouds. If they realized we weren’t their saviors, but Bonnie and Clyde, engaging in every sinful temptation under their very eyes, well, would they burn us at the stake then?
“God’s in your heart, Tressa. Why you keep finding him on the steps of St. Michael’s is the better question.”
The pain of his words clawed at my throat.
I had to find a job and get some cash flowing into my bank account.
I couldn’t be here when this all fell apart.
