More often than a priest should linger on a parishioner.
I didn’t know Bastien in any other context outside of the four walls of this holy brick building.
But that didn’t stop me from fantasizing.
Nothing could stop me from that.
I swallowed, Bastien’s eyes finally releasing their grip on mine, a violent rush of air filling my lungs as I felt freed from his invisible bond.
Surely, he knew the hold he had? I had half a mind to think it was that very sense of warm charisma that landed him in this vocation.
I wondered if he’d always been so aloof, and maybe it was his very unattainable nature that fueled my desire.
Or worse, maybe it was simply that he listened.
I’d never been around a man long enough to say for sure, but I suspected they didn’t all have the compassionate shoulder Father Bastien did.
Maybe I’d fallen in love with his kindness.
Maybe it was as simple and as sad as that.
Within minutes, the parishioners were shifting out the front doors, pausing for long moments to shake the hand of the man who guided them. Lucy and I filed along, chatting quietly as I did my best to keep my mind off this man. It was impossible not to be drawn to him, but missing him…that was another form of torture entirely because I had no right to him at all.
I thought of my mother, so many years spent working double shifts and then collapsing on the couch, lonely, bottle in hand and chip on her shoulder. Her utter lack of love for so many years acted as a slow undoing. I vowed I would never live so isolated. Maybe star-crossed love was out of reach, but friends, family, neighbors, anything was better than sitting alone night after night.
“Thank you for coming, Lucy.” Bastien’s thick baritone jerked me into the present. Bastien cast his eyes over her shoulder and met mine with a pleasant smile.
I nodded, forcing a brave smile while my stomach churned with anxiety, anticipation, arousal—a mixture of all three.
“I hope so too, Father.” Lucy smiled.
“And, Tressa, would it be too much to ask if I keep you a little late this morning to discuss some things relevant to the day care?” Bastien moved closer, warm hand hovering at my back as he turned, guiding me back through the main doors of the church.
Back into his realm.
“Is Lucy getting along okay? What’s your professional assessment?” he asked as soon as we were out of earshot of anyone else.
“Professional assessment?” I laughed him off.
“Well, you’ve taken more counseling classes than I have.”
“I’m dozens of classes away from anything like that. But what’s my feeling? I think she’s better than she was. I think stability was the best thing we could have offered her.”
“You offered her that.”
I nodded, thinking about the morning after she’d arrived and I’d asked her, all but insisted, really, that she stay with me in the small, two-bedroom cottage next to the rectory. “I gave her a key last night. She’s so quiet, it’s almost unnerving.”
“She mentioned siblings at one point.” I remembered the very conversation, a tense look crossing her face when the word family came up at all.
“I don’t think she’s in touch with anyone, or even wants to be.”
“I shudder to think of the burden some of God’s children are asked to carry.”
I frowned, a twinge of righteous indignation pulsing through me. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” Bastien paused, large body hovering over me, one foot resting on the step of the chancel. I did the first thing I thought to do and collapsed under the oppressive heat of his presence, my ass finding the cool wooden chair he’d been sitting in just minutes ago.
I vaguely thought this was probably a holy chair, one that my very unholy ass probably shouldn’t be desecrating, but locked in his gaze as I was, things like ambulatory movement paled in comparison.
