“I’m going to miss Mass this weekend,” I say, gesturing to the time.
“How did you manage that?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t go yesterday because I figured I’d make it back to Camellia before Sunday evening Mass. I guess I lost track of time, though.”
“Oh,” she says softly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’ve been slipping lately, in more ways than one,” I reply, trying to curb my frustration. Regardless of our bickering a moment ago, I can’t risk letting her think she shares any of the blame for my carelessness.
She clears her throat. “Just look for a church on the way home. I mean, if it’s so important to you.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out …” I glance her way as I trail off.
She shrugs. “It’s only, what, an hour?”
The tightness in my stomach begins to dissipate. “Don’t your parents live around here? I could drop you off while I’m?—”
“No, you’d have to backtrack. It’s not worth the trouble,” she cuts me off to say, and I make a mental note tobring it up later.
“Are you sure?” I ask and watch her expression carefully.
“It’s not a big deal, Rowan. I’ll just scroll on my phone while I wait in the car.”
“Thanks,” I say with a nod, but I’m already formulating a plan in my mind.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
claire
“Actually,mind leaving the truck running while you’re inside?” I ask when Rowan cuts off the engine.
“You’re not coming in with me?” he gestures toward the church in front of us, and I can tell he’s trying to pull one over on me by the way the corner of his mouth threatens to lift.
“Nice try,” I tell him and hold out my palm, but he dangles the keys over my hand.
“Might have to crank it a few times to get the AC to stay on,” he says, his dimples becoming more pronounced by the second. “Truck’s getting old, you know.”
“Are you really telling lies in the church parking lot now?”
“Of course not,” he replies with exaggerated sincerity. “It’s just that the air conditioner’s been giving me trouble. I meant to get it fixed, but we’ve had such an abnormally cold winter that I haven’t needed it lately.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t go in there, especially not dressed like this,” I protest, gesturing over my dirty overalls.
“Sure you can,” he says, reaching over to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, and I hold my breath while his fingers graze the side of my neck. “You look … beautiful. You always look beautiful.”
I frown. “Lyingandflirting? You’re going to burst into flames the second you walk inside.”
He bites his lip and stifles a smile. “Flirting isn’t inherently sinful. And that’s what the Holy Water is for, anyway, to wash away my venial sins.”
“Which is exactly why I’m not going inside. I wouldn’t have any idea what to do, and I’m going to look like a total idiot alongside all of the other perfect little Catholic girls with their pretty dresses and their modesty veils or whatever.”
“You do realize you just described my sister, don’t you?” he replies, and I growl in frustration, because he’s right. Daisy is one of those perfect little Catholic girls, and she’s still the best person I know, which makes me an ass right now.
“Seriously, though, we both know you’ve been to a Catholic church before and that you’re well aware there will be plenty of women who won’t be wearing dresses and veils,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement. “And you don’t even have to participate, but I’d be more than happy to show you what to do. In fact, it might even be the highlight of my life.”
I pout. “Why do you want me to go with you so badly? You realize there won’t be some miraculous conversion the minute I step inside, Holy Water or not.”
“Maybe I just like having you around. And, sure, a miraculous conversion is unlikely, but I wouldn’t rule it out completely,” he muses and laughs when I let my head fall back with another groan.
