His smile faltered. “You know the community talks. People are... concerned. It isn’t too late to—”
“Live by faith and not reputation?” I cut him off. “I’m already doing that, Pastor. But I appreciate your concern. Have a great day.”
Without waiting for his response, I stepped into the sunlight. Kandi followed, carrying Zoe, who had fallen asleep against her shoulder.
“The nerve,” Kandi muttered once we were safely out of earshot. “Man talked about love throughout the sermon, then tries to shame you in the next breath.”
“It’s fine,” I said, following her toward her car. I fumbled in my purse for my water bottle.
Kandi was struggling to get the baby into the car seat without waking her when a black SUV pulled into the empty space beside us. The tinted window rolled down to reveal Aris’s handsome face in the back seat.
“Kandi,” he said with a polite nod. “Do you need help?”
“Hi, Dee’s future husband,” Kandi’s tone was as sweet as honey, and I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay. She’s buckled in now.”
Markos appeared at my elbow and opened the rear door for me.
Kandi gave me a quick hug. “Call me later.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She stepped back, closing her rear door before sliding into the driver’s seat.
I settled into the leather seat beside Aris, watching as Kandi pulled out of the parking space.
“How was it?” he asked.
“Amusing. Pastor Williams has strong opinions about my life choices.”
“What did he say to you?”
I scooted closer to him as Markos pulled away from the church. “His sermon was something about desire versus love, straying sheep and lions’ dens.” I rolled my eyes. “Very dramatic. Very aimed at the pregnant woman in the third row who previously declined being his first lady.”
“So this pastor, he had aspirations beyond spiritual guidance, yes,” he said, his accent thickening as it often did when something displeased him. “And now he uses his pulpit to shame you for rejecting him?”
Every man I’d ever known took. Took my time, took my body, took decisions out of my hands and called it love.
Aris was no different, except he was. When I drew a line, the man actually stopped at it.
He listened to me. Heard me. This terrified me more than the demanding ever had.
“Can we not waste our Valentine’s Day talking about a man whose feelings I don’t care about?” I kissed his neck. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going. Should I be worried? Because the last time you whisked me away, I ended up pregnant.”
His hand slid to my stomach, possessively. “I promise the only thing you will end up with, it is satisfaction.” He caught my chin, tilting my face toward his. “And no, I am not telling you.”
I didn’t pull away from his touch. My body never could when it came to him.
“Fine. But if I end up somewhere without stretchy pants and antacids, we’re going to have problems.”
“Though I suspect you will forgive me, yes.” His mouth latched onto mine, and heat bloomed instant and fierce.
I parted my lips, and he took the invitation, deepening the kiss until I forgot about church, about Pastor Williams, about everything except the taste of him.
He made a rough sound low in his chest and shifted me in the seat until I was nearly in his lap despite my belly.
When we finally broke apart, I was breathless. His lips hovered just above mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.
“You are still worried about where we are going?” His voice was rough.
