“Ask me in five minutes when some old fart walks through that door that knew my daddy,” he said, shaking his head.
“Excuse me,” a man beside me said, leaning against the counter. “Did Dolly say you’re the sheriff?”
I gave him a good once over. He was dressed well, though not in anything fancy. His black slacks and cream button up were pressed, although he’d opted for brown leather suspenders instead of a belt. And for some strange reason, he was wearing a tie. But it was the messy blonde hair, innocent blue eyes, and that giant smile that struck me the most.
This guy fuckingoozedpositivity. Gross.
“Yeah,” Marcus replied, holding out a hand. “Sheriff Marcus Webb.”
“Hi there,” the stranger replied enthusiastically, shaking his hand. “I’m Michael Johnson, but you can just call me Pastor Mike.”
That explained the positive attitude.
“Oh! You’re the new pastor,” Marcus nodded. “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna be here. Pastor Tom retired almost two months ago, and people were startin’ to wonder if we’d ever get another.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Pastor Mike chuckled, running his hand through his hair nervously. “They had another guy lined up, but he backed out at the last minute. So, I took the job!” He laughed again. “God works in mysterious ways!”
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. And goddammit if he didn’t notice.
“Hi,” he said, holding out his hand. “Pastor Mike.”
“Xavier,” I replied, shaking his hand reluctantly.
“Not the church type?”
“Nope.”
“That’s okay,” he said, his smile never wavering. “It takes all types to make this world work. Besides, I firmly believe God made everyone exactly the way they were supposed to be. It’s not my place to be preachy.”
“A preacher that doesn’t preach?” I grinned. “Isn’t that your job?”
Pastor Mike let out a genuine laugh, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Well, I prefer to think of my job as listening more than preaching. God gave us two ears and one mouth for a reason, right?” He leaned against the counter, completely at ease. “But I do love a good Sunday sermon. Just try to keep them short. Nobody wants to sit through an hour-long lecture when there’s lunch waiting.”
I found myself warming to him despite my general distaste for religious types. There was something disarming about his openness, his complete lack of judgment. Marcus must have felt it too, because I felt him relax beside me.
“Where are you from, Pastor?” Marcus asked, his sheriff instincts probably cataloging every detail about this newcomer.
“Originally? California. But I’ve been bouncing around different parishes for the last few years. Texas is a first for me though.” He gestured around the diner with genuine enthusiasm. “I have to say, everyone here has been incredibly welcoming. Dolly’s been feeding me non-stop since I arrived yesterday.”
“That sounds like Dolly,” I said, catching her eye across the counter. She was watching our interaction with interest, probably pleased that we were being friendly to the new pastor.
“So, what brings you boys out today?” Pastor Mike asked, his tone conversational rather than nosy. “Just lunch, or is there some official sheriff business happening?”
Marcus’s hand tightened slightly on mine under the counter, and I felt that familiar tension creep back into his shoulders. This was it. The moment where we’d have to decide how to present ourselves. As friends? As something more?
I made the decision for both of us.
“Just lunch,” I said easily. “We’re planning to go over some last-minute wedding details afterward. I’m an event planner and my best friend is getting married tomorrow.”
“Oh, how wonderful!” Pastor Mike’s face lit up even more, if that was possible. “Are they getting married at the church?”
“Actually, no,” I replied. “It’s going to be at Turner Ranch. Outdoor ceremony, reception in a tent. Very rustic and romantic.”
“That sounds beautiful. I’d love to see it if you don’t mind an extra guest.” He paused, then added with a knowing smile, “I promise I won’t try to convert anyone. Just appreciate good love when I see it.”
Something about the way he said that last part made me glance at him more carefully. His eyes flicked briefly between Marcus and I, but that smile never wavered. Not in judgment, not in discomfort. It was just... acceptance.
“You’re welcome to come,” Marcus said, and I heard the slight surprise in his voice. “Lucas and Beau would probably appreciate having the new pastor there.”
