Bad Coach (An Alpha Male Bad Boy Romance) (Forbidden Romance)

by Claire Adams

  I slept in a little bit on Sunday morning since it turned out to be my only day off. Mass didn’t begin until eleven, so I got up around eight-thirty and had my coffee on the little balcony of my new apartment. It was my favorite part of my new home, and the weather was perfect.

  There are two things that renew me when I’m feeling stressed out or overwhelmed. One of them is church and the other is nature. I love to be outside, and since I hadn't had a lot of time to go for my evening walks or just explore the new city, the balcony was a Godsend.

  After I finished my coffee and bagel, I went inside and soaked for a bit in the tub. By the time I pulled on my dress and tights and fixed my long hair in a twisty side ponytail for church, I felt good.

  I love the church building here. It’s all old stone and stained glass; just walking inside gives me a sense of peace. The air is tinctured with the scent of incense and candles. I imagined that I could smell the musty prayer books…or maybe I really could. As I dipped my fingers into the holy water and made the sign of the cross, I breathed it in and let it fill me with grace.

  I made my way down the brightly-lit passage with the polished wood floors and colorfully-painted walls that ran along the east-end of the church. Back there, I passed the little vestry and next to it a small kitchen where the Fathers and the Sisters often prepared and ate their meals.

  As I pushed through the heavy oak doors of the inner sanctum, I could hear the singing of the choir as it echoed off of the masonry and wafted up into the rafters. I found a pew near the front and lost myself in the sweet song that reminded me of the innocence of youth; it soothed my spirit and allowed me to imagine a beautiful life stretched out before me.

  When the choir finished, the lector came out. I’d only been to that church twice since I had moved there, but the Father had already announced his exit and said good-bye. The lector was there to announce and introduce the new parish priest. I knew a lot of parishioners got nervous when their old priest left them for a new post. I was so new there that it didn’t really matter to me.

  They were especially anxious because their old priest of fifteen years had just up and vanished. It had been months and still no one knew where he’d gone. Father Byrnes had done a great job of filling in, though, and the congregation had grown close with and accustomed to him. I didn’t know him well enough to form an opinion. The only thing I was interested in was finally seeing the new priest’s face so that I could convince myself once and for all that he wasn’t the man I slept with.

  “Welcome, everyone. It’s so nice to see that we have a full house today. I hope you all had a chance to see Father Byrne off and thank him for visiting here with us. He did an amazing job and we’ll miss him.

  “But, when God closes one chapter of our books, he opens another. We have the honor now of having our very own priest that we can hopefully hang onto for a long time: Father Jace. He was here last week and he’s been hearing confessions, but for those of you who haven’t had a chance to be here, I’d like to re-introduce Father Jace O’Doyle.

  “He’ll be walking in through the back there today where you can all see him. Feel free to stand now and welcome him one more time for all of you who didn’t make it last week.”

  I stood up along with everyone else. The church was so full that for several minutes, I couldn’t see over the top of other heads to get a glimpse. I held my breath, just knowing in my heart that it couldn’t possibly be him, but oh my! Was I ever wrong!

  For the first time in my life, a cuss word escaped my mouth in church as the man who I’d had a drunken one-night stand with passed by my pew dressed in his black cassock and white collar. I’ve committed a mortal sin.

  I could feel the sweat beginning to form itself under my arms and around my neck. My face was on fire. My stomach was churning. I didn't know what to do. Should I leave?

  I was in such a panic mode that I didn’t realize at first that everyone was sitting now and I was still standing up. I sat down quickly and knew that if I got up and left now, it would draw more attention to me than if I just stuck it out. I sunk down in the pew and cursed the fact that I picked a seat so close to the altar. I usually had nothing to hide…but oh, I certainly did now—so much.

  Maybe I should still leave. Maybe I should find another church and confess to another priest what I’ve done. I could feel the bile rising up in the back of my throat. It burned hot like acid, and I was aching to at least get up and rid my stomach of its contents. I couldn't risk it, though. Any motion might have caused me to lose control and that would make a scene. If I made a scene…then what?

  I glanced around me. There were a lot of people there. Maybe he wouldn't notice me; he’d been speaking for close to ten minutes already and I hadn't processed a word that he had said. How can he stand up there and recite mass, knowing what he’s done? If I could ask him one question, that would be it.

  I wondered what he would say, or do, if I stayed after Mass and tried to talk to him. He was obviously worried that I was going to tell someone. His question in the confessional convinced me of that. Could I bring myself to face him, though?

  In my defense, he wasn’t wearing his collar when I met him in the bar. I had no idea that he was a priest. But he knew…so did that make his sin greater? Of course, it does. He took vows. He not only broke that sacrament, but he allowed me to commit a grievous sin without any warning. I wasnot sure what God was thinking about it, but in my head, “Father” Jace had a lot more to answer for than I did.

  I shuddered at the thought of how he’d just thrown away his purity that night and wondered if he’d done it before. He sure seemed to know what he was doing.

  I took a chance and glanced up towards the altar. He was blessing the Eucharist and not looking at me. Will the body and blood of Christ still be as holy after being blessed by a fallen priest?

  I stared at his handsome face and wondered, if he was so willing to throw away his relationship with God by having illicit, drunken sex, what else might he be willing to do? What might he be willing to do in order to keep it a secret? I shivered again and then immediately chastised myself for those unpure thoughts. Sex is a far stretch from murder.

  I stuck out the mass until it was time to receive the Eucharist. The church was a large one so there were three lines. Father Jace was giving his out on the far right. I chose the line on the far left. After I received my communion, I stepped to the side, crossed myself and knelt quickly with a word of thanks to God our Savior; then, I slipped out the side door. I could finally breathe.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  JACE

  I stood in the greeting line after mass was over and said hello to the people I’d already met and met quite a few people that I hadn’t seen before. I finished talking with a young couple that had just moved to the area and were looking to start a Bible study when I was surprised to see a familiar face.

  “Hi, Jace.” Lily had been my girlfriend right out of high school for two years. She was as beautiful as ever. She had long, wild, dark hair and light blue eyes that seemed to look right through you sometimes. I had been in love with her, desperately so, once upon a time.

  I took her hand and smiled back. “Lily, it’s so good to see you. Do you live here now?”

  “Yes, I work here in town. I’d heard that you became a priest. Congratulations. I hope you’re happy.” I was. I was filled with more joy than I ever knew…right up until Grandmother died and it all fell apart. I forced a brighter smile and said,

  “I’m very happy, Lily. Thank you. How about you? Are you married? Any children?” She’d always wanted a big family. We talked about getting married, but we hadn’t made it official yet before she broke up with me. I wouldn’t have sex with her. I wanted to wait, and I was already considering the priesthood…or at the very least, becoming a Eucharistic minister.

  She had told me she needed passion in her life. We went our separate ways, and I went on to the seminary. She was my last relationship before I became a pri
est and entered my relationship with God. The irony is that if I’d slept with her back then, it would have been much less of a sin than the one I’d committed a couple of weeks ago.

  “I’m not married. I was engaged for a few years, but it didn’t work out. I’d love to have coffee sometime and catch up if you’re able?”

  “I’d like that,” I told her honestly. It would be nice to share an afternoon talking with an old friend.

  “Great,” she said, taking out a little card that had the name of a hair salon on it with Lily’s name underneath. “My cell number is on that. Give me a call when you have some time.”

  “I will, Lily. It was so nice to see you.”

  “You, too,” she said, flashing that pretty dimple again.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  DAPHNE

  Monday morning, I got a call from the restaurant. It was my boss Ken. “Hey, Daphne, I’m sorry to do this to you, but there was a mix up on the schedule and we’re a little overstaffed. Do you mind having the day off since you’re scheduled for the rest of the week?”

  “No, of course not,” I told him. I was a little disappointed because I did need the money—and I was already dressed and ready to go—but I could readily think of at least one thing I needed to do. “Thanks for letting me know before I got there. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Daphne.” I liked Ken. I was learning a lot from him, and although I hoped someday to go back to school and become a nurse, it’s all good life experience.

  After I hung up, I changed out of my work clothes and slipped on a floor-length skirt and a white blouse. I left my hair in the braid I’d put it in for work and headed down to the church. I had to get it over with or it would ruin the relationship I had with God. Being a good Catholic was what got me through so many bad times in my life. I was in no way ready to lose that.

  Confession was in full swing when I got there. I waited on my knees in front of the altar until everyone else had gone before me. When there was no one else left, I slipped into the confession box and said, “Bless me, Father, but I’m not here to confess any sins. I’m here to speak to you about what we did…the sin we committed together. I’m the woman you had sex with. My name is Daphne and now, I know that yours is Jace. Father Jace.”

  It was deathly quiet for what seemed like a long time. At first, I thought he wasn’t going to say anything to me, at all. Then when he did, I found myself wishing that he hadn’t. “I slept with you? Are you crazy? I’m a priest.” He sounded righteously indignant, and it really pissed me off.

  “How dare you? You broke your vows, and I have agonized over this for nearly two weeks. You sat in there last week and let me confess to you, and you didn’t have the courage to admit your part in it. You were only concerned with whether or not I told anyone. Now you call me crazy? What kind of a priest are you, anyways?”

  I could hear him breathing heavily, but he still wasn’t saying anything so I said, “Maybe you were too drunk to remember clearly. You were slurring your speech a lot in that seedy little bar where we met. I must say that meeting a priest in a bar was not something I would have ever expected.

  “I was pretty drunk, too, but I remember that night vividly. I remember going back to your apartment and making love to you in your bed. I remember waking up the next morning and feeling horrified that I’d done something so horrible as to have sex outside of wedlock. I’d never done that before, you know.

  “Now, I not only have to live with that, but thanks to you, I have to live with the fact that I had sex with a priest. If you don’t think we need to talk about that, that’s okay. I’ll find someone in the church who is willing to talk to me.”

  I stood up to go and heard him say, “Wait! I’m sorry. You’re right. You shouldn’t have to go to someone else. If you’re still willing to talk to me, just slip me an address or something where I can meet you before you go.”

  I didn't know if the “I’m sorry” was for sleeping with me, lying to me, or being angry with me—or if he believed it would encompass it all. I wasn’t accepting his apologies at that point, but I would give him the chance to talk. Mostly because I was so curious as to why he did what he did.

  I had already written down my address and phone number in the hopes that he would agree to talk privately. I slipped it through the slot on his side and left without saying anything further.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JACE

  I sat there for a long time after Daphne left, pondering my own demise. It was bad enough that I had had sex. Not much was going to trump that, unless someday I decided to commit murder. Dear God, forgive me for that thought. I was kidding, and it was completely inappropriate. She’s right. What kind of priest am I?

  I just couldn’t believe that she was part of my church. Of all of the women I could have messed up with, I had to choose one that was an active part of the church…and it sounded like she’d been a virgin. How the hell did I not notice that?

  Sorry, Lord; I didn’t mean to sit in the confessional and cuss. I didn’t mean to get drunk, and I didn’t mean to have sex. I didn’t mean to yell at the beautiful young woman that I’d duped into giving her virginity to a priest.

  God, it just gets worse and worse. I had to talk to someone. I’d blurted it all out and tried to get some kind of sympathy from my brothers that day we had lunch, or at the very least, words of wisdom.

  Once they recovered from the shock, Ryan thought it was back slapping and sordid details time. When he found out I wasn’t bragging, he lost interest. Max just kept looking at me with that serious big brother look he gets on his face when he’s worried. I’d felt sick as soon as I said it out loud and quickly found an excuse to leave.

  I knew who I needed to talk to. The one person who would always forgive me, but never let me get away with anything: Grandma. I spent another hour listening to confessions and then left and drove into Boston. When I got to Grandma’s gravesite, I saw that she had fresh flowers all over it. It looked like Rye and Max had been there recently, too.

  “Hey, Grandma. I hope that you’re dancing happily in the Promised Land. I know if anyone deserved to go to Heaven, it’s you. I sure do miss you, though. I miss you so much that my chest hurts all the time. I don’t know what to do without you.

  “I screwed up so badly. It’s so bad that I don’t know how to fix it, or if there is any way to fix it. I got drunk and I had sex…” I shuddered. It was the first time I’d heard myself say it out loud.

  “I broke my vows and the sacraments, and not only do I have my Lord to answer to…but the young lady I had sex with, as well. I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know how to explain to her that priests are human and have the same urges as other humans…but we’re not supposed to act on them.

  “Now that I have, is that it for me? I can still remember how this woman smelled and the way her skin felt so soft. Her hair was silky, and God help me, but I loved the feel of it in my face. Please help me, Grandmother. Please tell me what to do. I’m so lost.”

  I sat there for a while with tears rolling down my face I was waiting for an answer that wasn’t forthcoming. Finally, I told my grandmother how much I loved her once more and said goodbye.

  With trepidation in my soul, I drove back to Lexington and towards the address Daphne left me. It was time to come face to face with the consequences of my bad decisions.

  I hated to admit it, but the closer I get to being alone with her, the more I realize that the hardest part was going to be not being able to touch her again. She accused me of being too drunk to remember, but the truth is that the memory of touching her was as fresh in my mind as if it only just happened…and my fingers ached to touch her again.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  DAPHNE

  I was a nervous wreck all day, but as soon as I heard the knock on my apartment door, I was tempted to run and jump right off the balcony. I was the one who wanted to talk…or I suppose needed was more accurate. I was hoping that by doing this
, I could get him out of my system once and for all and then I could work on improving my relationship with God.

  I opened the door and he stood there in front of me in full priest regalia. If I hadn’t already been intimidated and scared to death, I was then. I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what he was going for, or maybe if he thought I’d go easier on him because of it. The only reason I was so angry with him was because he was a priest, so it wasn’t helping either of our causes for him to flaunt it. He smiled, and God help me if I didn’t feel it all the way to my core.

  “Hello, Daphne.”

  I stepped back and said, “Father Jace.” I emphasized the “Father” in case he was to forget again.

  I saw him give a quick look around as he walked inside my apartment. It was as if he were checking to see if anyone else was there, like maybe the paparazzi were going to jump out from behind the curtains. It would serve him right if they did.

  “Have a seat,” I said. “So what’s up with the garb? Did you think I’d go easier on you if you actually looked like a priest?”

  He looked down at his clothes and then with a sad smile, he said, “No. I came straight from confession. Plus, if anyone asked any questions, I wanted to have a legitimate reason for being here. I’m officially welcoming a new parishioner to our flock.”

  I rolled my eyes. He seemed to be entirely in self-preservation mode and it was ticking me off. What about me? “So,” I said, taking the seat next to him—I only had one small sofa, so it was either that or stand. “Do you do this a lot?”

  His face colored and he said, “No, never before, actually. I was struggling with some personal issues that led to some doubts about my faith. I went to the bar that night to be out in my community and clear my head. I was hoping to remind myself how much I love what I do and bring myself back to my faith.”