by Lacey Silks
With my eyes partially shut, I turned slowly in my seat, praying that it wouldn’t be him. And that somehow, somewhere up there in the heavens, someone was listening. When I turned around and saw the stranger, I looked up and mouthed thank you. He, of course, took it the wrong way.
“Well, it looks like tonight will be very interesting.”
“I meant something else.” I waved my hand. “And I’m not making the mistake of throwing up in those bathrooms again,” I said.
He laughed. The dimple in his left cheek made me pause again as I wondered whether I’d seen him in town before.
“I’m Brrr…ady.”
That voice, so soothing and familiar, sent delectable shivers down my spine. If there was anyone I could have ever pictured Father Cameron to be like if he weren’t a priest, it was this man sitting at my side.
“It’s nice to meet you, Brady. I’m Kate. You must be new in town.”
“Just passing through.”
“Many do. Welcome.”
“Thanks. Definitely feeling it today.” He winked. His dark skin glowed in the light from the candle-lit chandelier above. That chiseled face was so easy to look at. I just met Brady and felt like I could bare my soul to this man. Yeah, the hormones were definitely out of whack. He then leaned forward and smirked to the side, saying, “But I could definitely go for round number two.”
And the façade of this perfect man I’d imagined Father Cameron to be, vanished.
“That’s rude.”
“Okay, Michelle Tanner.”
“And that’s even ruder.”
“Ruder is not a word.”
“It is so.”
“Why don’t you have another shot? Maybe you’ll be able to spell it out.”
Was that sarcasm?
“I can spell very well, thank you very much. But I will have another shot because I’m so disgusted with the way you talk.”
Yet something drew me to him. Was it the danger? Was it the force with which he sat at the bar, so pure and manly? He could have been a caveman dragging me home by my hair, and I would have let him. As my imagination sailed on the first tequila wave, Brady leaned forward, and that smirk was back again. “The woman I fucked about an hour ago said the same thing before coming all over my dick.”
What the hell?
I swung my hand, ready to leave a mark on his cheek but he grabbed my sluggish wrist before I made contact.
“Take it easy, sweets. I’m just kidding.”
Somehow I doubted that. I yanked my hand out of his grip. I felt him devour me with his gaze, and while a moment ago that would have been totally hot, right now it felt creepy.
“Have we met before?” I asked.
“Why?”
“The way you’re looking at me. It’s weird.”
“Don’t take it the wrong way, but I’m actually wondering how much those hurt.” He pointed to my swollen red shoulders. “Besides, I would have remembered a beautiful woman.”
Well, he definitely was good at smoothing things over.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he added. “It’s been a rough few days. Actually, make that months. Today was the first one that promised something special, but I got disappointed.”
“Yikes. Lady troubles?”
“I wish it were that simple.”
He picked up one of the two tequilas from the set beside us and raised the glass. I grasped the second one with my fingers, and tapped my shot against his before throwing it back. The alcohol slid down my throat like water.
I dabbed the tissue I was holding over my mouth and took a sip of my water.
“Wanna talk about it? Just don’t cry on my shoulders, they hurt.”
He chuckled. “I’ll talk about it, but only if you drink.”
“That’s definitely not a problem tonight.” Tonight, I wanted to forget a handsome priest who had my mind spinning all day and all night, and Brady here looked like a good person to forget with. Would he be staying long in town? I looked around the room to see whether Lola had come. She was much better at this conversation-while-drunk thing than I was. “It looks like my friend bailed on me which makes you, Mr. Brady, my drinking partner tonight. I’m warning you, though, the last man I drank with did hold my hair while I puked in the bathroom.”
“You? But you look like such a good girl to me.”
“Perception is a two-way mirror.” I raised my glass, but he waited, a little more interested now.
“Bad girl?”
“Nah, I guess I’m somewhere in between.”
Brady finally raised his glass, and we tapped them together. “To middle ground,” he said.
“To middle ground,” I cheered.
After that one was down, for the first time that evening, I felt the room spin and decided to slow down with the shots. When I checked my phone, Lola had texted that she was sorry she couldn’t make it. On a normal evening, I would have walked out the door, gone to her salon and upstairs apartment, and dragged her ass back to the bar; but today, in Brady’s company, it didn’t seem urgent. Besides, he was helping me forget about Father Cameron, which was the whole point of the evening.
“So, tell me what happened to put you in such a sour mood. Where are you coming from?” I asked.
“New York. Long Island, to be exact.”
Thank goodness I had tequila. I hoped that it somewhat helped camouflage my surprise.
“And where are you headed?”
“Jesus, you sound like an investigator.” He leaned back, smirking.
Seriously? He got me after only two questions?
“My turn to question you. What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a dump like this?”
“Well, tonight, she’s drinking.”
“And evading questions.”
Yeah, I’d gotten pretty good at that. “And now she needs to use the ladies’ room because apparently not all the tequila gets absorbed in your veins.”
“Then one more before you leave.” He passed me another shot glass. At this rate, I’d need to call Lola because I wouldn’t know how to make it back to my house, which was diagonally across the street, right beside the church. All I had to do was turn the right way.
“You’re worried that you won’t be able to get home, right?”
I nodded.
“Well, I’m a pretty good guy, despite the asshole you probably assumed that I was, so I can walk you.”
“Going home with a stranger?”
“We’re not strangers, Kate. We already know each other.”
“Hold that thought, or I’ll pee in my panties.”
He smirked to the side and winked. “We can always get rid of those.”
I was already a few steps away from him, but couldn’t quite leave. This man was almost as intriguing as Father Cameron. Perhaps tonight would work out for the best after all. This was exactly who I needed. I needed a tall, dark, handsome man, preferably with blue eyes, to hold my attention. Mysterious and intriguing, just like Father Cameron.
“You’re really something else.” I shook my head.
“I get that a lot,” he called out as I walked away.
I quickly did my business and washed my hands. Brady was very easy to talk to, and I was beginning to like him more and more. Too bad he was only passing through, but maybe I could get his number? Perhaps after my ordeal was over and I went back home, I could call him up.
Maybe I should ask him to drop by again?
It must have been the alcohol talking in my head because I knew very well that I couldn’t afford to be in any kind of relationship.
So it’s a definite no to seeing him again.
Maybe a one-night stand? Perhaps a good dose of pounding would get rid of that never-ending throb between my legs? I combed my fingers through my shorter curls, double checked my tube top dress, and went back to the bar. Brady had two fresh shot glasses already waiting for us and passed me one before I even sat down.
“Wanna dance?” he asked.
“To new friendships,” he repeated, then threw back the shot at the same time that I did, and took my hand. He pulled me out onto the dance floor and headed straight for the jukebox.
“This is one of my favorites. I’m surprised they have the song.”
I didn’t get a chance to see which one he chose, but when the Daft Punk beat sounded, I was glad he knew something about music. “Instant Crush" was one of my favorite songs.
He held me by my hips, his body grinding against mine as the music swayed us back and forth. The comfort of his arms and hold was undeniable and welcome. When his mouth lowered to my burning shoulder and he kissed it gently, a trickle of excitement stirred inside of me. That, along with a strange feeling that I shouldn’t have been doing this.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s not you.”
“Sure it is. You’re dancing with me and thinking about someone else.”
“I can’t help it. It’s a complicated and an impossible situation, that’s all.”
He leaned back a fraction and looked into my eyes. Their captivating gaze was so familiar that I felt my mouth open, though he became more out of focus with each beat of the song.
“For what it’s worth, he’s one lucky guy.”
I wished Brady’s words were true. Unfortunately, the man who made my heart go pitter-patter loved someone else: God. I mean, he probably loved me too, in a way, because a priest like Father Cameron simply loved everyone; but what if I wanted to be the only one?
I gasped as the thought I usually reserved for night time, one of Father Cameron making himself comfortable between my legs, flashed through my mind. A sudden swell in my chest forced my gaze to Brady’s. “What do you do when someone you’re into isn’t attainable?” I asked, my head feeling a little wobbly.
“You mean, dead?”
“No, silly.” I gently tapped him on his chest. It was hard and warm, and so I left my hand there. “For example, let’s say the guy’s married.”
“Whoa, Kate, you definitely don’t want to go there.”
He turned me around in a circle in one swift move and brought me back to his body, catching me before I lost my balance.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. That was a bad example, and my head spun.
“You know, I could help you forget him. I have a room upstairs.”
Despite Brady’s handsome looks and irresistible charm, I wasn’t keen on sleeping where a million other people had been. And I wasn’t that easy.
“You’re such a douche, you know.” I tapped his chest again, this time to regain stability because my legs were beginning to feel like swimming pool noodles.
“I like you. You’re cool.”
“Brady? I’m not feeling very well.”
“I didn’t mean cool like cold, I meant like awesome.”
Was it just me, or was he sounding more drunk as well? Because he wasn’t making any sense.
Feeling my stomach swirl, I froze. “I’m gonna throw up.” I covered my mouth with my hand and rushed to the bathrooms at the back. It was like a déjà vu moment, except it wasn’t. I pushed the stall door open and bent in half. The tequila drained out of me for forever. And just when I thought I was done, there was some more — way more than the last time. Fortunately, Brady did come inside and held my hair as I embarrassed myself in front of another handsome man.
I would so not drink tequila ever again. This time, for sure.
I lifted my head slowly and immediately regretted bracing my burnt shoulder against the side of the stall.
“You make it a habit of throwing up and having men hold your hair for you?”
That voice! Oh, no! It wasn’t Brady’s. He couldn’t impersonate Father Cameron that well.
I backed out of the stall. Brady stood beside Father Cameron. Both men were looking at me with what seemed like thousands of questions at the same time. I recalled thinking earlier that an evening couldn’t get any worse than having a priest hold your hair while you puked. Well, it could, because it could happen twice. That image of Father Cameron and Brady staring at me was the last one I remembered because my knees buckled underneath me.
Chapter 7
Cameron
I sat in her bedroom, my legs crossed, patiently waiting for Kate to open her eyes. A freshly brewed cup of coffee and a glass of water waited on her side table, and I was hoping that the smell would help her wake up. I wanted her to do so with me still in the room, but I had to be at mass in less than an hour.
She shifted in her bed, pulling the covers toward her chest, which exposed her behind and the skimpy panties I’d seen her wearing last night. My dick swelled in an instant. Somehow, when I was helping her get to bed, Kate had decided that it was okay to remove her tube top in front of me because I was a priest, and according to Kate, I was immune to her womanly charms. Had I mentioned that she wasn’t wearing a bra either?
She stirred again, this time twisting her body my way while keeping the duvet over her bare chest. It didn’t stop me from hoping it would slip from her grip. Her nose wiggled and her eyes opened slightly, squinting when the sun’s rays struck her face.
When she looked up again and our gazes connected, shock jolted her body upright. The duvet slipped from her grip and she yanked it back to cover herself. But it was too late for me, and for the second time in the last twenty-four hours I glimpsed her perky breasts. I lowered the paper I was holding down to my lap, covering evidence of my thoughts.
Her mouth was partially open, the perfectly shaped ‘O’ of her lips looking more inviting with every passing second.
“Give it a moment. It will all come to you,” I said, waiting.
“Oh, no! What did I do?”
“Apparently tequila.”
She brought the cover over her head and slid down the bed, trying to disappear. When she pulled too much of the duvet, her feet wiggled at the bed’s end.
“Why am I naked?” A muffled voice sounded from underneath.
“You undressed yourself.”
She shot back up, this time holding tightly on to the cover and looked at me with her big gold eyes.
“In front of you?”
I nodded.
“I wanna die.”
I chuckled.
“How did I get home?”
“I carried you.”
“You?”
“Why? Did you want Brook to do it?”
Was that a hint of jealousy I heard trail on my voice? Had she noticed?
“Who’s Brook?” She looked around the room as if expecting my brother to be there, but he wasn’t.
“He’s gone. The man you know as Brady is Brook, my brother.”
“Why did he say his name was Brady?”
“Because Brook is… he’s careful with his identity because of his job.” That was partially true, but I couldn’t offer her a better explanation about my brother’s real job. She’d freak out.
I’d been thinking about how much to tell Kate about my brother since I laid her down in her bed last night. If I didn’t mention that Brook was related to me, she could have gone after him, and that was the last thing I wanted. I was hoping that perhaps as a friend-to-friend favor, she’d agree to never see my brother again. He wasn’t good for her. He wouldn’t understand her perky and innocently loving nature. He wanted a dangerous woman, and Kate was the last thing from dangerous. No, they definitely couldn’t see each other again.
Was I jealous? Of course. If it were any other woman, I would have given them a blessing and they could have lived happily ever after. But with her… I just couldn’t get her out of my mind. Since the moment I’d met Kate, my feelings became more complicated. It was her, all of her that made me question my faith and morals. I’d sinned with her on my mind so many times that I felt ashamed. But no matter how much I wanted her as a man, I knew I couldn’t touch her. It wouldn’t be fair to
her and her faith.
An affair with a priest. I shook my head.
It had definitely happened before, but I didn’t want Kate to be a statistic. I reached my hand out with the white pill and indicated with my gaze the glass of water at her side table. She took the pill and swallowed it with a few delicate sips of water.
Lucky glass to have touched her lips.
“Wait – I danced with you,” she said.
“No, not me. Brook,” I corrected her, a little hurt that she didn’t remember the difference.
“Brook,” she repeated, and paused as if looking for something in her mind that she’d missed. It was cute, and made her look vulnerable and innocent. I wondered what led her to drink when she was upset.
Kate suddenly sat up. Her disheveled state reminded me of a lost girl, and for the first time since meeting her, I realized how little I actually knew about her. Probably as little as she knew about me.
“You said he’s your brother?”
“Yes, Brook’s my younger brother. I told you about him, remember?”
She looked so cute when frazzled. “That’s why he looked so much like you.”
“You sure it wasn’t the tequila?” I teased.
“Argh, you don’t understand. This was so not me.”
I could argue with that, and I was pretty sure I’d win. It was her, trying to drown whatever problems Kate was carrying with her away.
“No, I mean it. I’m so sorry. I feel so embarrassed.”
“Kate, you had a bit too much to drink. That’s all.”
“I was all over your bother too.” She covered her mouth with her hand, regretting her words; and again, I felt a pinch of jealousy that it hadn’t been me there last night instead of my brother. Maybe it was better this way after all.
“I threw up and let another man hold my hair while I bent over the toilet, again.”
“Should I feel jealous? I thought that was my job.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“I’m teasing, Kate.”
There was that ‘O’ again, this time plumper and glistening since she pulled her tongue over her lips nearly ten seconds ago.
“I am never drinking again. I swear. Did you stay here all night?”