by Lacey Silks
Kate had to be wrong about the man she was looking for. Her mother had to have said John Pace, not Jack. She wanted to get in touch with her first love. What if Father John had the money and didn’t even know it? I bet he didn’t know Anna had a daughter, either.
Father John’s story was the saddest one I’d ever heard. It pained my heart to know that two people who seemed to have loved each other so much had been forced apart. Or maybe their love had guided them on the right path; after all, they’d been able to eliminate one of the strongest crime families in the country, which at one time had deep roots in this town.
“You’ve been at this parish your entire life, haven’t you, Father?” I asked.
“Yes, I have.”
“How is that even possible?”
“I think the church wanted Pace to get lost among the papers. Our little town hasn’t always had a good reputation. I’d like to believe that Pace and its residents were given a new chance, but I can’t say that it’s been easy. When I look across the street from the church at the Bistro, I still get the heebie-jeebies. The Cortez family ran that place almost to the ground; yet now it’s a pub anyone can enjoy. Peace replaced chaos.”
“So in a way, Pace has an invisible hero.”
“Not an invisible one. The hero is God. Whomever stole that money and hid it did so very well.”
“You know who it is, don’t you, Father?”
“I’m a priest, son. Sinners confess, they’re forgiven, and they repent. Eventually everyone in town ends up at the church, whether they’re happy or sad, lonely or overwhelmed, having issues at home or if they’re just looking for a listening ear. All rumors end up at the church too, especially on Sundays after mass when Mrs. Duarte adds a little bit of hazelnut liquor to the coffee.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Do you think the Cortez family will return?”
“Oh, if the rumors are true, I’m sure they have their eye set on Pace. But when will they show? I don’t know. Anytime, I guess, and the only thing we can do is remain a strong community. One way or another, God will punish them for all their sins.”
“Murder is surely a greater sin than theft.”
“It’s not up to me to judge. What makes the Cortez criminals so dangerous is that they simply don’t care.”
“Do you know where they live?”
Father John stopped and turned my way. “Son, if you’re looking for Mateo Cortez, his cousins or his children, then you should stop, because all you’ll find is a path to Hell.”
“What if he’s a soul that needs saving?”
“He’s been given the opportunity over and over again. Some souls are not meant to be saved. The devil makes sure that he’s got some workers on Earth as well.”
We finally reached the end of the path, by the river, turned around, and went back.
“How are you feeling, Father? Is the cold holding off?”
“It is. Thank goodness. So, do you think working with Kate will be a problem?”
Oh, I didn’t expect that.
“I may be an old man, but I see how close your friendship has become.”
Father John had a spark in his eyes and it reminded me so much of Kate’s that I took a step back. They were so alike and so different at the same time.
“She’s a very special young lady, I won’t lie, but I do hope that with prayer, we can remain good friends.”
Father John didn’t comment. Didn’t he believe me? Didn’t he have the faith that I had? I couldn’t pull Kate into my distressed world. Heck, I didn’t even have a real home. I didn’t have the stability this girl deserved, and most importantly, I couldn’t be the man she wanted me to be.
Chapter 12
Kate
I woke up in the same position in which I must have fallen asleep. The cabin was pitch black, and I realized that I’d missed dinner.
Why didn’t Lola wake me?
I turned on the light and looked in the mirror. Blanket creases ran down my cheek. When my gaze caught the empty water bottle on the table by the door, I felt that my bladder had reached its capacity.
I don’t want to pull a Lola.
Waddling like Mrs. Windsor and squeezing my thighs shut, I rushed out the door, across the field, and headed straight for the outhouse. Night was falling, and long shadows covered most of the campground. The sky was almost dark, but there was still enough light to see the way. There wouldn’t be in a couple of minutes.
“Don’t pee, don’t pee, don’t pee,” I chanted, my voice rising with each step. By the time I made it to the outhouse, a few drops had leaked into my panties. I pulled on the handle, but the door didn’t budge.
“Hello?” a familiar voice called out. “I’ll be a while.”
“Lola? You gotta finish fast. I can’t hold it in.”
“There’s no way I can finish. I’m doing number two.”
“Lola, finish!” I said between clenched teeth.
“Well, if you want me to cut my shit, and I’m not swearing because it’s a noun, and walk out with half of it sticking out, then okay.”
Just the image of her doing so forced my pelvic floor muscles to tighten again.
“No, no. I’ll wait.” I started doing a tiny dance with my feet, turning around to wonder why they hadn’t installed a second outhouse for women, for emergencies such as this one. Women always had longer lines to the bathrooms, and then I realized that this outhouse had been opened in the first place because of an emergency, as the main toilets were closed. I almost bolted for the one the boys used on the other side of the field, but then I remembered them bragging about pulling a prank on one of their classmates with a snake.
“You know, you could use the bushes,” Lola suggested with what sounded like a grunt and a strong push from her diaphragm.
“Bushes?”
“Yes, like spread your legs, squat down, and pee on the ground. In the bushes.”
Bushes, right.
That definitely sounded much better than peeing my pants, which I was sure I was going to do within the next twenty seconds.
I hopped across the grass covered with fresh dew toward the line of the forest. Once I crossed into the darkness, I didn’t go far. God only knew how many snakes were slithering among the long grass strands. I spread my legs apart, hunkered down to the ground, and released my muscles. The fizz overpowered the sound of the forest, and I closed my eyes, relieved.
Steam rose, and while the smell of piss wasn’t pleasant, it was much better than finding a snake in the outhouse. Once the last drops fell to the grass, I shook my bottom, stood, and pulled my panties up, only to be shocked. About fifty feet away, Father Cameron was standing in the window – and he was looking straight at me. Embarrassment flushed my body with heat and shame, and so I timidly waved toward him, but he didn’t move. Father Cameron just kept on staring out the window, into the darkness.
He can’t see me.
I sure as heck didn’t see anything when I ran into the woods to pee. As I adjusted my pants and took a step forward, I saw his fingers trail up to his neck, and I stopped, watching him.
He traced the neatly tucked fabric underneath his Adam’s apple and I felt my heart drum more quickly. He slowly removed the white clerical collar from around his neck and set it on a table beside him. Then, one after another, he proceeded with the buttons to unfasten his shirt.
I should leave.
Yet my legs didn’t move. I watched his fingers slowly dance along the line of his partially open shirt, releasing the buttons, one by one, each movement more lazy than the last. When the final one popped open and the shirt spread apart, I gasped, and then held my breath. A perfectly tanned body with dark sprinkles of hair on his chest and above his belt buckle appeared. Flashbacks of seeing him like this in my office when he first came to town, drowned out the sounds of the forest. Not expecting such a beautiful sight this evening, I felt delectable shivers run through my body. When his fingers reached for the belt and he uncla
sped the buckle, my thighs clenched. It seemed as if he were removing the leather strap in slow motion, so tantalizingly slow that I thought he was doing it on purpose.
Holy shit!
Once he grasped the top of his pants and pulled them down over his muscular thighs, it was too late for me and any morals I’d once had. Warmth swooshed around my throat. Before my desire traveled down between my thighs, something swirled inside my stomach, tingling and arousing, and once it reached the apex of my being, that core of my existence which used to be satisfied every few days, I was in full heat, throbbing.
Leave. I should leave. I panted.
But I couldn’t. I stood there and watched him carefully fold his pants onto the chair, followed by his shirt. At that moment, to me, he was no longer a priest at our parish. He was a man. A delicious man I would have given up my faith for, and that scared me – but not enough to close my eyes and walk away.
Toned, with a lean waist and broad shoulders, he moved around the room like he owned every square inch of it. The strong demeanor and confident steps were also a turn on. I imagined the way the floor would have shifted underneath his weight, and then my mind flew in a wild direction as I pictured my body trembling underneath that same weight. I wanted to feel him over me. I needed to feel the heat of that body on mine more than my next breath.
I shook my head and closed my eyes for a moment, trying to get rid of the image. It didn’t help. When I opened them, Father Cameron was reaching his arms up, stretching them, pulling all the muscles of his abs along. He then massaged his fingers into the right shoulder, where my fingers had been earlier in the day. I felt a twitch in my palms.
He was a sinner and he didn’t even know it, because that body had to be meant for a greater good. I already knew that Father Cameron had a good heart – after all, he worked for God – but the way his physique taunted me was nothing short of the sweetest temptation I’d ever seen. Was he my test? Would he determine whether I was a good human being? I hoped it wasn’t so, because I was afraid that I’d fail.
He turned away, his tight ass muscles contracting with each step he took. That body should have been abolished by the church. They shouldn’t have allowed hot men like him within the parish’s perimeter. As he walked to the far end of the wall and turned off the light, I exhaled with relief. For the first time since he began undressing, I realized where I was, and the timing couldn’t have been better.
“Kate?” I heard Lola call out. “Are you still peeing?”
I hopped a few steps away from Father Cameron’s cabin before calling out, “I’m done. I’m coming.”
“What took you so long?” she asked.
“Do you really want to discuss our bathroom habits and how hard it is to pee in the dark and not get any on your leg? Because you know, when we squat down, it doesn’t always go straight. Besides, my bladder wouldn’t have been that full if you’d woken me for dinner.”
“Okay, there, slow down, Babbles. Sorry about your bladder. You looked so cute when you were sleeping. Father Cameron said to let you rest.”
“He saw me sleeping?”
“Yeah, but you should have seen the way he was looking at you. I’m telling you, I’ve never seen a man look at a woman that way.”
“If you’re trying to play matchmaker for me again, with a priest, please stop.”
“Just sayin’ what I saw. That’s all.”
I checked my watch. “It’s almost time for lights out. We better get our butts to the cabin before we won’t be able to find it.”
I was afraid that given the opportunity, my legs would only be able to find one cabin tonight. I followed Lola across the field, our destination illuminated by a single bulb outside the girl’s cabin door, which I’d thankfully left on before leaving. The image of Father Cameron’s body remained in my mind’s eye. I made a note to pray over and over during the night, to be freed of the sudden desires that were flowing through my body. If I wanted a chance to fulfill what could be one of my mother’s last wishes, to see Jack, I couldn’t do anything to destroy my relationship with this parish.
After all, I’d just found out that Pace held my family roots, and that my mother had possibly known one of the Cortez brothers. She could have met the same man I was hiding from.
Father Cameron promised after the retreat that we’d continue our search through the documents in the attic. Watching Father Cameron sweat up there could never get old. Then he’d laugh and smile, offer a piece of advice or provide some wisdom. I had a feeling that organizing the attic in the tower would quickly become one of my favorite pastimes.
Apparently some of the boxes had been moved to the church from the Bistro after the Cortez family abandoned the town. Maybe there would be a clue there. If we knew where the family had moved to, we could keep an eye out. We could find them before they found us. After all, it was best to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. One thing was certain: Father Cameron was more than hot. He was exciting and mysterious at the same time, and made my body react in ways it shouldn’t. My mind was no longer the only one sinning when I thought about him because my body seemed to be entering a personalized highway to hell, one without any speed limits. I lowered my head in shame. I would never, ever invade his privacy again the way I had tonight.
Boy, was I ever wrong.
Chapter 13
Cameron
I didn’t think this trip could be more boring than listening to a presidential debate, yet it was, until I felt Kate’s fingers on my shoulder. That little massage she pulled on me yesterday gave me a hard on, and if it weren’t for my shirt being out, well, let’s just say that had Kate seen my wood, the moment would have been much more uncomfortable. Since the day she slipped on the floor and fell into my arms, I’d avoided any physical contact. No touching. No hand shakes or hugs. Any sort of connection could push me over the edge.
The energy that had buzzed between us in her cabin was excruciatingly painful. My muscles tensed, my palms perspired, and my dick hardened the moment she touched me. That afternoon, I went back to her cabin to apologize for my behavior, but when I followed Lola into their cabin and saw Kate sleeping there, all that conviction to confirm that we were only friends was gone. My feelings for this woman were getting out of control.
Poof!
I would have to live with the pain and struggle, because I knew I couldn’t have her. My conversation with Father John hadn’t helped. I still wondered how he managed to make sense of an affair with a woman, when it still didn’t make any sense to me. I was stronger than he was. I might have tested my own faith, but I wouldn’t do anything to compromise hers. And then I saw Kate watching me undress last night… again, Poof to any conviction I thought I had.
Protected by the shadows of the night, she had been standing in the forest beyond the cabin, unaware of the thin ribbon of moonlight illuminating the top of her head. And I loved every minute of it.
Through the first few moments of doubt, I wondered whether I should continue teasing her. I debated turning off the light and cutting off the sin for too long. I shouldn’t have let her watch me, but the thought of having her admire me that way was a temptation forged in the deepest pits of hell, coated with a sweet lure of her scent. I swear I could smell her blocks away. The aroma held layers of desire I had no control over. I remembered wondering about the level of her own excitement. Were her nipples as hard as that day the water valve broke in her kitchen? Were her panties full of her thick sweetness?
As I lay in my bed last night, I wondered whether all other men who had looked upon her had sinned as much as I had. That thought only persuaded my hand to slide underneath the covers so I could relieve that desire again. If I didn’t, I was afraid all Kate had to do was breathe to turn me on. I couldn’t give her any hope. Anything more than a professional relationship with Kate, and a little bit of friendship, could have ruined us both emotionally and spiritually.
Today was a new day.
Today I would keep
my priorities straight, and so when I walked into the common dining area, I set my breakfast on the table across from Kate.
Last night didn’t happen. I didn’t see her watching me undress.
“Good morning, Kate.”
Her head flew up. A spark of a surprise flashed in her eyes as she slowly swallowed her scrambled eggs.
“Good morning, Father.”
“Did you sleep well last night?” I asked, digging my fork into my breakfast sausage. When I looked up, Kate’s gaze was on my food as I cut through the meat. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Ahm, yes. A little restless, I guess. I always get that way when I sleep in a different bed.”
“Does that happen often?” I asked, my new resolve when I sat down thirty seconds ago disappearing.
“What?”
“Sleeping in a different bed?”
She gave me a quizzical look, her right brow lifting, but decided to answer anyway. “Well, no. It doesn’t.”
“Good. I used to switch beds with my brothers. It can get tiring.”
“What else did you do with your brothers?”
Was she trying to shift the conversation to a safer subject on purpose? And why would I want to encourage her not to? I was beginning to think that I had completely lost my mind around this woman.
“Well, if they’d been out here with me as teenage boys, we wouldn’t have obeyed the curfew, and we’d have snuck around behind the cabins hoping to see the girls undress.”
Kate stilled and I continued. “Then, we would have had to apply ointment on our poison ivy rashes all over our legs.”
When I saw Kate reach underneath the table and scratch the side of her leg, I almost chuckled. What the hell was I trying to do? Tell her that I knew about her little escapade?
“Do you miss them?” she asked, throwing me off course.