by Amy Lamont
“Mmmhmm.” Helen’s noncommittal sound along with the way her gaze darted between the other two made it clear she knew something more was going on here. “Why don’t you two step into Father Michael’s office for your discussion.”
Before Faith could blink, Helen shooed them into his office, a small room with a wide desk, a couple of overstuffed chairs and lots of books lining the walls.
He moved to stand behind his desk, putting a barrier between them. “What can I do for you?”
Countless ideas flooded her mind at the question, many of them completely inappropriate for inside the church walls. But now that she was face-to-face with him, she couldn’t formulate the words to move things forward.
She bit her lip. “First, I wanted to apologize. I know you heard what I said to Maddie the other night.”
Michael held up a hand, his face blank. “No worries. Remember, I told you, I know not many women see a priest and think of romance.”
“You’re crazy.” She had no control over the words she blurted.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re out of your mind if you think half the women in your congregation aren’t having all sorts of naughty Father Mike fantasies about you.”
A startled laugh escaped him.
Yes! If he could open up enough to laugh, maybe he could open up enough to hear her and forgive her.
“Look,” she told him, “I’m not apologizing because you heard what I said to my sister.”
“You’re not?” He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly bracing himself against whatever was coming.
“No, I’m not. I want to apologize for lying to my sister.”
He dropped his arms and clutched the back of his desk chair. “You’re apologizing to me for lying to your sister.”
Faith nodded vigorously. “Uh huh. Exactly.”
The corners of Michael’s mouth tilted just a smidge. “We don’t hear confession at this church. Are you sure you don’t want to go see Father O’Malley at the Catholic church down the road?”
She bit her lip, this time to hide a smile, and nodded again.
Michael moved from behind his desk and sat on one corner. This put him on eye level with her, and with only about a foot of space between them, Faith could see a little of the warmth had returned to his oh-so-blue-eyes.
“So why do you feel the need to unburden yourself to me? Maybe you should be apologizing to your sister.”
Faith shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “No, I definitely don’t owe Maddie an apology.”
“So you’re sorry you lied?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I told Maddie I would never be interested in a priest.” She looked down at her feet and her stomach tried to turn itself inside out. She forced herself to raise her head and look directly into his eyes. “Nothing could be further from the truth.”
He full out grinned now. “So you’re saying you might be able to become interested in a priest?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think I need to become interested. I think I’m already there.”
He reached out and took her hand, pulling her just a fraction closer to him. His grin was gone, his gaze intent on hers. “Why did you say what you did to Maddie?”
“She kept pushing and pushing, pointing out why someone like you would never be interested in me.”
“Someone like me?”
She nodded, starting to feel a bit like a bobble head doll. “A priest. Someone who is good and kind and decent. You’re funny and warm. I guess I started to see her point. Why would someone like you be interested in someone like me? You’re perfect.”
A joy-filled laugh escaped from Michael and he yanked her hand, closing the distance between them.
She gasped as his body pressed so close to hers. She tilted her head up to look at him, waiting, almost holding her breath, to hear the words she needed so badly to hear.
Michael wrapped his arms around her, resting his clasped hands on her lower back. “You’re the one that’s perfect. You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. You’re kind and loyal. You’re funny. When you look at me, I remember there’s more to me than just being a priest.”
She let out a breath. Her feelings weren’t all one-sided. Her usual sassy self raised her head and grinned at him. “So, if I asked you what you were doing on Friday night, you might agree to go out with me?
“Miss Leary, are you asking me out on a date?”
“Absolutely, Father Michael.”
“Would it be too un-priest-like to kiss you before we get to go on a real date?”
“Definitely.” Faith grinned and threw her arms around his neck. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
He proved more than willing to meet her halfway. His hands moved up her back, one arm behind her shoulders while the other went to the back of her head. He quickly took control of the kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of her mouth until she opened for him. His mouth teased hers before he pulled her body to his much harder one as he deepened the kiss.
When he finally pulled back just a little, she stood with her eyes closed for a full minute, her senses reeling from the impact of that kiss. She slowly opened her eyes as she felt his hand caressing her cheek. He smiled down into her dazed face.
“There was nothing priestly about that kiss,” she accused him.
Her favorite mischievous grin made an appearance. “I wasn’t always a priest.”
“Why Father Michael!” She pretended shock, but ruined it with a giggle. “Can I take that as a yes to Friday night?”
“Friday night, Saturday night, next weekend, next month. I’ll be there.”
Faith’s breath stilled at the commitment implied by Michael’s words. Looking up at him, she could see in his eyes that this moment, the date on Friday, whatever plans they made for next week and next month…it was just the beginning.
Thank God.
Epilogue
Faith moved up the steps to her mother’s front door as fast as her silver heels would allow. She juggled two cans of cranberry sauce in one hand while the other clutched her black wool coat tightly closed to ward off the arctic December wind. She would catch hell for being late for Christmas Eve dinner, but even the thought of her mother’s wrath couldn’t keep her from standing still for just a moment on the doorstep. Had it only been a month since she walked through this door to celebrate Thanksgiving?
Amazing the difference a month made.
Her eyes traced the boughs of greenery and white twinkle lights that had replaced the corn stalks and the wreath of fall leaves that graced the door for the last holiday. She’d felt like the family screw-up that day, the black sheep. She had believed everything about her life was wrong.
Some of her family might still feel that way. Maddie must shake her head wondering how Faith got away with wearing her funky shirts and shaggy hair in her new position as music director at St. David’s. Faith smiled and fought the urge to pinch herself.
St. David’s. Since the moment she and Michael shared their first kiss in his office, St. David’s had felt like home. And the feeling got stronger when they found out the reason the old music director had called out over Thanksgiving was because he’d eloped with his long time, long distance girlfriend and relocated to the west coast, and Michael and the church committee offered her the job.
Best of all, Michael really did seem to accept her for exactly who she was. Her first day of practice with the adult choir, she decided to dress a little more conservatively, wanting to make a good impression on the church members, especially since it had quickly gotten out she and Michael were dating. She didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his congregation.
The moment Michael saw her that evening, his face broke into the intimate smile he reserved just for her. But then his eyes dipped down and a furrow appeared between his eyebrows.
“Something wrong?”
His head tilted to the side and a few long beats pass
ed before he opened his mouth. “At the risk of going somewhere no man should ever go…what are you wearing?”
She shrugged and looked down at herself. The dark pants and matching jacket didn’t look too bad. “Clothes.”
“Faith,” the quiet, rich tone pulled her gaze back up to his, “you know I think you look great. You just look more like you were raiding Maddie’s closet than your own.”
“I thought I should look more professional.” She plucked the sleeve of her navy blue jacket and looked down at her sensible shoes. “I didn’t want you to be embarrassed by me showing up looking like….”
“Like the wonderful, interesting, original, talented woman you are?”
She didn’t care who was looking. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his, hard.
When they finally pulled away from the kiss, he kept his arms looped around her waist. She looked up at him and couldn’t help her silly grin. She never thought she’d find someone who appreciated all the things she’d been criticized for her whole life.
“I knew you were perfect.”
And since then he’d proven it over and over again.
She pulled herself out of her thoughts. After all, Mr. Perfect should be here already. He told her he’d meet her here because he had a few last minute errands to run. What was she waiting for?
She raised her hand towards the door, but it was yanked open before she made contact. In a blink, she was pulled out of the cold and into her mother’s powder room.
She plunked the cans of cranberries down on the vanity and turned to face her brother. “Who’d mom invite to dinner this time?”
Frank gave her a grin and then moved forward to grab her in a hug.
Weird, but she went with it, giving her brother a quick squeeze. But Frank didn’t seem to want to let go.
“Well, Merry Christmas to you, too, big guy.” She patted him on the back, scrunching her face in confusion as she stared at the pink-tiled wall over his shoulder.
He finally pulled back and took a deep shuddery breath. The sheen in his eyes looked an awful lot like tears. What was going on here?
“Frank,” she started, worried now that something was really wrong. But she didn’t get another word out before he cleared his throat and pulled himself up straight.
“Just wait,” he said. “Wait until you see the yummy morsel Mom invited to dinner.”
The same words he’d spoken to her when he pulled her in here on Thanksgiving. But the look on his face was totally different, a shaky smile replacing the irrepressible grin.
“What’s…?”
He moved forward, and again, just as he had on Thanksgiving, slid her coat from her shoulders and slipped it out to hang on the hall coat tree. He held a finger to his lips and led her out of the bathroom.
This time around Faith managed to grab the cans of cranberries before they left the bathroom, shaking her head over her brother’s odd behavior.
He pulled her to the living room and snuck over to the opposite side of the doorway. He gestured for Faith to look inside.
Uncertain of what she’d find, she peeked around the doorframe. Michael stood in front of the fireplace, looking intently at the handmade stockings lined up on the mantle. Even with his back to her and just the colorful lights from the Christmas tree illuminating the room, she had no trouble recognizing him this time around.
She turned to Frank with a smile that felt a mile wide. She made no attempt to keep her voice to a whisper. “Dibs.”
He grinned back. “Oh, you were right, he is definitely taken.”
“What are you two doing skulking around out here?” Her mother’s voice made them jump, but when Faith turned, her mother graced her with a gentle smile. “I think there’s someone in there waiting for you.”
Back to being confused, Faith stepped into the living room. Michael had turned from the mantle and now stood next to the artfully decorated tree. The strains of her favorite Christmas song, I’ll Be Home for Christmas, reached her ears, and she looked over her shoulder to comment on it to Frank.
Only Frank wasn’t just a step behind her as she assumed. In fact, both he and her mother had disappeared.
She turned back to Michael, wrinkling her nose. Everyone was behaving so strangely.
His smile was gentle and almost solemn. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“I know we planned on exchanging gifts tomorrow, but there was one thing I wanted to give you tonight.”
Something about his tender look and quiet voice caused a flurry of butterflies to take up residence in her stomach. She hugged her cans of cranberries close to her chest. “O-okay.”
He took a deep breath and moved to stand with just a few inches of space between them. “Faith, I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but in the last month, I’ve come to realize I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”
She tilted her head. Where was this going? “I feel the same way.”
“I had almost given up on finding someone who saw more than the priest. But from the moment we first met, I felt like you really saw me.”
Her eyes stung and filled with tears. He’d done that for her, too. When he looked at her, she didn’t feel like the family screw-up. She felt cherished and like he saw her, flaws and all, and liked her anyway. She was amazed she’d made him feel the same way.
“The truth is, I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you scrounging for change that day in the grocery store.”
Faith swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “You love me?”
Michael nodded, staring into her eyes.
“I love you, too.” The words came out on a breathless whisper.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” With those words, he reached into his pocket for a small box and at the same time sank to one knee in front of her. He opened the box, but her eyes were fixed on his face. “Faith, I love you more than I thought possible. I know it’s quick, but I know in my heart you are the only woman I can imagine spending my life with. Will you please, marry me?”
Faith stood, cranberries clutched tightly. A few tears escaped from her eyes and a fine trembling took over her body. She tried to answer him, but no sound came out.
“Faith?”
She nodded, his nervous question pulling her a little out of her emotional tumult, but still unable to push the words out.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Yes,” she finally managed, her voice small and shaky. “Yes. I can’t think of anything I would love more than to be your wife.”
Before all the words were out, Michael was on his feet and scooping her into his arms, cans and all. She stood in his embrace, tears of joy streaming from her eyes as they shared a kiss that expressed all the joy they felt at knowing they were loved.
Before they could get too carried away, a throat was cleared behind them. They broke the kiss, but remained standing together, foreheads touching.
“Hey, we all want to get in on the celebration,” Frank said.
Faith and Michael moved only enough to take in the sight of Frank, Maddie, her mother, and her grandparents crowding the entryway of the living room. She was shocked they’d given them privacy long enough for him to propose.
Unperturbed, Michael leaned back with a laugh. “Hang on. We’re not quite done here.”
He pulled his hand still holding the ring box out from behind her back and flipped it open. Faith gasped when she saw the beautiful ring winking up at her.
“It was my grandmother’s,” he said, his voice slightly husky.
“I love it.” She looked up at him and placed a lingering kiss along his jaw. They both looked down at her hands, still hanging on to the cranberries. Faith looked around for somewhere to put them down.
Her mother swooped in and relieved her of the cans. “Honestly, Faith.”
Michael pulled the ring from the velvet box. He tucked the box into his pocket and then picked
up Faith’s left hand, sliding the ring into place.
Faith looked at the ring now adorning her finger, visible proof of the feelings they shared. Tears blurred her vision, and she looked up at Michael.
“It’s perfect.” She leaned in and they shared a tender kiss before Faith pulled back a little. “Almost as perfect as you.”
About the Author
Amy Lamont writes contemporary and New Adult romance about quirky heroines and hunky heroes. Over the years she’s had some jobs she loved (working as a program coordinator for a non-profit animal rescue), some jobs she liked (freelance writing), and some jobs she hated (her experience as a waitress has turned her into the excellent tipper she is today). But nothing gives her greater joy than writing romances that pack an emotional punch and come with a guaranteed happily ever after.
Amy lives in New England with her husband, twin daughters, and two rescue mutts. She loves chatting with readers.
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Cover art by Derek Murphy, Creative Indie Covers
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Edited by Marcy Kennedy
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Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
About the Author