Beautiful Sinner: a standalone forbidden romance

by Sara Cate

  I’ll show him.

  Seven

  Cadence

  There are tendrils of sweat dripping down my back as I climb the stairs that evening, desperate for a shower. After lunch, Callum and I raked out the dead garden beds behind the house. I didn’t even know Ireland could be hot until today.

  After we finished the first one together, him correcting my every move, he left me to finish the second by myself. Still I felt like he was watching me the entire time I raked and shoveled and pulled the weeds out of that bed. I could hear him in my head, telling me how I was doing it wrong, how lazy I was, how wrong I was for this job. I cursed his name in my mind the entire time I worked and imagined every weed I pulled from the ground was his head.

  Still, I found myself wishing he would come back out and work alongside me.

  But he never came back outside after he left me with the work, so I packed up the garden supplies when I was done and dumped the wheelbarrow in the compost all by myself like he told me to. He probably has work to do at the church, which would explain his absence.

  I didn’t even know priests could have other jobs, but I guess this isn’t really a job as much as responsibility. He’s here to help out his sister since she lost her husband. It’s not like he’s an entrepreneur looking to get rich.

  I do wish they’d let me give them more tips on the hotel. This has to be one of the most beautiful locations in the world and they haven’t been fully booked in over a year. It doesn’t make sense.

  If they would just update the place a little, list it on some more current apps, they would be booming with business. And Ennis isn’t a bad town for young travelers. The beach isn’t like a regular beach with waves and sun, but that’s what makes it better. It’s all about the novelty of something authentic and different. If they could market that, they would make a killing. But I’ve only been here a couple days and I don’t want to insert myself too soon.

  As I reach the top of the stairs, I decide to just get straight into the shower instead of dragging all of this dead grass and dirt to my room. I can smell myself, and I don't want this stench anywhere near where I sleep. So once I reach the top of the stairs, I take the two steps to the bathroom and throw open the door.

  My heart stops in my chest.

  Standing in the middle of the room, bent over the sink with shaving cream on his face is Callum—and the shaving cream is the only thing on his body. The only thing. My eyes can’t help themselves as they travel down from his shocked expression across those thick biceps and ridged abs to the thing hanging between his legs. I should not be looking, and really it’s only a split second, but it’s etched into my memory, and I’m still staring at it. I’m not just staring, I’m drinking it in, gawking, sketching it on paper like my sister does when she tells me to freeze. It’s half hidden by a gentle tuft of black hair, but even as he turns away I catch the way it hangs with a little bit of life and not completely dead and flacid. In my not so limited experience with men, I’ve learned that this means my new boss has relieved himself recently.

  “Jesus Christ!” he bellows as he snatches a towel and covers himself in a rush.

  I shouldn’t smile, but he turns so quickly, hiding himself from my view so that my vision is left with his porcelain white bum just as I slam the door shut.

  I can’t move. Standing outside the bathroom, I just keep this polaroid picture of naked Callum in my brain, like it’s slowly developing and mine to keep forever.

  Slapping my hand over my mouth, I turn and scurry to my room, trying to stifle my laugh as I slam my door shut with me behind it.

  Jumping onto my bed, forgetting that I’m filthy and covered in dirt, I quickly shut my eyes, soaking in that vision although I’m not sure if I want it or not.

  I’m not attracted to Callum—not like that. He’s a priest. Too old for me, and not rich enough to make being old cool. Too much of an asshole half the time. I barely know him…sure I’ve known guys far less and seen a great deal more, but still. Why am I still thinking about him naked?!

  Suddenly, he’s in my doorway, and I can’t bear to open my eyes.

  “If we’re going to share a bathroom, you should really learn to knock.”

  Still, my eyes are clenched shut. “Don’t you live at the church?”

  “Sometimes. But as far as you're concerned, you can assume I live across the hall and will occasionally be naked in the bathroom with the door closed. I’ll assume the same about you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble, now covering my entire face with my hands. I can’t look at him. I can’t. Not with these new feelings stirring around in my head, like the vision of him naked was some kind of fuel to the fire.

  After a pause, I peek my eyes open to see if he’s still there, and I wish I hadn’t. Because he is still there, in a pair of jeans...without a shirt. Still glistening from the shower and looking a little too ripped for a clergyman.

  He looks like he wants to say something.

  “Twenty-five Hail Mary's for seeing your priest naked.”

  I stare at him, mouth hanging open. “Wh—what?”

  “Thirty if you entertained lustful thoughts.”

  “Oh my God!”

  My shriek bounces off the old wood and stained windows as I slam my face back in my hands. He says it with the most serious expression, and I can’t tell if he’s kidding or if I’m hallucinating.

  Finally, he does leave, and I can open my eyes. But I cannot forget the way he looked, standing in my doorway trying to punish me for seeing him naked. I don’t know what the fuck a Hail Mary is, but I have a feeling I’ll need to do a lot more than thirty with the way I’m thinking right now.

  Eight

  Callum

  It doesn’t normally take me this long to write a homily, but I’ve been distracted all week. Tonight we have Mass, and this thing is half-written. Before I toss my laptop out the window, I sneak out the back entrance for a much needed vice break. When the smoke hits my lungs, my shoulders relax.

  I used to do my writing at the house, but now she is there all the time, and I can’t seem to get anything down on paper when she’s around.

  We get a lot of girls like Cadence at the B&B. Young, enthusiastic, strong-willed. They don’t stick around for long, and they don’t normally have this effect on me.

  I’ve never second-guessed my decision to take my vows. I wanted to devote myself to something bigger than me, something that would be around after I was gone, and I never considered myself a romantic guy anyway. I dated and even fell in love in my twenties—when I was her age, and it always left me feeling empty and unfulfilled.

  This...speaking to my congregation, living in divinity and sacrament, feeling the presence of God in everything I do...this fulfills me.

  Do these things by any means make me a good person...I wish. That’s what I thought when I took my vows. I was doing right. I was being righteous. Moral compass be damned, I needed straight and narrow rules, and the holy orders give me that.

  Sure, I have my vices, but I’m upstanding where it counts.

  But fuck. Passing by that girl every morning and every night, watching her hoist a shovel in those short shorts, sweat glistening on her sun-kissed skin, knowing she’s sleeping so close to me and just within my reach, it’s doing things to me.

  Maybe that’s why I called her a slut when I was drunk. Not that that’s by any means an excuse. I know how fucked up that was, but maybe if she had better self-restraint in the first place, she wouldn’t have landed in my B&B without a penny to her name.

  Living under my roof. Sleeping next door.

  I would never break my vow. I wouldn’t. I’m not that kind of man, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about it. No matter how sinful those thoughts are.

  It’s a temptation. I know that. Just a test of my faith and commitment, and thinking about sinning is the same as sinning. A better priest wouldn’t do even that, but I’m not a great priest. I’m not a terrible one, and I follow the r
ules for the most part. My sermons bring in more followers. We’ve turned the church around in the community, and our volunteer contributions have quadrupled since I took the position.

  How bad is it if I spend my nights thinking about the way Cadence might sound when she comes? Or what her favorite position is. Or what those full lips would feel like around my cock.

  I’ll say another Hail Mary for that last one. That was too much.

  It’s like she’s found her way inside my mind without my permission.

  As I head back inside, I make a quick stop in the bathroom to wash my hands and spray on a little cologne to cover the smoke. The ladies who usually help set up for Mass will be here in an hour, and I don’t want to smell like an ashtray.

  Sitting back down to my desk, I exhale.

  Focus. Write this homily.

  Or recycle one from a few years ago…

  Just as I open my laptop to dig into some of my old stuff, I hear a knock on my office door.

  “It’s open,” I call.

  As she pushes open the door, I see her out of my periphery and I know those long legs before I can even glance up. She insists on wearing shorts with the long work boots coming up to her mid-shins. The bottoms of her pockets peek out of her cut-offs, and I feel the need to mentally apologize to the statue of Mary, poised behind me like she can see the thoughts in my head.

  I would only have to shift the inseam of those shorts a little to the side…

  Stop it.

  Cadence steps in and looks around my office, and I see that she’s a little tense, maybe a tad uncomfortable. “So you really are a priest.”

  She pinches her lips between her fingers as she stares at me at my desk. I see her trying to soften me up, make conversation the way she does with Bridget and Daisy and everyone else who comes through our doors. I keep the wall between, standing a good distance away where I belong.

  “How can I help you?”

  “Bridget sent me. There’s a leak at the house in the second floor bathroom.”

  I let out a groan. “It does that every once in a while. You’ll need to replace the seal…”

  As I glance up at her, I see that familiar deer-in-headlights expression, and I realize that the possibility of her figuring out how to replace the seal in the tank is about as likely as Misty being able to do it. There are only three hours until service tonight, and if I don’t get this thing done, it’ll be a mess. I can’t improvise. I’ve learned that before.

  “I’m coming,” I groan.

  “You probably should have hired someone who could fix a toilet.”

  I give her an impatient glare as she bites back her joke.

  “Let’s go.”

  She climbs into the van’s driver side and breaks out in laughter. “It’s a habit,” she says as she stares at the steering wheel. “I keep getting in the passenger side and then remember these dumb cars are backwards.”

  “Looks like you’re driving.” I watch as she puts the stick shift in gear after we painstakingly went over it for hours just a few days ago. It gives me a touch of pride. Not to mention it’s strangely sexy.

  Back at the house, Bridget is on the phone while folding towels as we go up the stairs together.

  “Get my toolbelt from the closet.” I roll up my sleeves as Cadence jogs down the hall. My eyes won’t move from the way her long dark hair hangs across her shoulders while I roll up my sleeves. As she returns with my toolbelt, I nod my head toward her. “Go ahead, put it on.”

  She answers with a look of annoyance. But she does it anyway. God, I just want to make her mad. I love seeing those feathers ruffled.

  With the belt wrapped around her waist, pulling her short shorts even farther down on her hips, I have to ask myself how the fuck I got here. How did this girl land in my lap, learning how to fix a toilet and drive a stick shift, and I tell myself that if I didn’t really want her here, I would have found a way to get rid of her by now. I could have told her no, but I didn’t. I could have put up more walls between us, but I haven’t yet.

  “Alright. You need to take the top off the tank and get in there.” She gives me another one of those disgusted scowls, but she does it. “Now, flush the water out without letting it fill back up. Then, you’re going to have to reach in and remove the worn out valve seal.”

  She silently gags, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I’m sitting on the edge of the tub as she bends over the tank, putting us in very close quarters and that denim-clad rear end of hers on full display. When she gets the broken seal out, she screams and tosses it into the bin.

  She may hate every second and make one hell of a mess, but after about an hour, the job is done. Cadence clearly isn’t afraid of getting her hands a little dirty, like she’s on a mission to prove me wrong. Aside from Misty, I haven’t found anything Cadence is actually afraid of.

  I find myself wanting to push her boundaries a little more and more just to see how far I can take it. But even I know how dangerous a game like that is. I hear the warnings in my head. I just choose to ignore them.

  Nine

  Cadence

  “Cadence, we have a long drive today.”

  Before he can get a second bang on the door, I fling it open and stare at him with a bright six a.m. smile.

  We’re driving to Dublin today for an appointment with the consulate to get my replacement passport and apply for my work visa. I’m so excited I hardly slept last night. Until now, this felt like just a wild idea, but now it feels real.

  As I take in the man standing in front of me, my excitement about the work visa and trip to Dublin is suddenly washed out by the fact that I haven’t really seen Callum in his everyday clothes. He’s been in his priest thing and he’s been in work clothes, but right now he’s standing in front of me in a snug-fitting pair of dark jeans and a T-shirt that makes his biceps look so good I want to gnaw on them like a teething baby.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe. “Looking like a snack.”

  Callum is currently occupied with something on his phone, but his eyebrows jump as he slowly looks up at me, staring at me like I’ve grown a dick on my forehead. I nearly slap my hand over my mouth. I do not know why I said that. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment. Probably because I’m just excited and in a good mood, but if I’ve learned anything in that last week and a half it’s that my stony-faced housemate does not make jokes.

  “Like a what?”

  I clear my throat and close my door without looking at him again. “Ready to go?”

  I can feel his stare on my face as we descend the stairs in the darkness. Our appointment is this afternoon, and even though it’s only a three hour drive, he promised me we could see a little bit of the city before we head back.

  The sun is just coming up as we start our drive, and I realize that there are some benefits to not having a phone. With my head propped against my arm, I watch the rolling green landscape and try not to let the lingering “oh my god, what am I doing here?” thoughts disrupt how peaceful this is.

  The radio is playing quietly, and I notice the lack of uncomfortable silence between us. Turning my head, I look at Callum again, trying to piece him together. He’s impossible to categorize. He’s not old, but not young. Not like how I imagined priests to be. He’s moral, but not outwardly kind. Good looking without being overtly hot or conceited. And I can’t decide if I’d rather fuck him or curl up in his arms like a lapdog.

  “Why did you become a priest?” I ask, desperate to fill the silence in the car.

  There’s not much of a reaction on his face. “It was my calling.”

  “What does that mean?” I don’t know what I’m looking for, but his devotion to that answer has me feeling unsettled. He said it so quickly it was either rehearsed or something he’s very, very sure about.

  He’s silent a moment, staring out at the road until he finally asks, “Do you know what providence means, Cadence?”

  For a moment, I�
��m afraid I’m about to get a religious lecture, but just for curiosity’s sake, I answer. “No.”

  “Simply put, it means that I am fulfilling a purpose I was meant for, that God determined my future, and I am actualizing His plan for me. It means He is in control.”

  “Like fate?”

  “No, not like fate. Like God’s plan.”

  “But how did you know? How did you know His plan for you?”

  For the first time, he almost smiles, a tiny lift to the side of his mouth, and it creates a ripple effect across his features, reaching his eyes. “He told me.”

  “Are you a virgin?” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop it. My cheeks burn as the air between us goes up in flames of embarrassment.

  He reacts with a physical shake of his head like I just threw dirt in his eyes. “You can’t just ask people that, Cadence.”

  “I’m sorry. I forget my filter sometimes, but you have to admit...it’s a valid question.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Well, then don’t answer it.”

  The silence overtakes us, stinking up the car with awkwardness. I shouldn’t have said that, but I’m not used to being around people who are so uptight. It’s like I need to constantly remind myself that regardless of how filthy his mouth is, he’s still a priest, and that’s not going to change.

  “No.”

  My spine stiffens. No...he won’t answer it? Or no...he’s not—

  “I’m not a virgin. I didn’t take my vows until I was almost thirty. I lived a lot of life in my twenties.”

  Why is this vision of Callum Moore being a manwhore around Ennis suddenly sending scorching hot butterflies careening through my stomach?

  Somehow it makes me feel better, like maybe he’s made as many mistakes as me. Maybe he’s not so virtuous after all, and he has skeletons in his closet too.

  “Oh.”

  More silence, and this time I can tell he’s the one uncomfortable. He keeps shifting in his seat and his hands tighten around the steering wheel with every breath.