The Sin of True Love

1. Casey

1

CASEY

“You sure you’ve worked construction before, Casey?” I glance over and see Rodney smirking at me from the fresh concrete we poured just before lunch. “Or have you only ever had your hammer in your hands before? Cause you sure don’t look like you know how to hold that one!”

I fake a phony smile, then lunge quickly at him like I’m going to cave his head in. He backs up quickly and stumbles over a bag of cement, falls on his ass, and loses his hard hat.

Dave and Chris cackle from behind him as they pop open a couple of cold ones.

“Count yourself lucky.” I grin, giving him a hand up. “If we didn’t have witnesses here, I’d have buried you in the next pour. Jimmy Hoffa style.”

“Ah, I see. You’re pickin’ on me because I’m Black.” He grins.

“Oh, I’m pickin’ on you now? Did he just lose his balls, boys?” I ask, turning to the others.

Dave nods, and Chris laughs, raising his beer. “Definitely!”

I grab a beer from the cooler and hand it to Rodney. He does the same for me. We crack them, and I take a long swig. The cold liquid cools me instantly.

I don’t mind working out in the sun and the heat. I’ll be turning thirty soon, and I’ve been grinding since I was fifteen when my dad died and I had to step up to support the family.

It’s not ideal, so you learn to appreciate the little things in life that take your mind off the wheelbarrows full of dirt and the shock of metal on metal as you work a saw through a piece of steel. Sometimes that’s a simple cold one, and sometimes that’s running your mouth with the boys.

The project we’re working on today is enormous. Some rich guy’s new lake house. I can’t even imagine how much it’s going to cost when all is said and done.

“Imagine living in something like this?” I say casually.

Dave blows air through his lips and shakes his head. “That’d get you some chicks. Instagram girls looking to lay out, take pictures of themselves.”

“Hell yeah.” Rodney nods. “Get the house, you get the hoes.”

I laugh under my breath, shaking my head.

“You know whose house this is, right?” Chris asks.

“No. Who?”

“Reverend Patrick Tuttle.”

My body goes instantly tense.

“No shit?” Dave asks.

“Who’s that?” Rodney asks.

“Don’t you go to church?” Dave frowns, throwing a rock his way.

Rodney ducks and retaliates. “Not me, man. I’m a Satan worshipper!” Laughing, he gets up and makes horns on his head with his index fingers and starts dancing around like a demon.

“Patrick Tuttle, huh?” I growl. “That son of a bitch.”

“You don’t like him?” Dave asks. “Come on, Casey. Man’s like a pillar of the community. Fundraisers, food drives, donating to the homeless shelters. All that good stuff.”

It may be hot out, but my blood runs hotter through my veins as my heartrate increases. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, an angel steps into my line of sight.

Dave notices her at the same time and lets out a whistle of approval. The brunette we’re both staring at now looks like she just stepped off a runway at Paris fashion week. A thousand times sexier than any of those Instagram girls he was just talking about.

She’s wearing a pair of jean short-shorts. Not too short, but they do a great job of showing off her perfectly sculpted legs. And right above them, hips that were meant to entice a man and make room to push out babies.

And for some reason, that’s what’s on my mind when I look at her: making babies.

She’s wearing a camisole that hugs her flat stomach and the curves of her C-cups to perfection. I’m irate that she’s wearing a bra. All that’s doing is blocking my view of what else she has in store.

She’s on her phone, and I’m instantly wondering who she’s talking to. A guy? Does she have a boyfriend?

She turns and looks in our direction, and as our eyes meet, blood rushes to my cock, causing it to go instantly hard beneath my jeans.

Goddamn. I’m twenty-nine. Nothing like that has happened to me since I was a teenager. But here I am lusting over this chick like she’s the goddess of femininity come to Earth.

“Who the hell is that?” I ask.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Dave chuckles under his breath. “That’s the Reverend’s daughter, Michelle Tuttle.”

“What’s she doing here?” I ask. “And how did we not see her this whole morning?”

“Good question,” Rodney chimes in. “Let’s go ask her–”

“I’ll go,” I bark. “You guys stay here.”

I get up quickly and start marching away from the boys. I hear Chris call out, “Okay, boss!” sarcastically as I stride toward her.

Part of me wants to turn around and tell them all to get back to work and that lunch break is over, just to keep their eyes off of her. After all, I do have seniority here on the crew. But I push that down and keep walking. I don’t want to create any conflict. All I want to do is get closer to her.

The Reverend is a rich and powerful man in this town. There’s no way a guy like me would ever have a chance with his daughter. But I just can’t help myself. It’s like a powerful force is pulling me toward her, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“So are we building this house for you?” I ask, stepping up behind her. She whirls around, startled, still on her phone with whoever it is. Her little jump causes her breasts to bounce, which in turn causes my cock to throb with excitement.

Christ, she really is unbelievable.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she whispers into the phone, then quickly hangs up. She looks at me, and I feel my gut clench. It’s like looking into the depths of a painting done by one of the old masters. There’s no scale that could measure her beauty.

“Yes, actually,” she says, her smile tinged with something like sadness. “It is actually.”

“Seriously?” I reply. “Because I was just joking.”

She blushes and nods, looking down at her feet. Converse Chuck Taylors. New and not beat up. I guess she likes to look the part of a local girl who doesn’t come from money.

“Yeah, no, seriously,” she replies, stuttering slightly. “This is where I’ll be living with my new husband.”

She waves her arms ceremoniously and spins in a celebratory fashion, as though mocking everything she just said. However, the word husband hits me right in the gut like a blow from the hammer I was just holding.

There’s no way. I can tell by just looking at her she’s too young. This chick looks like she just graduated high school. How could she be betrothed already?

“Husband? How old are you?”

“Eighteen.” She shrugs, clearly on to what I’m getting at.

Rage fills me. I’ve never seen a girl so perfect in my life, and she’s already promised to another man? What kind of cruelty is the universe tormenting me with?

“And you’ve already found someone to marry?” I look down at her hand.

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” She glances over my shoulder, and I turn back to see the boys staring at us. “I assume they told you who my father is?”

“Ah.” I nod. “The great Reverend Tuttle.”

She lets out a sigh and runs a hand through her hair, revealing more of her gorgeous face.

“The great Reverend Tuttle,” she repeats. “Well when your father is a reverend, when he’s great , he picks a husband for you.”

My rage soars. The hatred I already had for the Reverend skyrockets. Picking a husband for his 18-year-old daughter? What kind of a father forces his eighteen-year-old daughter into a marriage? Imagine the cruelty. The narcissism.

I glance down at her hands, both of them clean.

“I don’t see a ring. Please, tell me you’re joking…”

The sound of a loud car engine cuts Michelle off before she can respond. A flashy black Benz speeds up beside us and parks. The passenger side window rolls down to reveal the driver, Jerry Williams; a blond-haired, blue-eyed, college-aged boy with way too much fake tanner on. He’s wearing a Rolex and glaring at me like I’m worlds beneath him.

“Michelle!” he shouts over the rap music blaring from within. “Let’s go! Now!” He even snaps his fingers at her like she’s his trained dog.

I’ve never met Jerry personally, but I know who he is. And I want to drive my fist into his nose. I’ve met other rich, pompous dicks in my life, but Jerry and his family take the cake.

Michelle glances back at me and sighs. “Listen, I gotta go.”

She reaches out for the handle of the car door, and I blurt out, “Casey. My name’s Casey.”

The hint of a smile crosses her juicy lips. “Michelle. But you already knew that.”

I smile back. “I’ll see you, Michelle.”

“See you.”

I watch as she opens the door and slides into the brand-new Benz. The guy driving immediately grabs her thigh and squeezes.

That is her future husband?

The window goes up, and the car speeds off, leaving me standing there feeling like I’ve been kicked in the balls.

Well that was life-altering. As will be her marriage to that jerk. That is, if I don’t do something to stop it.