Chapter 2
Chapter two
“Would you rather never eat pizza again, or only eat pizza for the rest of your life?” Molly asked, tossing another gummy bear from the bag in the cupholder into her mouth.
“Easy. Never eat pizza again,” Caleb said.
“Seriously? You know your answer that fast?”
“There are so many foods in the world. You’d trade them all for pizza?
” He glanced at her as he steered the car into the center travel lane of the highway and adjusted the cruise control.
They’d been driving for a little over an hour and a half and traffic was moving slowly, but at least it was moving.
And if a few extra cars on the road meant Molly got a few extra minutes with Caleb, well, she didn’t exactly mind.
“There are so many different kinds of pizza, though. You’ve got your classics—pepperoni, eggplant, margherita—”
“I’m familiar.” He smirked, the corner of his mouth kicking up in a way that should not have been adorable but was completely irresistible all the same.
Get it together, Molly. He’s a priest for Christ’s sake.
“And then you have your breakfast pizzas.”
“Is that like a breakfast burrito?”
“Similar concept. Fewer beans.”
He chuckled, the sound low and rich, like molasses.
“And you can’t forget dessert pizzas.”
“Dessert pizzas,” he repeated as though he thought he had misheard her.
“The Pizza Stone makes one with Nutella, sliced strawberries, and whipped cream. It’s incredible.”
“That’s not pizza.”
“Anything’s pizza if you put it on a pizza crust.”
“And for a Nutella-pizza-crust monstrosity, you’d give up pasta? Ice cream? Fresh sourdough bread?”
Molly scoffed and dug into the gummy bear bag again in search of an elusive clear gummy. “No, definitely not.”
“But you said—”
“I just wanted to be sure you’d given my question the consideration it was due.”
He laughed and held out his hand, indicating the candy in her hand with a waggle of his eyebrow. “Bear me.”
She lifted a handful of gummy bears from the bag and dropped them into his open palm. He deposited the entire handful in his mouth in a move more appropriate for their students than for a forty-six-year-old priest.
“Your turn,” she said.
“Hmmm... Eggnog or hot chocolate?”
She scoffed. “Hot chocolate. Next.”
“I’m not sure you gave my question the consideration it was due,” he teased.
“There’s nothing to consider. Eggnog is gross and hot chocolate is delightful.”
“Valid.”
Molly turned slightly towards Caleb. The sun gilded his profile, accentuating the strong slope of his nose, the square cut of his jaw.
..and the white collar peeking out at the top of his shirt.
It wasn’t that she ever forgot Caleb was a priest, but somehow, over the last year since he’d taken over at St. Anthony’s, she’d come to see him as so much more.
She’d always thought priests were stuffy old men with severe expressions ranting about fire and brimstone, not a silver fox-in-training with a smile that lit up his whole face and a way of speaking that made her feel like the only person in the room.
Not this man with his hazel and gold eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled and biceps that strained the fabric of his shirts, muscled forearms that were far too distracting when he wore short sleeves, hands so large and warm it was impossible not to imagine how they’d feel on her skin—
Still a priest. Still very much off limits and entirely inappropriate to fantasize about.
Though there had been that one night last May, when he had almost seemed to invite her to forget about his vocation and the twenty-year age difference between them.
“Did you always want to be a priest?” His eyebrows lifted and she winced. “Sorry. Is that rude to ask?”
“No. I wasn’t expecting the question, that’s all.”
“I just realized I’ve never asked you and... You joined the priesthood really young, didn’t you? I remember Gavin saying something about that.”
His smile seemed more rueful than pleased. “My baby brother does love telling the story of my calling.”
“Is that what it was? A calling?”
He hesitated and again she got the sense she’d stumbled into a question he didn’t want her to ask. “I thought it was. At the time.” She let the words settle between them, waiting for him to continue. “No, I didn’t always want to be a priest. But, to be fair, I didn’t want to be anything.”
“You didn’t dream of being a firefighter when you were a kid? I thought little boys always wanted to be firefighters.”
“Maybe when I was little, but by the time I was old enough people were asking me that question, I didn’t have an answer.”
He glanced at her, as though he was weighing how much to say, his eyes swimming with his unspoken thoughts.
When he turned back to the road, a smile slid over his lips that looked nothing like the smiles he usually gave her.
This was his politicking smile, the one he reserved for parents’ night and meetings with Bruce.
That smile sank in her stomach like a lead weight.
“What about you?” he asked. “Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher?”
Molly turned away, focusing on the trees whipping by on the side of the highway through her window.
“No. I became an English major because I wanted to read all day. But right before my junior year, my parents reminded me that eventually I’d need to be able to pay my bills, and no one was going to hire me to read.
They suggested I become a librarian, but Williston didn’t have a library sciences degree.
I think they were hoping I’d move home, but I enrolled in the education school instead. ”
“You’re telling me if Williston University had a library degree, we wouldn’t even be sitting here right now?”
She shrugged. “We might be. Your brother did marry one of my best friends.”
“But you’re such a great teacher,” he spluttered.
She barked out a laugh. “How would you know? You haven’t taken one of my classes.”
“I know. Anyone who can get high school juniors excited about Shakespeare is a great teacher. Those kids adore you.”
Her heart warmed with the compliment, but she waved it away. “I bribe them with donuts on test days.”
“And you make learning fun. Having them rewrite Othello as a reality TV show and film the episodes? Brilliant.”
Now she was blushing in earnest. She was proud of that unit, and the kids did seem to enjoy it. “I like teaching. It’s not where I intended to end up, but it’s been a pretty great place to land.”
Tell him now.
She’d offered to come on this trip in no small part because she was hoping she’d finally find a way to tell Caleb about the job offer sitting in her email inbox that she’d been ignoring for the last week.
The one that would take her away from Aster Bay.
The one expecting an answer by the first of the year.
She knew what she should do, but every time she tried to sign the contract she thought about all the things she’d miss—the family dinners at Lemon and Thyme with their friends and the late night girl talk over too much pizza and wine while Jo recounted her latest escapades.
And Caleb.
“How did you end up teaching at St. Anthony’s?”
She sighed, shooting him an unimpressed look. “This is starting to sound like a job interview.”
He grinned, a real grin that lit up his whole face and made her feel like a bottle of shaken champagne. What she wouldn’t give to only ever see this kind of smile from him.
“Maybe it is.”
“Oh yeah? What position am I interviewing for?”
He hummed in thought, his gaze skimming over her, raising goosebumps along her arms. “Official road trip companion.”
“You are asking all the wrong questions then.” She reached back into the bag of gummy bears and dropped a few in his outstretched palm before plucking a bright red one for herself.
“What should I be asking?”
She chewed the gummy bear slowly before answering. “Best highway rest stop snack?”
“Easy. A giant soft pretzel. The kind with the big chunks of salt that fall off and get everywhere.”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Yeah. The wrong kind.”
She laughed and pointed at the sign ahead of them. “Great, then you won’t mind stopping at that rest stop to grab one.”
He glared at her but there was no heat in it, his lips curled in a way that made her warm all over. “You’re going to make us late.”
“You in a rush?”
“Not in the slightest.”