Twenty-Four
Saylor
Thursday, I had promised to have lunch with my mom, and she’d arranged for us to have a private room at a spa she visited often in Jackson for manicures, pedicures, facials, and massages. We had also both gotten a Brazilian wax, but in separate rooms. That wasn’t something I wanted to have mother-daughter time bonding over.
Friday, I had gone to three different food pantries in the surrounding cities to see how they did things and take notes on the things I liked. I also got some ideas on things that could be done better. A hot-pink binder now joined my blue one for all food-pantry planning.
Saturday, I debated on going to Threads of Love and Hope, but decided that I should work on designing flyers to place at the local soup kitchens and shelters. I had taken pictures of the different racks and displays to show what was offered. The old flyers they had put out, advertising it, were faded and tattered.
Ten minutes after four, I got a text when I was uploading the flyer graphic to an online service to have them printed. It was from Jude. Seeing his name made me tense. I’d been avoiding him. The necklace he’d given me only left my neck for showers, but actually having to be around him made me nervous. I wanted to believe I could do this—whatever this was. A friendship that was more, but couldn’t be more thing?
I had my doubts.
Which was why I had yet to step foot on any of the church property.
Picking up my phone, I opened the text and sucked it up. I had to find my footing and deal with it if I was going to go back to the clothes closet.
Jude:
You did agree to return. Right? I didn’t misunderstand things…
In other words, where the hell are you?
Saylor:
I did. I spent time going to see some other food pantries and getting ideas.
I looked at the time. Wait…
Saylor:
You’re supposed to be listening to confessions.
Jude:
I am. But if you had to listen to Martha Furthlow’s list of sins, you’d want a distraction.
I chewed my bottom lip.
Saylor:
So, I’m a distraction. Thanks.
Send. Talk yourself out of that one, Father.
Jude:
Dimples, you have always been a distraction.
I let out a groan. Don’t flirt, Father .
Jude:
Will you come to the support group tonight?
I wasn’t planning on it.
Saylor:
Depends. Who is supplying dinner?
Jude:
Agnes. She always makes a big spread.
I hadn’t been since the first time, and I did like Mary and Crow. I’d talked to Daniel a little too.
Saylor:
I could eat.
I was watching the dots again. Dammit. I started to put it down.
Jude:
I’ll see you at six thirty.
I didn’t respond. That was a win in my book. One little step at a time.
With the rec hall currently unusable, the food was set up outside by the picnic tables. When I walked up, Mary spotted me first and beamed, then waved wildly like I couldn’t see her from ten feet away. At least I felt like I had been missed.
“Saylor! I am so happy you are here,” Mary gushed, hurrying up to me. “I was just telling Lemon, you’ve not met her yet, that I hoped you came tonight. What have you been up to?”
The usual. Father fired me from a volunteer job after he freaked out because he had touched my pussy. Then, he came to my birthday party, told me about the girl he’d loved and lost. How he was sorry, but couldn’t love me or fuck me, but wanted us to be friends, but not really. How about you?
“Not much.” I let my gaze drift over the group and saw one new face and a few missing.
Sibby’s missing face was a positive, but where was Jude? Crow caught my eyes and gave me a smirk and a nod.
“I thought I might be late, but no one is eating yet, I see.”
“Oh, no. Father Jude isn’t out yet,” she said, then leaned forward. “Sibby requested a confessional after Mass. Who does that?” she whispered.
Damn. So, she was here. Confessing her sins to Jude. I wondered what kind of things she confessed to him. She’d never tell him anything real. She wouldn’t want him to know her real sins.
Crow caught my eye again, and he motioned his head slightly for me to come there.
“Yeah, rude,” I agreed with Mary, but I had no idea if it was or not. I just knew Jude’s regular hours for confessional because they were posted inside and on the church’s website. “I, uh…I’ll be back.” I told her and made my way over to Crow.
He was standing over by the firepit. He watched me approach and didn’t even try to hide his obvious interest.
“Hello, Crow.” I had to tilt my head back to look up at him, and then I glanced at the fire. “I hope this doesn’t mean we are roasting weenies for dinner.”
“S’mores for dessert,” he replied.
That I could get on board with.
“I wondered if you were ever coming back,” he drawled.
I cut my eyes at him. “Miss me?”
The curl to his lips was wicked, and he knew it.
“You sure make the view a helluva lot better.”
“You trying to make me blush?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. The tough, sexy, rugged thing he had going was nice. I wasn’t feeling it that way or anything, but I kind of wished I were. Seemed my body only got hot and bothered by one man these days. The off-limits man. The one who belonged to God. Ugh.
“No, but my guess is, it takes a little more to make you blush. You’re used to men telling you how fucking hot you are.”
Fucking hot. Huh.
Crow was laying it on thick tonight.
“I don’t think we can say”—I lowered my voice to a whisper, leaning in close—“ fucking here.”
He chuckled. “Maybe not, but it was worth the sin, getting to hear you say it.”
“Saylor,” Jude said from behind us.
I turned to see him walking up. His gaze flicking from mine to Crow, then back. “Good to see you back.”
“My arm was twisted,” I replied with an innocent smile.
The flare in his eyes made me want to laugh as he shifted his eyes to Crow. “Hello, Crow. Good week?”
“It’s looking up, Father,” he replied.
Did Jude just tense up?
“That’s good to hear.”
“Father Jude,” Sibby called out. “Do you want me to make your plate?”
Jude’s gaze went back to me, and then he smiled his friendly priest smile before nodding his head and walking to the table of food and Sibby.
“I think the fact that he’s a priest is lost on her,” I said, looking at Crow so I didn’t watch Jude.
“He handles it well. Probably used to women throwing themselves at him by now. Besides, with the way he looks, the fact that he’s unavailable is an aphrodisiac for some women.”
I hadn’t really considered that. But did a lot of the women in the congregation flirt with him? I didn’t stick around after Mass to watch, and I wasn’t at any of the other meetings he had during the week. The thought of him flirting back with one of them had jealousy slowly clawing its way up out of the hole I’d tried to stuff it in. I didn’t get to be jealous of him. He wasn’t mine.
“I’m starving,” I told him.
“Right behind you,” Crow replied.
He was very literal about that. He stayed right behind me, all the way to a picnic table, where Mary was waving me over. When I sat down across from her, he sat down beside me. Mary glanced at him, then me, then back to him before dropping her gaze to her plate and picking up her fork.
“I just love creamed potatoes without any lumps. The smoother, the better,” she said before shoveling some in her mouth.
I had never given much thought to the consistency of mashed potatoes, but I smiled anyway.
“Do you ever go to the rodeo?” Crow asked.
“Never been! I want to go though. I just never have,” Mary replied, bright-eyed.
Crow hadn’t been asking her, but I did not want her to know that. When he didn’t reply, I knew he was waiting on my answer.
I looked at Mary. “You should put that on a to-do list. Then, make yourself check it off when you do it. That way, you’ll get around to it. I work best with checklists.”
Then, I turned my gaze to Crow, not missing the amusement in his eyes at my attempt to keep that from being awkward or embarrassing for Mary.
“I’ve not been in a while,” I told him. “It’s been about a year.” I left out that it had also been with my dead ex and the night he met Halo. Something I had forced Gathe to tell me when no one else would.
“How do you feel about bull riding?” he asked.
I swung my gaze to Mary. “What about you? Ever watched bull riding on television?”
She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I watched this series on Netflix. Loved it! It was called Wildfire . Anyway, there is a character that comes in as a love interest of one of the main characters for a season. He’s a bull rider. I watched him, but”—she made a pained face—“he got killed on one of those bulls. I cried for a solid hour after.”
That was not what I had expected. I did my best to keep my face neutral and not smile. “That’s, uh, tragic,” I replied.
“It was!” She seemed truly upset over it.
I turned to Crow, who wasn’t covering up his amusement. I had a right mind to stomp his foot. He had better not laugh at her.
“I think it’s exciting, but then I’ve never seen anyone killed riding one before, so…” I told him.
“Neither has she. It was a TV show.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he ducked his head to hide his grin.
When he composed himself, he looked at me. “What about going with me on Friday night? I won’t be on it too long, and I promise not to die.”
I had been picking up the roll on my plate and paused. Was he asking me out?
“You ride bulls?!” Mary almost shouted.
This time, Crow wasn’t amused. His eyes stayed locked on me. What did I say?
“Sounds like the exciting table.”
Jude’s voice startled me, and my gaze snapped off Crow to see Jude watching me.
“Oh, it is. Father, did you know Crow rode bulls?” Mary’s amazement made me think perhaps Crow should have asked her out.
“I believe I’ve heard it mentioned,” Jude said.
I was staring down at my plate now. Not sure where to look. My mac and cheese was currently what I was studying.
“He invited Saylor to go watch him,” Mary announced.
Thank you, Mary. I was tempted to kick her under the table, but then she’d probably ask me why right in front of everyone.
“You’ll have to tell us all about it next Saturday,” Mary told me.
I hadn’t agreed yet. But she’d missed that small detail. I gave her a tight smile and took a quick peek at Jude, who was eating, but not looking at me. Sibby sat down beside him and whispered something quietly to him, drawing his attention away.
It was rude not to respond to Crow, and there was no reason for me not to go. Friday night, I’d probably be with Gathe, doing the same thing. As much as I’d like to be with Jude, that wouldn’t happen. Ever.
“That sounds like fun,” I told him before taking a bite of the mac and cheese and tasting nothing.
Every nerve in my body, including my taste buds, was solely focused on Jude. But he didn’t glance my way once.