Chapter 6
Mike
Power started coming back on all across town by late morning.
And by mid afternoon, nearly everyone that still had a house, had their power back.
Cable and telephone lines were still being worked on, but being able to turn the light back on was an unexpected pleasure.
Not only that, it suddenly made managing everything a lot easier.
“Pastor Mike!”
I turned, looking for the unfamiliar voice calling my name. My eyes landed on a tall, broad-shouldered man with ginger hair and a cream cowboy hat. I had to stop my jaw from hitting the floor. He was, without a doubt, one of the most gorgeous men I’d seen in my entire life.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said, stopping short and holding out a hand. “Colt Dawson.”
I took his hand without thinking. “The Colt Dawson? The rodeo star?”
“Retired,” he nodded with a smile. “But that’s me.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just stood there, shaking his hand with my jaw hanging slack.
“Maggy told me you’ve been workin’ your ass off,” he grinned. “I’m here to relieve you for the day.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I said, finally finding my voice. My hand was still clasped in his, warm and calloused from years of rope work. I reluctantly pulled away. “I’m fine, really.”
“No offense, Pastor, but you look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet,” Colt chuckled, his green eyes twinkling. “Caroline sent me over. Said I should make myself useful since the ring didn’t get hit.”
I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly conscious of how disheveled I must look. “Caroline Baker? From the rodeo school?”
“One and the same. She’s my old friend, and she thinks you need a break.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the movement pulling his shirt tight across impressive muscles. “And I don’t like to disappoint Caroline. And my boyfriend told me to go find something to do before he kills me.”
“I appreciate the concern, but there’s still so much to do,” I protested, though part of me was already wavering. The exhaustion of the past few days was starting to catch up with me.
Colt’s expression softened. “Listen, I know how it is. You want to be everything to everyone. But you can’t pour from an empty cup, Pastor.”
I smiled despite myself. “Call me Mike, please.”
“Mike,” he repeated in that deep drawl of his. I had to remind myself he was taken. “Take a breather. I’ve got experience organizing disaster relief from when that hurricane hit down in Corpus Christi a few years back.”
I glanced around at the volunteers bustling about the church grounds. Cash was nowhere to be seen. He’d disappeared after noon without a word. The thought of a few hours to myself was tempting.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Positive.” Colt tipped his hat back slightly. “Besides, I need to feel useful. Been sitting on my hands too long. Not like we can run the school right now, anyway.”
“Alright,” I conceded. “But call me if anything comes up. Anything at all.”
“Will do, Pastor—I mean, Mike,” he grinned, and my heart did a little flip. “Now go on, git.”
I handed over my clipboard with the day’s tasks and contacts, giving him a quick rundown of what needed immediate attention. Colt absorbed the information with surprising efficiency, asking smart questions and jotting down notes.
“You’re a godsend, Colt,” I said sincerely.
He winked. “Just doing what needs doing. Now scram before I change my mind.”
The moment I shut the door to the parsonage behind me, the world went silent. I stopped for a moment, leaning against the frame, and let out a sigh of relief. I loved helping people, I truly did. But I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t thankful for Colt’s insistence. The break was much needed.
I made my way to the bathroom first, desperate for a hot shower.
As I stripped off my clothes, I caught my reflection in the mirror and winced.
Colt hadn’t been exaggerating. I looked like hell.
Dark circles under my eyes, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a general pallor that spoke of too little sleep and too much stress.
The shower felt like heaven, hot water sluicing away days of grime and tension.
I stood under the spray longer than necessary, letting my mind drift.
Unbidden, thoughts of Cash floated to the surface.
Where had he gone? Was he making any progress with selling the ranch?
And why did I care so much about a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with me?
I toweled off and changed into fresh clothes, pajama pants and a simple t-shirt.
But at the last moment I decided to allow myself a little freedom and abandoned the t-shirt.
I was home alone anyway and there was no need to look pastoral when I wasn’t on duty.
The house was blissfully quiet as I padded to the kitchen, my stomach reminding me I’d skipped lunch.
I made a simple sandwich and carried it to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a groan of relief.
For a while, I just sat there, savoring the silence and the taste of food that wasn’t donated casserole. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a moment to myself. The tornado had hit just days after my arrival, and it had been non-stop crisis management ever since.
I was halfway through my sandwich when I heard the front door open. Heavy footsteps in the entryway, then Cash appeared, freezing when he saw me sprawled on the couch and shirtless. I watched his eyes rake over me, the sight catching him off guard.
“Thought you’d be at the church,” he said, clearly surprised to find me home and half naked.
“Got relieved of duty,” I replied, wiping crumbs from my mouth.
I tried to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks and the stirring in my pajama pants.
Being caught like this wasn’t my plan, but I couldn’t deny it was more than a little exhilarating.
“Colt Dawson showed up and practically ordered me to take a break.”
Cash’s eyebrows shot up. “Colt Dawson? The bull rider?”
“The very same. I was surprised to see him too. Apparently he’s friends with Caroline Baker,” I added, suddenly very aware of my bare chest. I resisted the urge to cover myself, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were.
“He’s helping out at the church while the rodeo school is closed. ”
Cash’s gaze lingered on my torso a moment longer before he seemed to catch himself and looked away. “Small world,” he muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
I noticed he was carrying a manila folder tucked under his arm. “Any luck with the real estate agents?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Not really. Nobody’s jumpin’ at the chance to list a property that’s basically a pile of rubble with a foundation. One guy offered me about a third of what the land’s worth on the spot, but I told him to fuck off.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, setting my sandwich plate aside. “That’s rough.”
Cash shrugged, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. “It is what it is. Might have to stick around longer than I planned to sort things out.” He paused, glancing at me again. “If that’s a problem...”
“Not at all,” I assured him quickly. “Stay as long as you need. My home is yours.”
An awkward silence stretched between us. Cash stood in the doorway, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to join me or retreat to his room. I was about to offer him something to eat when he spoke again.
“You don’t look like a pastor,” he said bluntly.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s a pastor supposed to look like?”
“I don’t know. Old? With a gut and a bad comb-over? Not...” He gestured vaguely in my direction, then seemed to think better of it. “Never mind.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” I smiled, enjoying his discomfort more than I probably should have. “But I’m just a regular guy who happens to be a pastor.”
Cash snorted. “You call a six-pack regular?” He seemed to realize what he’d said and quickly added, “I’m going to shower.”
Before I could respond, he disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone with my half-eaten sandwich and the realization that this grumpy cowboy was most definitely checking me out.
I heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on. Leaning back against the couch, I closed my eyes and tried not to think about Cash naked under the spray of hot water. It was inappropriate, unprofessional, and exactly the kind of thought I couldn’t seem to banish from my mind.
“God give me strength,” I muttered to myself, picking up my sandwich again. But then I put it back down. “I should put a shirt on,” I grumbled, forcing myself up from the couch.
I headed down the hall to my room, but only made it about halfway when I noticed the bathroom door had been left slightly ajar.
Through the crack, I could see steam billowing out from the shower.
I knew I should keep walking, should respect Cash’s privacy, but my feet stopped moving of their own accord. Temptation got the better of me.
The glass shower door was fogged, but not completely. I could see Cash’s silhouette through it, water cascading down his body as he tilted his head back. My mouth went dry. I should leave. This was wrong. I was a pastor, for heaven’s sake.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
As the steam shifted, I caught glimpses of his body.
He was all tanned skin, broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, and a dusting of dark hair across his chest that trailed down his stomach.
He turned slightly, and I saw the curve of his ass, firm and perfect. My heart hammered against my ribs.
When he reached for the soap and began to lather his chest, I felt myself growing hard in my pajama pants.
It had been months since I’d been with anyone.
Moving to a new town, starting a new position…
romance hadn’t exactly been a priority. And now here I was, spying on my houseguest like some kind of pervert.
Cash ran his hands down his torso, soap suds clinging to his skin.
Then his hand moved lower, wrapping around his cock, and I nearly gasped aloud.
He was impressive, thick and long even in its semi-hard state.
I watched, transfixed, as he gave himself a few lazy strokes, his head falling back against the shower wall.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. I was rock hard now, straining against the thin fabric of my pajamas.
The rational part of my brain screamed at me to leave, but my body refused to cooperate.
I hadn’t wanted someone this badly in years.
This man, grumpy and broken as he was, didn’t even hold a candle to my earlier passing fascination with Colt.
Cash let out a low groan that sent shivers down my spine. His hand moved faster now, water and soap making the glide easier. I pressed my palm against my own erection, trying to relieve the pressure. Just one touch and I knew I’d be done for.
Suddenly, Cash turned toward the door, and I jerked back, heart in my throat. Had he seen me? I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste to get away. I ducked into my bedroom, closing the door as quietly as I could, my back pressed against it as I tried to catch my breath.
What was I doing? This wasn’t me. I didn’t spy on people. I didn’t lust after damaged, angry men who clearly wanted nothing to do with me. Well, I did, but I was trying not to do that anymore. Yet here I was, cock throbbing painfully, the image of Cash touching himself burned into my retinas.
I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor, head in my hands.
“Get it together, Mike,” I whispered to myself.
This was inappropriate on so many levels.
Cash was vulnerable, homeless because of the tornado.
He was struggling with his father’s death and family issues I couldn’t begin to understand.
The last thing he needed was his host, a pastor no less, perving on him through a bathroom door.
But God help me, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d seen. The water running down his muscled back. The way his hand had wrapped around his thick cock. The sound of his pleasure echoing off the tile.
I heard the shower shut off, and panic surged through me.
I scrambled to my feet, grabbed the first shirt I could find, and threw it on.
By the time Cash emerged from the bathroom, I was sitting on the couch once more, pretending to eat my abandoned sandwich while reading a bible.
I kept it open in my lap, hiding the evidence of my arousal.
“Bathroom’s free,” Cash called out, his voice gruff as he passed through to the spare bedroom.
“Thanks,” I managed to reply, not daring to look up.
I waited until I heard his bedroom door close before I let out the breath I’d been holding. This was going to be a problem. A big problem. Because now that I’d seen Cash Callahan naked, I couldn’t unsee it. And I wanted more.
God forgive me, but I wanted so much more.