Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
claire
“Actually, mind leaving the truck running while you’re inside?” I ask when Rowan cuts off the engine.
“You’re not coming in with me?” he gestures toward the church in front of us, and I can tell he’s trying to pull one over on me by the way the corner of his mouth threatens to lift.
“Nice try,” I tell him and hold out my palm, but he dangles the keys over my hand.
“Might have to crank it a few times to get the AC to stay on,” he says, his dimples becoming more pronounced by the second. “Truck’s getting old, you know.”
“Are you really telling lies in the church parking lot now?”
“Of course not,” he replies with exaggerated sincerity. “It’s just that the air conditioner’s been giving me trouble. I meant to get it fixed, but we’ve had such an abnormally cold winter that I haven’t needed it lately.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t go in there, especially not dressed like this,” I protest, gesturing over my dirty overalls.
“Sure you can,” he says, reaching over to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, and I hold my breath while his fingers graze the side of my neck. “You look … beautiful. You always look beautiful.”
I frown. “Lying and flirting? You’re going to burst into flames the second you walk inside.”
He bites his lip and stifles a smile. “Flirting isn’t inherently sinful. And that’s what the Holy Water is for, anyway, to wash away my venial sins.”
“Which is exactly why I’m not going inside. I wouldn’t have any idea what to do, and I’m going to look like a total idiot alongside all of the other perfect little Catholic girls with their pretty dresses and their modesty veils or whatever.”
“You do realize you just described my sister, don’t you?” he replies, and I growl in frustration, because he’s right. Daisy is one of those perfect little Catholic girls, and she’s still the best person I know, which makes me an ass right now.
“Seriously, though, we both know you’ve been to a Catholic church before and that you’re well aware there will be plenty of women who won’t be wearing dresses and veils,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement.
“And you don’t even have to participate, but I’d be more than happy to show you what to do.
In fact, it might even be the highlight of my life. ”
I pout. “Why do you want me to go with you so badly? You realize there won’t be some miraculous conversion the minute I step inside, Holy Water or not.”
“Maybe I just like having you around. And, sure, a miraculous conversion is unlikely, but I wouldn’t rule it out completely,” he muses and laughs when I let my head fall back with another groan.
“Please, Claire? Just this once … bestie?” he adds, and he knows he has me up against the ropes after that.
“I can’t believe I walked right into this,” I grumble, grabbing my jacket from the back seat.
He beams at me before he hurries around to the other side and opens my door, and he seems completely undeterred by my side-eyed warning as he leads me forward with his hand on the small of my back. And I’m afraid this gesture means way more to him than I could have guessed.
I mime his actions when he dips a finger in Holy Water and crosses himself, and again when he kneels before ushering me into the pew. I glance around, noticing all the variation in everyone’s attire, and I honestly don’t feel as out of place as predicted.
Rowan hands me an open missal to follow along and gives me a cue each time we transition from standing to kneeling or sitting, and I think I manage to blend in well enough.
There’s plenty going on between the ringing bells and burning incense, especially with all the babies and children making themselves heard.
“So the kids stay the whole time?” I ask him at one point, and he nods and grins.
“Of course. Jesus is here—body, blood, soul, and divinity. We’re all receiving grace from being in His presence,” he replies, gesturing to the altar, and I make a mental list of additional questions to ask later.
Then Rowan leans over to whisper, “This is the best part,” just before the priest lifts the host in the air and starts singing in Latin, and I can’t help but smile at his all-around adorableness.
And when he lingers a second too long after leaning in to kiss my cheek for the sign of peace, I have to bite my lip to keep myself from simpering like a silly teenage girl.
“What?” I ask when I catch him staring at me after he returns from communion.
“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head and smirking, and I let out an exhale as I force my attention back to the gorgeous paintings in each section of the vaulted ceilings.
“Are you … praying?” he whispers.
I scoff and elbow him. “You’re not supposed to ask me something like that,” I scold him, but he’s still smiling. “But, no, I was just admiring the architecture.”
He nods knowingly. “Sure you were.”
I click my tongue, and he laughs softly.
“Were you praying for me by any chance?” he inclines his head to add quietly.
“No, but maybe I should pray for you … to quit annoying me,” I mumble.
“I pray for you, you know, every time I think of you. So, basically, all the time,” he continues, and I swallow hard. I don’t know why it makes my stomach dip, but it does.
“Aren’t we supposed to be silent right now?” I return in a harsh whisper.
He grins. “Sorry. Do continue.”
I roll my eyes again, and he stifles another laugh.
I’m starting to worry Rowan’s face might crack by the time Mass ends and we make it back to his truck. And as much as I don’t want to ruin this for him, I’m not sure I can take much more of his open adoration.
“Okay, what is your deal?” I demand after catching him staring for the umpteenth time today.
“Nothing,” he repeats, and he continues gazing at me for a bit longer before he finally shakes his head and moves to crank the truck.
“Seriously, did I do something wrong back there?”
He shakes his head again. “No, it’s just … never mind.”
“Now you have to tell me,” I whine.
He releases a loud exhale before eying me carefully. “Fine. You were right before.”
“About what?”
“I do like seeing you on your knees,” he drawls, and my lips part in a gasp as a wave of heat runs through me.
“I can’t believe you just said that!” I protest and shove him in the shoulder.
But that one-sided smirk makes another appearance.
“I mean it. You’re one of my favorite people, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching you participate in the Mass.
” He pauses to adjust his collar, and although the idea of him getting hot and bothered over something like this should be comical, it’s admittedly having a similar effect on me.
“It might be one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a lot for you,” he murmurs.
My jaw lowers again. “Isn’t that sacrilegious?”
“Maybe if I were saying it to get into your pants, but that’s not the case. I’m encouraging you to grow in holiness, because I care about your soul,” he states with a more confident air. “It’s not my fault that the incense and candlelight make everything seem more romantic.”
I force another eye roll, but I can’t help the way Self-Assured Rowan makes me squirm in my seat. “Sounds like you need to get laid more than I do.”
His expression falls, but he doesn’t say anything else once he redirects his attention onto the road.
“All right. Fine!” I blurt out after I can’t take any more of his silence.
“Maybe I didn’t hate your precious Mass as much as I thought I would.
And maybe I sort of get some of that redemptive suffering stuff you’ve been jabbering on about after hearing the part when Jesus offered up His body for all mankind or whatever. ”
He glances over at me, his face looking pained, and I watch his throat work as he swallows hard. “Are you trying to seduce me right now?” he asks after he seems to collect himself. “Because it’s definitely working. Should I pull over?”
I groan and cover my face with my hands. “I used to think you were so different, but you’re just as bad as all the other men, aren’t you?”
“I do have the same programming,” he replies with a laugh. “And the same hardware.”
“You’re like a MacBook. Your operating system is a little weird, you run a little cleaner, and you’re less susceptible to viruses, but you’re still just a slave to your hardwiring at the end of the day.”
He shrugs. “I have been told I’m a dangerous man.”
The look he gives me makes me shiver, and I reach out to mess with the AC vent, pretending to be cold when I’m actually burning up from the inside out.
“Yeah, well, you’d better watch yourself on that date. I’m not so easily bothered, but you’re gonna scare Little Miss Perfect away. Wait a few weeks, you know, for your wedding night, before you spring all that dirty talk on her.”
His shoulders droop, and guilt settles in my stomach again.
The guy just said he spends the majority of his time thinking of me and praying for me, and I repay him by teasing him about his most deeply held convictions.
But I’m not doing him any favors by encouraging him to flirt with me or letting him think that he can turn me into the woman he’s been holding out for, either.
“Right,” he says on an exhale. “It’s probably bad luck to melt her panties on the first night.”
The rest of our drive is too quiet, and I clear my throat to apologize again when I can’t take the silent treatment any longer. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to miss out on meeting your soulmate, especially not on my account.”
“And once I find her, you won’t stand in my way?” he asks as he pulls into my driveway.
My jaw lowers, and my head rears back. “Of course not.”
He huffs out a sardonic laugh. “Do you promise?”
“I want you to be happy, Rowan,” I say, scoffing. “I can’t believe you think I’d do anything to keep you from …”
But I don’t bother finishing when I realize what he means, the sneaky son of a—
“Good to know,” he drawls, interrupting my thoughts.
His laughter softens while I growl and struggle to unbuckle my seat belt, and he repays my scowl with a smile when he gets out to walk me to my door.
“Good night, Claire Bear. Thanks again for your services today.”
“I did it for Gertie and Giles,” I reply and unlock the front door, grunting after my dogs bypass me and run straight out to Rowan.
He ignores me and stoops down to pet them. “Pick you up early on Easter Sunday? Or should I just stay over that Saturday night so we can go to the vigil Mass together?”
“I can drive myself,” I retort.
“And what will my mama think?” he poses, grinning.
I roll my eyes. “Go home, Rowan.”
“Fine. I’ll text you when I make it back. You know, in case the Holy Spirit moves you and you want to pray for my safety,” he says with a wink.