Saints and Sinners (A Classic Romance) (4 page)

"You poor man." Dee's laughter soothed him, a balm of humor and connection he needed more than any soul on earth could possibly know. "Please. Stay for dinner."

"Ah, the old guilt trip. Works every time."

"You'll probably regret it, Matt."

"Not half as much as Loren." When Dee agreed with a snicker, he joined her and felt the connection grow stronger. "Think she'll close her eyes when I say grace?"

"Not if she thinks you're peeking to find out."

"Then maybe we should keep ours open. Give her some incentive to shut hers out of defiance."

Her carefree mood suddenly disappeared, and the chuckle in her voice was gone when she said, "I'm very worried about her, Matt."

"I know you are." He searched her eyes and nodded sympathetically while his fingers pulsed at the tips, begging for a more personal acquaintance with her skin.

"I won't ask what the situation is," he said quietly. "Not unless it's something you need, or want, to share. But I've seen that expression you're wearing too many times. It's one parents have when they feel they're dealing with a problem bigger than themselves. Just try to remember that you're not alone with the difficulty you're facing."

"I know I'm not the only one with a problem child."

"That's not what I meant." He dabbed at the moisture in the corner of her eye. "You have strength inside you. Trust it. Have faith."

"I am strong," she said slowly. "At least I try to be. But as for faith..."An edge of bitterness crept into her soft, alluring features.

"Where is your faith, Dee?"

"I lost it years ago. In my fellow man anyway."

"In life?"

"Sometimes I think so."

"But what about faith in yourself?"

"That's something I'm struggling with."

"Then join the club. Everyone does from time to time."

Her narrowed gaze challenged his claim. "Maybe most people, but you don't qualify, do you?"

"That's news to me. We're talking about being human, and I do qualify, the same as you or anyone else." Times like this he wished he didn't. He wished he were God. Then he'd have the power to make what was bad go away and assure Dee that everything would be all right. But life just wasn't that neat. He wasn't God and the world held no guarantees.

Especially for a wayward minister who had been expelled from his former church for being a heretic.

"You're good at your Job, Matthew, you know that?"

"I'm afraid not everyone would agree, but I'm glad you believe so. Maybe you'll visit next Sunday and tell everyone what a great sermon I preach."

"Trying to fill an empty pew?" She smiled slightly and he knew a powerful want to help her shine in the face of adversity.

"The front rows tend to be the most available. Can you imagine what that does to my ego when everyone moves as far back from me as they can get? You'd think I didn't shower or gargle before ringing the bells."

"Maybe you need an incentive. Something like bonus points at the Pearly Gates."

"How about a pot luck lunch next week? All you can eat and there's no charge."

"If I didn't know better, I'd take that as a bribe."

"And a bribe it is. Just goes to prove how devious we ministers can get to beat the competition when a prospective member moves to town."

"And are you... devious, Reverend?" She touched his hand and grinned, a feminine curve of the lips that was too genuine and naturally sensual to pass for coy.

Matthew couldn't answer. There was a tightness in his chest that made even breathing difficult. Too many questions were barreling through his brain; too many sensations were erupting from her light, impulsive touch.

He'd never experienced anything like this before, and his experience was not shallow. How incredibly... incredible. It felt almost... divine? Yes, divine, and preordained.

"Umm... Matthew?" Her voice was soft. "If you wipe my face one more time, I'll be so clean that I'll squeak louder than the kids' floors."

He paused in mid-stroke. He wanted to kiss her. Thoroughly. Full on the lips. A lingering exploration that gave no pretense to chastity or virtuous restraint.

He dropped the cloth and slowly traced her parted lips with his fingertip, signaling his intent. Her eyes dilated until they were almost black. Matt savored the anticipation of their mouths melding.

"Rev. Matthew! Rev. Matthew, c'mon! Let's burn some pigskin." Jason's voice and the sound of his footsteps running across the living room floor shattered the silence.

"I think you're being paged." Dee sounded relieved, yet her expression matched his own disappointment.

"For once I wish I didn't have call waiting." The mood had been broken, but not the want. He ran a fingertip over her bottom lip, then pushed away from the sink and turned as Jason appeared in the doorway. "I've got a pack of gum that says you can't beat me outside," he said to the boy.

"Gum? You're on, Rev. Matthew." Jason spun around and raced away.

With a smile, Matthew faced Dee. "Bought us five more minutes."

"Pot luck lunches and gum. Really, Reverend, this habit you have of bribing..." Her laugh was shaky. So were her hands when he pressed them between his. "What's next? A six-pack of soda or—my goodness, don't tell me you might graduate to candy bars."

He didn't want to engage in more easy banter. Indeed, he viewed his conduct with Dee as very serious business.

"We need to talk about what happened before Jason interrupted."

"There's nothing to discuss." She jerked her hands from his. "Because nothing happened."

"Unfortunately." He studied her flushed face, the way she was suddenly fiddling with a chipped nail and evading his eyes. "I hope I didn't upset you."

"What's to be upset about?"

"You confided in me."

"A lot of people confide in you."

"Yes. And when they do, I listen, I advise, offer a prayer, then leave it at that. We both know I didn't in this case. If you've got a problem with the way I touched you, I'd like you to tell me."

"Why?" She went very still, then met his gaze. "Conscience bothering you?"

"Not at all." He traced the mouth he still desired in the most intense way. "The reason I asked is because unless you have objections, what didn't happen, will,"

"You certainly sound sure of yourself." Her lips moved beneath his fingertip. She made no attempt to break the contact, though her eyes were wary. "Aren't you taking a lot for granted?"

If there was one thing he excelled at, Matthew knew it lay in his ability to sense people out. He drew upon his seasoned skill and honed in on Dee.

She was scared of something. Emotional involvement? Yeah, he'd lay money that she'd been burned. But it was more than that. He pondered the mixed signals she sent: a challenging glare, desirous gaze, and a look that tugged at his heart because it was lost and alone and so poorly masked by bravado. He perceived a woman of depth and heart. One she was doing her best to harden, but without much success.

He didn't have the whole picture, but he grasped enough to know it would take a special man, a patient man, to scale those invisible walls and get close to a woman he concluded would prove well worth the wait.

Matthew nodded knowingly, then walked away.

When he was at the kitchen door she called to him.

"You never answered me, Rev. Peters. What makes you so sure that what didn't happen has a snowball's chance in hell to—"

"I think you know the answer, Dee." Glancing over his shoulder, he tossed her a smile. "It's inside you, where all of them really are."

Dee stared at the vacant doorway for a long time. She didn't want to delve deeply where he'd suggested she find her answers. It was too tender in that region, with her heart betrayed, nearly mangled, and doing its best to limp along until time, perhaps, healed it.

But time was borrowed for a woman on the run. And enigmatic ministers who could make her ache for a kiss, and share his sense of peace and solidity, spelled emotional danger.

Dee suddenly realized she was tracing her lips with a fingertip and pretending it was his. Carefully and quickly, while she dared, she searched that wounded place he'd unexpectedly touched. It still vibrated in response to his nearness, the soothing yet arousing timbre of his voice, but most of all to the moment when he'd made her feel she wasn't alone and her fears bowed to a kind of strength she had never met.

Deciding she'd explored inside more than what was wise, she quickly shut the lid on her heart.

But not before she found an answer that left her stomach churning and her pulse tripping.

Rev. Matthew Peters intended to kiss her, and soon. And that kiss, she was certain, would hold the power to restore some of the faith she'd lost in men.

Chapter 3

Dee was grateful for two things: Loren remaining silent during their meal, and her having changed her tank top for a loose cotton blouse. Since the neighborhood grocery closed at six p.m. on Sundays and there was little in the pantry, they'd had no choice but to go out to eat.

The Talk of the Town Restaurant was aptly named, Dee decided, judging from the curious glances sent their way. And Matthew apparently knew the entire population of Hayes, because everyone waved at him. His return wave was then taken as an entree to meet the newest citizens, who were trapped in a booth.

Between introductions Dee concluded they were the talk of the town. Everyone was aware of who she was, but they weren't exactly clear about what had drawn her there. They appeared friendly; she had a stiff mouth from forcing smiles. They were curious; she was tired of rambling off pat answers.

Matthew was a godsend throughout the grueling meal. He excelled in his ability to smooth out awkward conversations, usually with a concerned question about this person's health or how that one's corn crop was faring.

"Dessert, kids?" Matt stacked his empty plate on theirs and handed the dishes to the waitress clearing the table. "Darlene always puts extra cherries on the hot fudge sundaes."

"Can I have extra whipped cream too?" Jason looked hopefully at Darlene, who agreed without a pause.

"What about you, Loren?"

"I'm not a kid," she muttered with a surly expression on her face.

"None for Loren, I guess." Matthew appeared not to have taken offense and promptly turned his attention to Dee.

"I don't care for any either," she quickly replied. Dessert would be an hour alone with Matthew. Dessert would be a good-night kiss from him.

"Warm?" He leaned closer and studied her face. "You look a little flushed. Dee. I hope you're not ill."

Reaching across the table, he pressed his palm to her forehead.

"I'm fine, really. It's just a little stuffy in here." Though with her stomach jumping and her head dizzy with sensations, she did wonder if she
was
ill.

"Suffocating
might better describe it." As quickly as his palm had touched her, it was gone. "You haven't had five uninterrupted minutes since we sat down."

As if to prove his point, another visitor—Mrs. Henderson—came by. "Well, I do declare, if it's not Rev. Matthew." Her very friendly smile perceptibly changed when she regarded his companions. "Oh, my, and he's here with my new neighbors."

As if the old biddy hadn't noticed before she marched her butt over, Dee thought distastefully, but forced a polite nod.

"Then you know Dee and Jason and Loren."

"Yes." Mrs. Henderson eyed Loren's bosom. "Enjoy your stroll today, Loren?"

"Probably as much as you enjoyed hacking your flowers, Mrs. Henderson. Did you know you've got a big black streak on your shirt? Must be from digging in the dirt."

"What?" Mrs. Henderson searched for the stain in earnest. "Where? Where's the dirt?"

"Just kidding." Loren grinned and plucked a cherry from Jason's sundae.

Horrified, Dee glanced at Matthew, silently begging him to intercede because she was beyond speech. Only he was pressing a napkin to his mouth to cover a cough that sounded suspiciously closer to a guffaw.