away and look at the clock. She gasps and jumps from my arms and the couch and quickly starts to pick up her clothes.
“Crap!” she gasps. I grin. It’s fucking adorable that even after all of my corrupting, or even with her being naked with my cum still on her tongue, she won’t bring herself to swear.
“I have to run before my parents wonder where the heck I am.”
She yanks her clothes back on, to my dismay, and then leans into me to kiss me deeply. I grab her and make a move to slip my hand under her skirt, but she giggles and pushes my hand away as she stands.
“That was a lot of fun,” she murmurs softly.
“Uh, yeah,” I chuckle.
She giggles and beams at me. “Later?”
“Hell yes.”
She blushes when I stand and draw her into me, kissing her deeply again before I finally let her go. She holds my gaze before she turns and opens the screen door to the Winnebago and slips out. I watch her skip across the field back to her truck, me still nude and leaning against the doorframe shaking my head.
Damn.
This is nothing I was looking for. Hell, I don’t even know what “this” is. It’s casual, but not. It’s a “teaching arrangement,” but that’s bullshit. No, when I watch her walking away from me, and I feel that dull ache in my chest at her not being here with me right now, I know damn well this isn’t remotely casual.
But I better figure out what is, and fast.
“Afternoon, preacher!”
I smile and give a wave to the man across the street who waves at me. Then at the other couple who says hello. It keeps on happening, until it feels like every fucking person on Main Street in downtown Canaan is there to say hi and shake my damn hand.
It’s been a few hours and two sermons since Delilah left my Winnebago earlier, and my head still isn’t on straight. Something’s amiss, or changed, with me. For one, all I can think of is her, but even more confusing is that all day, and all day yesterday, I’ve really just been genuinely preaching. Actually, since my first day here when she fell into my world, I’m basically just actually being a preacher of the Lord’s words. Okay sometimes they’re made-up words that just sound good, but still.
I’m not actually selling shit to them, either. I mean, sure, there’s the collections plates, and the baptism I’m still giving. But no “miracle” cures. None of Kane’s bullshit arthritis “medicine.” No pieces of wood from that barn I found in Minnesota that I claim are pieces of Peter the Apostle’s literal coffin. None of that shit.
I walk down the pretty little tree-lined streets of Canaan, saying hello to every damn person I see, and it suddenly hits me: I like this. I like that everyone says hi to me and wants to smile at me. I like that I haven’t really sewn any ill-will here, or even done much ripping off. And really, I just like it here—this town, I mean. For a second, I can almost see myself just living here, permanently.
…For a man who hasn’t stopped moving in years, trust me, that’s a foreign concept. It’s also fucking with my head.
I scowl, and I decide to do the grocery shopping I came to town to do is fast as possible so that I can get my ass out of here. But suddenly, I hear my name once again.
“Gabriel!”
I frown, and I pretend I don’t hear it, until I hear the footsteps behind me, and the voice call my name again.
“Wait, Gabriel!”
Shit. I turn, and sure enough, it’s Paul Somerset. I force a smile to my face.
“Hey, Paul, how are you?”
“Great, Gabriel, great. How’s your day?”
Amazing. Your sister swallowed my cum after I made her orgasm all over my mouth, three times.
“Fantastic,” I smile. “Just fantastic.”
He nods. “That’s great. Well, hey, could…” he frowns. “Could I follow up with you on that church idea?”
Right. Shit.
I sigh. “Paul, you know what, I need to—”
“Could we sit?”
“Uhhh, sure?” I wince. Fuck, I do not need to get pulled into this shit right now. Or, you know, ever.
“But Paul, I really do need to—”
“Just one minute of your time, sir, I promise. I know this could be good.”
“Yeah, um, one minute.”
He grins. “Fantastic. Here, over here.”
I groan inwardly as he drags me over to the Morning Glory Cafe and sits at one of their outdoor tables before gesturing