Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
His brown eyes softened. “What brought you here?”
“To the meeting?” I asked for clarification.
“Yeah.”
They had no issue getting right to the point.
Why was I here? To lust after a hot priest wasn’t the answer I needed to give. But what was it? Mourning the girl I had once been?
I pulled my bottom lip through my teeth and then let it free before deciding to go with, “My fiancé was shot and killed in front of me in the parking lot of a bar.”
Just calling Crosby my fiancé made me feel like a fraud. He’d never proposed, although I had grown up believing we were already engaged. If he had lived, he would have broken up with me for the baby momma.
“That’s”—he blew out a breath—“rough.”
He had no idea.
“Hey, I’m Mary.” A woman with short auburn hair, which had a wild, curly windblown look, straightened the funky blue glasses perched on her freckle-covered nose as she took the chair across from me.
Although her smile wasn’t fake, her eyes did flicker over to Crow.
Were all the women looking to hook up here?
“Saylor,” I supplied, not sure she cared if I said more or not. She was clearly here for Crow, not me.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, then sighed as she looked at my hair. “Please tell me those are extensions.”
I touched a lock of hair draped over my shoulder. “This?”
She nodded.
“No. The hair is real,” I replied, but seeing as she now looked like I had kicked her puppy, I pointed at my lashes. “These are extensions.”
She let out a small laugh. “Thanks, if that was an attempt to make me feel better, but those dimples outweigh it. What about the blue eyes? That might even out the dimples.”
“Sorry. I was born with the blue eyes.”
Her shoulders drooped. “You’re too young for that body to have been bought. I think I hate you.”
I motioned to her hair. “Your hair is awesome. It’s unique. Mine is common.”
The small blush on her cheeks from my compliment made me feel good. How odd. I wasn’t sure I’d ever complimented another female before who reacted like that…what was the word…humble?
“You think?” she asked almost hesitantly.
“Yes. And I’ve always wanted freckles.” I was enjoying this.
She ducked her head. “I don’t know why.”
“Mary!” Sibby called. “Can you come mix up some more lemonade?”
The redhead nodded and stood up quickly. She glanced back at me with one more flicker to Crow. “I’m glad you’re here, Saylor,” she replied as she hurried off to do Sibby’s bidding.
“That was real nice of you,” Crow said beside me.
I glanced over at him, trying to decide if I was annoyed or not that he was mentioning it, as if I had done a good deed. “What? Pointing out the facts?”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “Women who look like you don’t typically see the beauty in those who don’t have the same stunning attributes.”
I turned in my seat toward him, still trying to decide what he meant by that. “I’m not sure I understand what you are getting at.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”
Okay, maybe I did, but he hadn’t had to say it like that.
“Crow, Saylor.”
The smooth, deep voice belonging to the reason I had come tonight had me swinging my attention back to the spot Mary had just vacated.
Father Jude stood there, making black slacks entirely too sexy, staring down at me. “It’s time to eat. I thought I’d come get you and walk you through the line.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine. The green color was disarming with those thick black lashes.
“Thank you,” I replied, standing up.
For a millisecond, I caught him. It was so quick that unless you were looking for it, you’d have missed it. But Father Jude’s gaze had checked me out. I was feeling more confident about my sundress.
“It was nice talking to you, Saylor,” Crow said, reminding me that he was there.
I felt a twinge of guilt for forgetting him. But when a gorgeous man with eyes like an evergreen and a jaw chiseled like that of a Michelangelo sculpture gave you attention, it was distracting. Even a gently bred Southern woman had her limits.
I looked down at Crow, flashing him a smile. “Same.”
He smirked as if he knew I was lusting after the priest. But then I had a feeling every female in here was doing the same. Except for Lora Gail, who had to at least be sixty.
I walked around the table to meet Father Jude, who was watching me.
“Crow isn’t much of a talker. I think he might have said more to you than he has the six months he’s been coming here.”
I scrunched my nose. “Really? I thought he was rather chatty.”
Father Jude’s mouth did this thing where the corners curled up ever so slowly, and his eyes held a spark of amusement. It was what could only be labeled as a wet panty trigger. Because one of those directed at you, and that was exactly what happened. Panties instantly wet.