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Will I ever remember not to call him sexy?
The new, attractive priest. That’s better.
What in the ever-loving God is wrong with me? This cannot be normal. I need to head home and not be sitting down with Father Lachlan, I mean Lachlan, flirting. If that’s even what’s really happening.
That can’t be it. I’m so out of practice I’ve got to be mistaken. Lachlan is simply being nice to his new parishioner, and I’m overreacting to this odd form of tension.
He’s a priest. I’m married… well, at least to his knowledge, I am. I am technically married but not for much longer after the christening of my new rug. I am never going to forget that part.
Why was he staring at me in the church? Why do I care? I need attention. That’s all this is.
I’m attention-starved and am turning a few stares and glances into something it’s not when I have way bigger problems in my life I should be dealing with. Even on my worst days, I’m usually not this frantic of a mess. Making up stories of stolen glances and longing from random men.
Lachlan lets out a small laugh before taking another sip of his whiskey.
“Sorry,” I say with a light laugh.
He just caught me lost in thought. If he was actually attracted to me before, that just went out the window.
“Are you enjoying Charleston?” I ask to steer the conversation away from anything to do with Lachlan and me.
“Very much so—it’s different than I expected, but I suppose I wasn’t expecting much,” he shares with a shrug.
“You weren’t expecting much from one of the best cities in the country?” I tease playfully.
He gives me another chuckle in response before taking a sip of his whiskey.
“When you put it like that, you’re right, Avery. I should have had some expectations.”
My smile widens. Lachlan’s face is stunning. His chiseled jawline creates a beautiful definition that matches well with the deep green eyes I’ve been swimming in.
“You’re different than I expected,” I blurt out.
Lachlan raises an eyebrow.
“Is that so?”
I nod my head slowly.
“You weren’t expecting much from your new priest?”
My smile returns.
“When you put it like that, you’re right. I should have had some expectations,” I answer.
Lachlan grins in response.
“Well…” I stammer.
Pulling myself back to reality, I remember I have to get out of here. When I am actually single, I’ll have to practice before going out to find someone to sleep with, never mind expect to date.
He eyes me, clearly wondering what I’m going to say next.
“Have a good rest of your Sunday, Father Lachlan.” I half-smile as I pull out two twenty-dollar bills from my purse to pay for my two martinis.
I place them on the bar and signal to the bartender where I’ve left the money.
“Lachlan,” he rasps.
