The moment I shut the door to the parsonage behind me, the world went silent. I stopped for a moment, leaning against the frame, and let out a sigh of relief. I loved helping people, I truly did. But I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t thankful for Colt’s insistence. The break was much needed.
I made my way to the bathroom first, desperate for a hot shower. As I stripped off my clothes, I caught my reflection in the mirror and winced. Colt hadn’t been exaggerating. I looked like hell. Dark circles under my eyes, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a general pallor that spoke of too little sleep and too much stress.
The shower felt like heaven, hot water sluicing away days of grime and tension. I stood under the spray longer than necessary, letting my mind drift. Unbidden, thoughts of Cash floated to the surface. Where had he gone? Was he making any progress with selling the ranch? And why did I care so much about a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with me?
I toweled off and changed into fresh clothes, pajama pants and a simple t-shirt. But at the last moment I decided to allowmyself a little freedom and abandoned the t-shirt. I was home alone anyway and there was no need to look pastoral when I wasn’t on duty. The house was blissfully quiet as I padded to the kitchen, my stomach reminding me I’d skipped lunch. I made a simple sandwich and carried it to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a groan of relief.
For a while, I just sat there, savoring the silence and the taste of food that wasn’t donated casserole. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a moment to myself. The tornado had hit just days after my arrival, and it had been non-stop crisis management ever since.
I was halfway through my sandwich when I heard the front door open. Heavy footsteps in the entryway, then Cash appeared, freezing when he saw me sprawled on the couch and shirtless. I watched his eyes rake over me, the sight catching him off guard.
“Thought you’d be at the church,” he said, clearly surprised to find me home and half naked.
“Got relieved of duty,” I replied, wiping crumbs from my mouth. I tried to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks and the stirring in my pajama pants. Being caught like this wasn’t my plan, but I couldn’t deny it was more than a little exhilarating. “Colt Dawson showed up and practically ordered me to take a break.”
Cash’s eyebrows shot up. “Colt Dawson? The bull rider?”
“The very same. I was surprised to see him too. Apparently he’s friends with Caroline Baker,” I added, suddenly very aware of my bare chest. I resisted the urge to cover myself, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. “He’s helping out at the church while the rodeo school is closed.”
Cash’s gaze lingered on my torso a moment longer before he seemed to catch himself and looked away. “Small world,” he muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
I noticed he was carrying a manila folder tucked under his arm. “Any luck with the real estate agents?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Not really. Nobody’s jumpin’ at the chance to list a property that’s basically a pile of rubble with a foundation. One guy offered me about a third of what the land’s worth on the spot, but I told him to fuck off.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, setting my sandwich plate aside. “That’s rough.”
Cash shrugged, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. “It is what it is. Might have to stick around longer than I planned to sort things out.” He paused, glancing at me again. “If that’s a problem...”
“Not at all,” I assured him quickly. “Stay as long as you need. My home is yours.”
An awkward silence stretched between us. Cash stood in the doorway, looking like he wasn’t sure whether to join me or retreat to his room. I was about to offer him something to eat when he spoke again.
“You don’t look like a pastor,” he said bluntly.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s a pastor supposed to look like?”
“I don’t know. Old? With a gut and a bad comb-over? Not...” He gestured vaguely in my direction, then seemed to think better of it. “Never mind.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” I smiled, enjoying his discomfort more than I probably should have. “But I’m just a regular guy who happens to be a pastor.”
Cash snorted. “You call a six-packregular?” He seemed to realize what he’d said and quickly added, “I’m going to shower.”
Before I could respond, he disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone with my half-eaten sandwich and therealization that this grumpy cowboy was most definitely checking me out.
I heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on. Leaning back against the couch, I closed my eyes and tried not to think about Cash naked under the spray of hot water. It was inappropriate, unprofessional, and exactly the kind of thought I couldn’t seem to banish from my mind.
“God give me strength,” I muttered to myself, picking up my sandwich again. But then I put it back down. “I should put a shirt on,” I grumbled, forcing myself up from the couch.
I headed down the hall to my room, but only made it about halfway when I noticed the bathroom door had been left slightly ajar. Through the crack, I could see steam billowing out from the shower. I knew I should keep walking, should respect Cash’s privacy, but my feet stopped moving of their own accord. Temptation got the better of me.
The glass shower door was fogged, but not completely. I could see Cash’s silhouette through it, water cascading down his body as he tilted his head back. My mouth went dry. I should leave. This was wrong. I was a pastor, for heaven’s sake.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
As the steam shifted, I caught glimpses of his body. He was all tanned skin, broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, and a dusting of dark hair across his chest that trailed down his stomach. He turned slightly, and I saw the curve of his ass, firm and perfect. My heart hammered against my ribs.
When he reached for the soap and began to lather his chest, I felt myself growing hard in my pajama pants. It had been months since I’d been with anyone. Moving to a new town, starting a new position… romance hadn’t exactly been a priority. And now here I was, spying on my houseguest like some kind of pervert.
