The door opened, and Cash leaned against the frame, now dressed in jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that hugged his broad chest. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends.
“Sorry about earlier,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly sorry. “I don’t like people trying to psychoanalyze me.”
I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral even though I felt as if I was going to explode. “I understand. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
He studied me for a moment, those green eyes searching my face. “What are you working on?”
“Sermon prep,” I lied, gesturing vaguely at the closed Bible.
Cash stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. My heart rate doubled instantly.
“You know what I think?” he said, moving closer to the desk. “I think you’re hiding in here because you can’t handle being around me.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s not true.”
“No?” He circled the desk slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. “Then why are you gripping that desk like it’s the only thing keeping you upright?”
I hadn’t realized my knuckles had gone white against the wood. I forced myself to relax my grip, but it was too late. He’d seen right through me.
“Now you’re analyzing me,” I said, forcing a weak smile.
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
“Cash,” I said, my voice embarrassingly soft, “what do you want from me?”
He stopped beside my chair, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “I’ve made it pretty clear what I want.” His voice dropped to that low, gravelly register that sent shivers down my spine. “Question is, do you have the balls to admit what you want?”
I should have stood up, put distance between us. Should have reminded him that I was his host, his pastor. Should have maintained some semblance of professional boundaries.
Instead, I just looked up at him, fear making my voice tremble. “I can’t do that, Cash.”
“Can’t be gay and a pastor?” he scoffed.
“It’s not that,” I replied quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was prejudice or anything. “Well, to be honest, that’s about ten percent of the problem. I’m new in this town and I want people to welcome me before I start challenging some of their viewpoints.”
Cash shrugged that bit of information off and got right to the heart of the matter. “What’s the other ninety then?”
I stared up at him, the truth tumbling from my lips before I could stop myself. “Last time I let myself do this… it cost me…a lot.”
“Let yourself do what? Fuck?”
“Get involved with someone I want to fix.”
Cash made a face and took a step back. Clearly that wasn’t the answer he was expecting.
“I don’t think there’s anythingwrongwith you,” I added quickly, knowing how it sounded. “But I can see you’re hurting. Everyone can. You have a wound a mile deep and… God help me, all I want to do is make it better for you.”
“I don’t need savin’, Pastor,” he grunted, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m just fine on my own.”
“Then why are you in my study?” I pushed back. “If you’re so good on your own, why do you keep tormenting me?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I… I told you. I’m horny. That’s all. And I’ve got nothin’ better to do while I’m here. Besides, you’re… well…”
“Convenient?” I offered.
“I was goin’ to say beautiful,” he corrected. “But you’re not wrong either.”
I felt my heart stutter at that. Beautiful? No one had called me that before. Handsome, sure. Attractive, occasionally. But beautiful? The word hung in the air between us, softening something in my chest that I’d been trying desperately to keep at bay.
