AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I won’t let him avoid me.
My navigation tells me I’ve arrived, and I park on the sidewalk next to a house at the top of the hill. Holy shit. This house has to be worth at least a couple million. And here I thought my dad was exaggerating when he said Brandon was a multimillionaire.
As I approach the front door, a tingle runs over my skin. I’m going to see Brandon’s private space. His home. Why does the thought of it give me a naughty thrill?
After I ring the bell, the door opens, and his huge form hovers over me. He smells damn good, like he just took a shower.
His eyes widen. “What are you doing here?”
I let my lids grow heavy as I smile. “Delivering your books.”
“What happened to Harper?”
“She had a final to study for. I told her it was no problem for me.”
He looks at me skeptically, probably because I infused such a smarmy cheerfulness into my voice. I can’t help it.
I’m angry.
“You’re avoiding me,” I say.
His expression shutters. “I hadn’t figured out what to say to you yet. I’ve been praying about it.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Did God tell you to fire me?”
His eyes grow huge. “Of course not. I would never fire you for something that’s my fault.”
“It’s just a volunteer position. I don’t really need it.”
We stare at each other in charged silence. Then his eyes flicker to the books in my hand, as if he’s ready for the conversation to be over.
“Well, I’ll leave you alone to pray,” I say quickly. “Here you go.”
Something flashes in his eyes as I hand him the books. “You want to come in for a second so I can thank you with a cup of coffee?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” He smiles. “I have French vanilla creamer.”
My tummy flutters. It’s sweet that he thinks I like that creamer. The only reason I use so much of it at the church is because the coffee is usually sour from sitting in the carafe for so many hours. I glance through the doorway at the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean, and curiosity gets the better of me.
“That sounds good,” I say and follow him inside.
While he fetches my coffee, I try to absorb every inch of his home, wishing I could pour through his rooms and learn more about him. He has a minimalist style, with beige walls, abstract expressionist art, and scattered midcentury modern furniture. Why do the houses of rich people always look this way, as if they have to be completely scrubbed of humanity in order to look clean?
I spot a book lying on the coffee table. When I walk closer, I see that it’s about hiking the highest peaks in the world. I smile to myself. I’d love to go on a hike with him. Be a quiet presence while he—
Brandon emerges from the entryway with two steaming mugs, yanking me out of my silly fantasy.
“Your house is beautiful.” I hold the cup to my lips and blow on the hot liquid. “I’d never leave here if I had a view like this.”
His gaze drifts to the glass wall of ocean. “It’s surprising how soon you get used to it. Now it’s like beautiful wallpaper. I hardly even notice it.”
As I glance out at the water, I catch glimpses of sailboats bobbing in the distance. My God, how much wealth would it take to see a view like this as wallpaper? “You really are humble, Pastor. I had no idea your gym business wasthissuccessful.”
He smiles. “We had eighteen gyms total in California and Nevada when my partner bought me out.”
“Damn,” I mutter. “I thought there were just gyms in Santa Barbara and Goleta. You must be loaded. Why would you give all that up to make nothing as a pastor?”
