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I smiled to myself as I wadded up the blanket and tucked it under my arm. I tossed it in the washing machine and started it up. Sierra had been doing my laundry recently, even though I told her not to bother, but having someone go out of their way to take care me was something new and made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
I rolled my eyes at myself as I walked into the living room. I was a chump. I was going in soft. I was, in all respects, in love.
But I hadn’t told her that. I didn’t plan for a long time. This was still so new to us, and I didn’t want to fuck anything up.
Sierra was curled up on the couch in a blanket with a bowl of popcorn as she fanned through one of the books she was reading for her book club. I eyed the cover, which was the torso of an impossibly buff man wearing nothing but a kilt.
“How’s your trash?” I asked her with a smirk as I walked into the kitchen.
“Trashy.” She chuckled, flipping a page. “Moira has interesting taste. It makes me wonder what she gets up to with Grant in their bedroom.”
I choked on the water I’d just sipped and turned to her. “Sierra.” I laughed, wiping my mouth. “Why do I feel like only a fraction of conversation at this book club has to do with the actual book?”
She blushed, setting her book down in her lap as she looked up at me. She was glowing. I guessed pregnancy did that to some people. She had been a little cranky recently, complaining about her new pants not fitting anymore and her body changing too fast, but I couldn’t resist her. I imagined my desire for her would only grow as she did. Her soft stomach had started to harden and round out just a touch. When I held her as we slept, I liked to rest my hand there every night.
“We do talk about the book.”
“Sure,” I teased, just as the washing machine started shaking and growling like I’d locked a full-grown bear inside of it instead of the new comforter. She peeked over the couch and furrowed her brow. “What is that?”
“I’m washing my new blanket for our bed,” I told her as I pulled some leftover Chinese food out of the fridge. She perked up at the sight of the take-out boxes. Chinese food was the only thing she’d been eating lately, other than fries with extra salt and the saltiest popcorn I’d ever tasted in my life. “What some?”
“Yeah,” she said a little breathlessly.
I fixed her a plate and brought it to her, sitting down beside her on the couch. She rested the plate on her knees and looked up at me for a moment before quickly looking away, as if she had to ask me something and changed her mind.
I’d noticed Sierra tended to do that a lot—refuse to say what’s on her mind.
“What?” I asked, then bit into a dumpling.
“Is there a Catholic church around here?”
“A Catholic church?” I set my fork down when I noticed another blush creep over her cheeks. “Yeah, actually. There’s one on the other side of town. Saint Andrew’s. It’s a small parish. Wes goes there with his mom every Sunday.”
She twirled her fork through her noodles but didn’t take a bite.
“Wanting to repent for reading Scottish romance porn?” I asked, trying to tease an answer out of her.
She gave me a feline smile and shook her head, chuckling a bit.
“I used to go to mass a few times a week back home. There was a church a few blocks away from my parents’ estate. I could walk there and no one would notice I was gone. I just… I miss that kind of quiet.”
I sat back against the cushions and watched several conflicting emotions flutter behind her eyes.
“I didn’t know you were religious.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m religious. Not like, super religious. I believe, though. And something about sitting in church and just being in the quiet with other people—being able to think, and feel however I want… It’s freeing. It helped me get through life with my parents, I guess.”
I smiled softly as she continued.
“No one cared about my reputation or how I was dressed. No one cared how much money my parents had or where I’d gone to school. No one cared that I was being courted by Jonah. I could just be… Sierra. Me.”
I shifted my weight so I was facing her. I had the sudden urge to lay everything out on the table. She was being open with me, after all.
“I’ve been a real shithead all my life,” I began, fighting the urge to smile when she gave me a knowing look. “I liked to get in fights and cause trouble. I tried to break George and Keely up last year.”
“Why?”
“Because… Look.” I set my plate down on the coffee table and face her fully, sliding my legs against hers. “My family was like yours in a way. Reputation meant everything in this town when I was growing up. I was fourteen when Keely came into the picture.”
