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I shake my head. “No, it’s alright, thanks.”
She smiles. “Okay, I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll meet you in, say, half an hour?”
“Perfect.”
Taking a deep breath, I open the car door and step onto the sidewalk as Eva drives away with a wave goodbye.
Squaring my shoulders, I make my way toward the store entrance. This is it. Time to make Fordhurst truly feel like home. It’s a bold move, but there’s something about Fordhurst that feels different. I hope it’s not because of the priest who ate me out in the church twice.
I’m hardly focusing as I walk into the hardware store and slam straight into someone. “Oh my God, I’m...” I trail off when I see those dark, sparkling eyes staring at me.
“Madison? What are you doing here?” Dante asks.
I swallow hard. “I need some paint and other things for the cottage. It’s very tired.” My burrow furrows. “Why are you here?”
A chill runs down my spine as I step back, shaking off his touch. “I’m picking up some supplies for the church,” Dante replies, a slight smirk playing on his lips, but his eyes are intense, almost predatory. I can’t help but feel like he’s lying.
“Funny,” I retort, “I didn’t think the church needed... what is that?” I nod toward the item he’s holding. “A roll of duct tape?”
He chuckles. “Well, even a house of God has its own practical needs.”
“Does it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “And here I thought you just prayed for everything to stay in place.”
His laughter echoes through the quiet store. “Oh no, it’s a common misconception. We also rely on duct tape for our miracles.”
“Is that so?” I respond, my voice shaky. There’s a strange tension in the air, thick and electrifying.
“Yes,” he answers, holding my gaze. “You’d be surprised how many uses I can find for duct tape.”
There’s a suggestive heat underlying his words, stirring up both desire and unease. The image of the duct tape in his hands morphs into something wildly inappropriate. In my mind’s eye, I see those strong hands using the tape to bind my wrists together while I’m naked, leaving me at his mercy.
“Well, I best find my paint,” I say, tearing my gaze from his and hurrying down an aisle.
The echoes of his laughter, the memory of his heated voice, and the image he conjured in my mind make it impossible to shake off the discomfort.
I don’t make it far before I hear his footsteps behind me. “Need help choosing a paint?”
“I didn’t realize priests were also experts in interior decor.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me,” he says, his voice dipping low. He’s too close, his presence overwhelming. “I haven’t always been a priest, you know?”
I swallow hard, turning to face him. My eyes dip to the ink visible above his priest collar. “I guessed.” I shake my head. “What did you do before?”
He leans close, his warm breath tickling my ear as he whispers, “I was a bad man, Madison. A man who wouldn’t think twice about breaking apart a girl like you.” His words should scare me, but they don’t.
His dark eyes swallow me whole, and I feel the pull again, an attraction that terrifies and thrills me. It’s wrong, I know it is, but something about Dante is utterly captivating. Fighting the flutter in my stomach, I reply to his question, “Well, I suppose I could use some advice.”
“Advice?” Dante’s eyes sparkle with amusement, “Well, let me give you one piece of advice. Always pick the color that speaks to you, not the trend. Unless, of course, you’re a fan of avocado green and mustard yellow from the 70s.”
I laugh. “What, you don’t think I’d look good surrounded by mustard yellow?”
His smile broadens, making his face more gorgeous than I believed possible. “You’d look good surrounded by anything.”
Flattery isn’t something I’m used to. My heart skips, and I shake my head, trying to shake off the feeling. “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing a priest should say to a woman.”
“Why is that?” Dante retorts, his gaze steady on me. The amused edge to his tone is gone, replaced by something darker. I feel my heart race, the fluttering in my stomach growing. “A priest can’t compliment a woman?”
“Not a woman who he ate out only last night in the middle of the church,” I whisper.
