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He said he wouldn’t…consummate because of his vows, but, so does that mean forever? These are important questions and I’m caught up in how I feel and avoiding the glaring red flats flapping over his head.
He smirks giving me nothing to build on as he pulls up on the grass, and the ocean stretches in front of us like a metaphor for the rest of our lives. Ours to shape as we like. Ours to explore.
“I don’t own this land,” he says as he shifts the car into park. “But… Well, I might.”
“What? The church owns it, right?”
“The did, or do. It’s not a done deal yet so I don’t want to write checks my ass can’t cash, but it’s been a part of the plan for a while now especially when the renovation costs started to skyrocket. The church isn’t usually interested in selling old buildings or land, but this one costs a lot to keep for the few parishioners that use it. The population here has declined so much and lets face it, Maine is not going to see an population explosion anytime soon.” He pauses on that, his eyes licking up and down my body leaving fire in their wake and that ovarian flex I keep feeling returns.
“My grandmother has a lot of influence, that’s the meeting I was at for two days. Working out the details. She was there too, she’s made huge donations to the church. Makes a difference.”
“Wait, so you’re going to own all this? As, like, arch deacon or whatever?”
Please, just say you’re not going to be a priest. I’m sorry God, I don’t mean to steal him from you, but if you don’t ever make mistakes, then you put us together, so seal this freakin’ deal already, I’m dyin’ here.
Martin laughs. “I’d have the space to make a serious laboratory. Research, invent, maybe I could come up with a cure for cancer after all, or contribute to some developments that make a real difference in people’s lives around the world. My best friend has been pushing me to come partner with him. He has a big research supply company. That was always my dream. My other dream I mean.”
“And the church would fund all of this?”
“No. I… I have money, Kitty. A lot of money. Money isn’t the issue. When my grandfather—my mom’s father—died, he left a sizable fortune. He gave half to my grandmother and half to my mom, and she left all of hers to me. It’s in a trust. Since I took my vows, I haven’t touched it, so it’s technically mine, but not until I invoke the terms of the trust and take over as executor. It’s weird, semantics but I don’t’ want to be the asshole here, but I gave my life to the church, I didn’t really want to give them all my money. Even priests have secrets.”
Like me. Does that mean I’ll be a secret forever too?
“But it’s enough to buy this placeandfinance a company with your own lab and equipment to develop, like, whatever you’re thinking of developing? That’s serious fuck you money.”
“I love your dirty mouth.” He turns in the seat and reaches out to brush a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Is that how you know Hoover? Because you’re both super rich? Did you like, meet at a cocktail party on a yacht or something?”
“No. I don’tknowHoover, not really. Just enough for him to trust me with you.”
I think about that, then nod slowly. He’s always talked about trust, and I do trust him. I have to just go with that.
Looking around at the overlook, and the church buildings, the school, I get that image again, of raising a family here.
“It could work,” I say to myself. “Of course, I’d have to deal with Mom. And Hoover…”
“What could work?” Martin gives me a sexy smile and I decide to light this candle.
“You. Me. Here in this place. It needs work, but… We could be happy here.” I focus on his face. The twitch of his eyebrow, the way he grinds his teeth…
Before he can say anything, his phone rings from where it’s sitting in the console.
Bishop Murphy.
His body tenses, hand dropping from my face.
“I have to take this.” He says, leaving me dangling by a thin thread as he lifts the door handle and steps out into the grass,closing it behind him leaving me alone. Where it seems I am going to end up in all of this.
I’ve baited the hook enough. If this was real, he’d be commsumating all over the place right?
I mean you can have all the fun you want, as long as you don’t knock her up for the world to see.
Is that in the vow contract? Everything but the old dick in the babymaker?
My hopefulness crashes down crushing me with the reality I’ve been pushing away.
He’s the one that said how important vows are.
