Chapter 14

Evangelina

The way Father Carmichael stares at me should be a sin. Seriously. It’s like he wants to devour me in one single serving, and honestly I want the same thing, but maybe it’s just my imagination playing tricks on me.

Even though he’s a priest, he’s also a man too, right?

With certain urges and needs.

Desires.

I wasn’t lying when I said I could give up sex for good. I’ve never known that soul-shaking sex before. Heck, with Christopher I’d close my eyes and beg for it to be over quickly. It’s sad really, and no wonder why he left me.

Our sex life was never anything great. Even when we first met right out of college. I still never opened up to him fully. I never let myself truly relax. I felt like sex was a chore, and never got any gratification out of it.

Sure, there’s been times when I was too drunk, or we were lost in the moment and the sex was really good, but it was never earth-shattering.

“I want to help you get your son back,” Father Carmichael says, his eyes full of hope and something else I can’t quite decipher.

“I appreciate that. Honestly at this point I don’t even know how. All I know is Christopher doesn’t like to lose, and he’ll fight me with everything he has to not lose in court. Even if what we’re fighting for is something he doesn’t really want.”

“I’m so sorry about that,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder at the monitors briefly before settling his eyes back on me. “Looks like all the Delgados left. Here’s the money promised,” he says, reaching into his pocket to pull out a wad of cash.

I almost don’t want to take it from him, wishing I had the means to help him out of the kindness of my own heart, but I need the money.

It’s sad how people can become such a slave to money. How it can dictate everything in your life.

I wish I never had to worry about money. I wish I could have a never-ending supply of it. How nice would that be?

I laugh a little at my thought, and Father Carmichael raises a brow.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just wish I didn’t need the money so badly.”

Father Carmichael stands from his chair, and crosses the small space between us. “Don’t ever apologize for needing money. I am grateful you helped me tonight. I can already tell I’m going to get further along in this mission with your help than without it. So, I’m happy to pay.”

“Where does it come from? I ask him.

“The money?”

I nod. “Is it from the donations?”

He shakes his head. “No, even though this fight is one for the church, I’d never use the church to fund it. It’s coming out of my own pocket.” He presses the cash in my hand. “But, I’ve got plenty, so please take it.”

A tear leaves my eye, as I stand from the couch. “I really appreciate it.” Pride is a silly thing.

“You did really good tonight.” His eyes rake over me. “You definitely look the part of a Greedy Girl.”

I swear something happens to my body as his eyes rake over me. It makes me almost mewl at the sight of the fire burning there. It makes me wish he didn’t take a vow to be celibate.

However, it’s probably best he did.

There’s no part of me that can even entertain the idea of having a relationship right now. Even if I know the sex would be insane between us.

It would, right?

I bet it would.

“You like me with the wig?” I ask with a small laugh.

He touches a few strands, lifting it lightly. “You’re definitely hot, but so much prettier with the long blonde hair.”

I smile. “So, Father Carmichael prefers blondes, huh?”

He nearly growls, his eyes widening momentarily. “I didn’t say that.”

“It’s okay. It can be our little secret.” I give him a wink.

His eyes flash with something as he steps an inch closer. “Yeah?”

Oh my god. My heart rate kicks up a notch and my throat goes completely dry. “Yeah,” I whisper back, my hands trembling in his presence.

“God forgive me,” he says, and then he crashes his lips to mine.

And in all things holy his kiss is soul-crushing. His tongue presses against my lips, begging to be let in, and I open, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He snakes his hands around my waist and tugs me flush against his body, and I can feel the hardness there, pressing into my belly.

He’s hard.

So. So hard.

It’s like my mind can’t process this, and I keep kissing him. Our tongues meeting together, tracing patterns, and exploring each other’s mouths. My mind grows fuzzy with lust, and I think I hear myself moan.

Father Carmichael’s hands travel lower, grazing the top of my ass, and oh no , I just called him Father Carmichael in my mind.

This is so wrong.

I break the kiss, pushing on his chest for him to step back. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

His eyes connect with mine, and there’s something hidden deep within. Like a secret he doesn’t want me to know. “No, I’m sorry, Eva. You don’t deserve this.” He brushes a hand through his hair and leaves the room in a hurry, and I’m left standing here, wondering how I’ll ever forget that kiss.

It takes a few seconds for my breathing to return to normal, and for my heartbeat to steady, but once it does I leave the room, heading down to the lockers to gather my things to head home for the evening. My mind a complete mess.

As I sit in my kitchen the next morning, my mind replays the kiss Father Carmichael and I shared. It wasn't just a kiss; it was a moment charged with emotions I hadn't felt in years. His lips were warm and soft. The way he gently cupped my face, his fingers trembling slightly, conveyed a mixture of hesitation and desire. Should I call him Benedict? I have to. The name makes him seem more human, more like the man who held me with such tenderness, rather than the priest bound by vows. Calling him Benedict makes me feel less guilty, as if by doing so, I can momentarily forget the sacred commitments we both shattered in that fleeting yet profound embrace.

I can’t get his blue eyes out of my mind. The way his hands felt on my body.

I’m going to hell.

I think about my day ahead, how I’ll have to work at the club tonight but not in the Delgado’s room. Not with Benedict.

I’ve got just a regular serving shift, yet my nerves are completely shot. Will I even be able to concentrate on work with the memories of what happened in that room between Benedict and me?

I’m guessing I won’t because I’m barely able to think about anything right now. I glance at my phone, wishing I could call him and ask him what that kiss meant.

But I won’t.

I should know that kiss meant nothing and he’s a priest, so I’m sure he’s feeling guilty over it. He probably doesn’t ever want to see me again.

I don’t blame him. I should have pushed him away. I should have known better.

What is wrong with me?

I move through my house like a zombie, cleaning a few of Nate's things as I think about work this evening. A small part of me wishes Benedict would be there.

Even though he has no reason to be. I’m sure this one kiss meant more for me than him. Any man, priest or not, would fail to succumb to the pressures of kissing a woman in his situation. He sits there most nights, watching couples fuck. Of course he’s going to get turned on. Hell, I’m turned on just by thinking about it.

Him watching others. Jerking his dick in his fist.

Oh my god.

I can’t believe I just thought that.

I’m definitely going to hell.

My phone rings, and I glance down to see who it is. I roll my eyes when I see it’s Christopher.

“Hello,” I say, my tone already edged with annoyance.

“Need a favor,” Christopher responds, his voice matching my irritation.

“What?” I ask curtly, not in the mood for small talk.

“Can you take Nate tonight? I’ve got an important client in town, and Jessica’s busy.”

I clench my teeth, resisting the urge to berate Christopher. I should have custody of Nate, given how often these so-called important meetings pop up. Countless nights I lay awake while we were married, waiting for him to come home from one of these meetings . More often than not, they were excuses for him to be with other women. He’d stumble in, piss drunk, reeking of cheap perfume.

But I can’t go there now. Christopher holds all the cards, and I can’t risk antagonizing him.

I think about work and how I’ll need to call out, feeling a pang of guilt about letting the club down. Adele recently promoted me to Greedy Girl, per Devereaux Huxley’s request, a significant step up, and I don’t want to betray her trust. But Nate comes first.

“Sure,” I say, not needing to think twice. “I can grab him right now?”

“Yeah, the sooner the better,” Christopher says, hanging up abruptly without a word of thanks.

I swallow my frustration and quickly get ready, hurrying out the door to pick up my son. I’m excited to see Nate, and luckily for me, Adele is understanding when I call out.

As I drive to Christopher’s house, my mind drifts back to the kiss shared between Benedict and me. The memory is vivid, electric, but it’s a line I can’t afford to cross again. I won't be the reason a priest loses everything he stands for.

I shake off the thought and refocus on where my priorities need to be: with Nate. His well-being comes first, always.

When I pull up to Christopher's house, I see Nate sitting on the front porch step, looking small and vulnerable. Christopher stands next to his Mercedes, his posture impatient, ready to bolt as soon as I take Nate off his hands.

“Hey there,” I say, stepping out of my car with a forced cheerfulness.

“Mommy!” Nate screams, bounding off the porch and leaping into my arms. His enthusiasm melts away some of my tension.

Christopher gives me a curt nod before sliding into his Mercedes and speeding off without a single word. I suppress a sigh, focusing on Nate.

I help Nate into his booster seat, making sure he’s secure, and place his backpack beside him. “Ready to go home?” I ask, emphasizing the word 'home' to make it clear that my place is where we belong, not Christopher’s.

Nate nods eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. “Yes, Mommy!”

I close the door, taking a moment to breathe in the relief that comes from having Nate with me. As I drive away, I glance in the rearview mirror and see him happily rummaging through his backpack. This is where my focus needs to be, not on past kisses or broken promises, but on my son and the life we’re building together.