Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“Right, well, after Sunday, Canaan will once again be left without a shepherd,” Paul continues. “Now I personally would like to change that. I believe I’ve been put on this earth for the same reasons you’ve been, sir.”
Let’s hope not, for your sake, pal.
Paul takes a heavy breath. “Mr. Marsden?”
“Yes, Paul?” I smile flatly.
“I’d like to build a church, right here in Canaan.”
“Well, Paul, I think that’s a lovely idea,” I say flatly. My stomach is grumbling, and I’m exhausted after staying up all night with my every thought circling around Delilah.
“Thank you, preacher, that means a lot.”
“Well,” I smile. “Best of luck to you, Pau—”
“I’ve been raising funds, actually.”
Ahhh, there it is. I sigh, but I keep smiling at him, even though it’s clear where this is going.
“The good people of Canaan have contributed mightily to the fund, but I was hoping I might implore you and your Godly charity—”
“You know what, Paul?” I smile. “Let me pray on it, okay?”
That’s my nice way of saying “fuck no and fuck off.” But my charming smile seems to give Paul the opposite idea.
“Oh, Lordy, preacher, that would… well, gee,” he gushes. “That would be a miracle!”
“Wouldn’t it though?” I smile. “Anyways, Paul, I do have to go prepare for tomorrow’s sermon.”
“Of course! Of course!” he gushes again. He reaches out and firmly shakes my hand. “And thank you, Gabriel. Bless you.”
“And to you as… you too,” I mumble through a smile. He turns to leave, when he suddenly stops and turns back.
“Oh, Gabriel, did my sister speak to you?”
I freeze. “Uh, what?”
“Delilah. She was all out of sorts this morning, and—”
Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck. I glance back to the Winnebago and wonder just how fast I can get it cranking enough to flee this fucking town before the pitchforks and torches appear over the horizon looking to string me up for putting my hands on Delilah Somerset.
“Well, she seemed like her soul was conflicted, and I think she was looking for you to help set her straight.”
I frown. Well this is interesting.
“I haven’t seen her, Paul.”
“Oh, well, maybe she’ll be by later.” He smiles. “And thanks again, preacher.”
He turns, and I watch him follow the rest of the morning’s crowd back across the field to the parked cars.
…I think I need a drink.
I start to turn, when suddenly, there’s a finger tapping my shoulder. I jump and whip around and come face to face with her.
“I need to talk to you.”
I blink, and I glance behind me, half expecting Jedediah to be standing there with a shotgun leveled at me.
“I’m alone.”
I smile wryly and turn back look at her.
Shit.
I told myself a thousand times last night that what happened was a mistake. I told myself to get my shit together, and to resist whatever witchcraft temptation that Delilah casts on me, whether she knows it or not. And I think I even had myself mostly convinced, until I turn around and drink in the sight of the blonde-haired angel in the floral sundress that clings to every damn sweet curve.
I growl lowly.
“What can I do for you, Delilah?”
Her lips curl at the corners. “No salaciously crude language or quip? No filthiness to try and trip me up?”
I grin. “You’ve caught me unprepared. If you give me a minute or two, maybe I can take my pants off or something.”
She giggles but quickly stifles it as her face reddens.
“I’ve…” she glances around. “Can we talk in private?”
I frown and look around at the entirely empty field.
“Maybe in there?” She nods at the tent, and I shrug.
“Sure.”
Delilah turns on a sandaled heel and walks over through the tent-flap, and I’m right behind her with my eyes glued to that tight little ass under the floral sundress. God help me. She walks all the way down the aisle and around the little stage to where my baptism tub-slash-hot-tub is, which is also almost a little office area for me.
“So?” I mutter once she stops and turns to me.
“So, I’ve been thinking.”
I unzip my big white “preacher” robe and toss it over the back of a chair. I fold my arms over my chest, and when she doesn’t continue, I arch a brow.
“Is this a guessing game?”
She blushes. “No, no. I—I’ve been thinking about…” her blush deepens. “About last night,” she breathes.
The beast stirs inside of me. “Which part?” I growl.
“All the parts,” she says quietly, her eyes sparking.
“And?” I grunt, stepping closer to her.
Delilah swallows, and her teeth rake over her lower lip. “And I’ve come to some conclusions.”
“Enlighten me, please?”
Her eyes dart over me. “I’ve decided that I was right. You are a wicked, probably sinful man, and I don’t believe that you’re truly a preacher.”
I frown, and my jaw clenches. Well, that’s it—the jig is up. If she hasn’t already told her parents and maybe even the local cops, she will, and that means I need to get three states away, pronto.