Sinful Temptation: An Opposites Attract Romance (Temperance Falls: Selling Sin Book 1)

by London Hale

  But it was no big deal. Just sex. Noah’s passing remark before he fled proved how he saw it—as a single day between us. The same way I did. An amazing day and one I wouldn’t soon forget, but still just one day.

  I turned my head, burying my face in my pillow, only to realize it smelled like Noah. My blanket did, too. Even my hair smelled like him. With a groan, I threw off the covers and pushed myself out of bed because it was driving me crazy that his scent surrounded me. Like he’d never left.

  After a quick shower, I slipped into my favorite dress and pulled my hair back into a cute ponytail, then painted my lips with my favorite color. It was a red lipstick kind of day.

  I had a bit of time before I needed to be downstairs to open the store, so I stripped my bedding and threw it in the washing machine before remaking the bed with fresh linens.

  And then it was like Noah had never even been there.

  It was surprising how easily any trace of him could be removed from my life. Had it really only been forty-eight hours since this whole thing between us had come to a head? Because it felt like a lifetime.

  I poured myself some coffee into my travel mug and grabbed my e-reader, making sure it was stocked with reading material in case it was slow today. With one last glance at my apartment, completely wiped clean of any evidence of last night, I shut the door behind me and headed down the steps on the side of the building.

  The sun was bright, the air crisp but not chilly. Another beautiful fall day on the island, and people were out enjoying it. Cars filled the church parking lot—a typical scene for Tuesdays, as one of the busier days at the church. I normally reveled in their busy days, when visitors would pour out of the front doors, the red awning above Sin immediately drawing their gazes. I’d stand outside under the guise of watering my flowers and flutter my fingers in the direction of those grouchy old women. Women who walked around with perpetual wedgies because they constantly got their panties in a twist anytime they even saw me walk down the street.

  Today, however, I couldn’t bring myself to give the church more than a cursory glance on my way to the front of my building. The thought of seeing Noah after he ran out just an hour before made my stomach twist with something I definitely hadn’t had enough coffee to examine.

  Actually, come to think of it, that examination might be better suited for the gin variety.

  I juggled my e-reader and coffee, readying my keys as I approached the front door of Sin.

  “Harper!”

  On instinct, I turned my head in the direction of my name. Noah stood across the street, members of his congregation surrounding him. When our eyes connected, he smiled and waved, then left the people talking to him and jogged toward me. He still wore the clothes he’d had on last night, every bit as rumpled as I’d expect them to be from spending an evening shoved between my couch cushions or under my bed.

  The thought caused my stomach to flip, remembering his face buried between my legs. How he’d taken me, soft and sweet, yet still somehow greedy. How he’d pulled me into his lap, taking the opportunity to run his fingers or his palms or his lips over every inch of me he could.

  Then I remembered how he’d fucked me this morning, then bailed with little more than a thank you.

  Straightening my spine, I glanced behind Noah toward the people still crowding the front lawn of the church, all eyes on us. “Pastor Noah.”

  His smile faltered as his brow drew down. “I was hoping I’d run into you. I’m sorry I had to rush off this morning.”

  I nearly laughed because it was usually me who was feeding some bullshit line. I waved him off, needing to get into the sanctuary of my store. Needing some space from Noah. “I get it. Lots to do on weekdays for the pastor.” I turned away, finding the key I needed for the shop. “I’ll see you around, Noah.”

  “Hey, stop for a second.” He reached out to still me, encircling my wrist and pulling me out of the alcove of the entryway. I glanced down at his hand, hating how much I loved feeling his fingertips against my pulse point. Hating how it reminded me of his intimate touches at dinner last night. “I really am sorry. I forgot all about reflection this morning.”

  “Well, I’ll give you one thing—I’ve certainly never gotten that excuse before.”

  “It’s not an excuse. I wanted to stay in bed with you, but the silent reflection hour is one of our biggest weekday events. I couldn’t miss it without someone to stand in for me.” He tightened his grip, his thumb rubbing circles against the underside of my wrist. “Please. Let me take you to lunch. We can—damn, I have a church council thing. Dinner, then. Let me take you out to dinner again.”

  I shook my head, pulling my hand away, because I couldn’t think when he was touching me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  His brow furrowed, confusion plain on his face. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Look, Noah, I get it. We’re both adults. You had a little itch to scratch, and who better to scratch it with than me, right?”

  “You are not just an itch, Harper.”

  “An itch. A little acting out. Whatever you want to call it.”

  Voices carried from across the street, drawing my attention, only to find nearly everyone outside looking in our direction. Some of them were covert about it, slight nods toward us, while others were just outright pointing at the two of us together.

  I put on my best smile and waved to the catty, gossipy bastards. To Noah, I said, “We’ve got an audience.”

  He shook his head, not sparing them a glance. “I don’t care about them. I’m here to talk to you.”

  “I’m not exactly thrilled to have my personal business discussed in front of the people who have no problem judging me day in and day out, so I’d really rather not.”

  “Harper, I don’t—”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to open the shop. Goodbye, Noah.”

  “Harper, wait. Let’s go inside and talk. There has to be a way—”

  “Everything okay, Pastor Noah?”

  “Henry, this isn’t a good time.”

  “Yes, I can see that. But the council is convening—”

  I didn’t stick around to hear the rest, slipping into the shop and locking the front door behind me. I had thirty minutes until I needed to flip the front sign to OPEN, and I was going to use every single one of them.

  Their muted voices seeped through the walls, low enough that I couldn’t discern what they were saying. I walked around the counter and placed my stuff down before going to the register to ready it for the day. From here, I had a perfect view out the front window to where Noah stood with Henry, husband of one of the gossipier blue-hairs I had to deal with. Noah said something to him, then glanced back to where I’d been standing moments ago. He closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as he looked at the empty patch of concrete.

  The soft hum of a voice filtered into the store again. Noah turned back to Henry, and he nodded.

  And then he walked away.

  My patience was waning.

  For hours, I’d done everything I was supposed to do—I’d led the hour of reflection, I’d counseled one of the local youth who had stopped by unannounced looking for guidance, I’d answered phone calls and offered prayers. Dealing with the church council—the governing body of the congregation—was getting on my last nerve.

  “Pastor Noah, I’m not sure you’re understanding our concerns.”

  I glared up at the man in question, the one who had never been supportive of anything I’d wanted to do for the congregation. “Considering you’ve reiterated them six times now, I’m pretty sure I’ve got them.”

  Charlie, the president of the council and usually one of the more progressive members, sighed. “Henry, I’m going to have to agree with Noah here. You’ve voiced your concerns over the pastor’s social life. Why don’t we move on to other business?”

  But there was no other business, and everyone staring at me from the other side of the table knew it. We were here so
lely because Henry and his wife were now aware Harper and I were an item and didn’t like it. I knew how people talked about her, knew there would be chatter among some of the more closed-minded townspeople. I hadn’t expected it to be so soon, though. And I hadn’t expected to be unsure of my relationship’s viability with her when the shit hit the fan.

  “Pastor Noah?” Charlie said, regaining my attention.

  “What?”

  “I just wondered if there was anything else you’d like to say before we close out this emergency session?”

  Yes. I wanted to read to them from the Bible, to quote the scriptures regarding how Jesus chose to treat others around him. Wanted to sermonize on kindness and withholding judgment, on the good found in someone’s heart and the evils of forcing your views on others. There was a lot I wanted to say, but first, I needed to get to Harper. I needed to fix whatever the hell had happened in front of her shop this morning.

  “No,” I said, taking to my feet. “I have things to do.”

  “You mean like shaving?” Henry asked, the implication clear in his voice.

  I turned slowly on my heel, unable not to. “Is that really what you want to discuss here? My grooming habits? I realize your wife has had some sort of obsession with the infrequency of my shaving, Henry, but I didn’t realize that had bled over into you as well. So let’s deal with this.”

  I stepped closer to the table, opening my arms in invitation and letting my pastor voice gain volume. “I don’t shave during the week. That’s a capitulation to this very council, who didn’t want a pastor with facial hair. If it were up to me, I’d have a beard right now. But I compromised. You all might want to look up the definition of that word and find your own places to compromise.”

  All five of them seemed to find the paper in front of them very important in that moment, the cowards. But if they thought I was done, they were wrong. Very, very wrong.

  “I’d like to remind you all that my sermons are strong and well received, the pews are filled for every service on Sunday, and the offerings are far exceeding expectations. I won’t be nitpicked, and I certainly won’t allow anyone on this island or beyond to insinuate there is something inherently sinful about Harper Davis. I fully intend to continue speaking the word of the Lord in the manner I see reaching the people of this community, and I definitely intend to live up to the credo of love thy neighbor when it comes to Miss Davis.”

  I grabbed my notebook, too angry give a thought to procedures and policies. They’d crossed a line, and I refused to slink away without them understanding that. “If you want to be petty enough to imply I’m not the right leader for this congregation simply because of my lack of shaving or whom I choose to date, then perhaps you should consider convening a committee to find another pastor. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  I let the door slam behind me as I stalked out into the hallway. Enough was enough. I could handle the jokes about looking young and the side comments about my weekday beard. I dealt with long hours and little pay, with apathy and lack of empathy for people within their own community. I would not—could not—deal with anyone attacking Harper simply because I chose to date her. She was joy personified, light and hope in one hell of a package.

  And she was angry with me.

  When I finally made it outside, I nearly howled in frustration. Sin was busy. Too busy for me to go barging in and demand Harper stop doing her job just to appease me. That would go over like a lead balloon. I’d need to wait for a bit, give the place time to clear out. Maybe give myself time to collect my thoughts.

  “Pastor Noah?”

  Or give people time to track me down. “Officer Nash. It’s good to see you.”

  “You all right? You look a little…”

  Yeah, I was sure I did. “I’m fine. I was hoping to go see Miss Davis about something, but I don’t want to interrupt her customers.”

  “It’s Jane’s Hour tonight.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Jane’s Hour…like Jane Doe? Harper brings in different speakers to host discussions for victims of sexual assault. Tonight, it’s a sex therapist who wrote some book about reclaiming your sexuality after abuse. I volunteered for guard duty since it’s so dark when the meetings end. We like to make sure the ladies all make it to their cars safely.”

  “Right. I forgot.” Well, now I definitely couldn’t interrupt her until I knew her evening was over. Not when she was doing something so important and needed in the community. The lingering doubt was going to kill me, though.

  “You okay, Pastor?” Connor asked, cocking his head as he looked me over.

  I couldn’t imagine what he saw as an officer of the law—I was still wearing my clothes from the day before, still hadn’t had time to brush my hair or wash my face, and I was probably twitching like a junkie looking for his next fix after having been away from Harper for so long.

  Shit, he’d asked me a question.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s been a long day. I’m…” But I didn’t have an answer for him. How could I? Societal norms dictated that I should tell him I was fine and be done with it, but was I? No, I wasn’t fine. Far from it. Angry? Yes, slightly. Frustrated? Totally. Hurt?

  Exponentially.

  Connor gave me one more look then seemed to relax. “If you weren’t a pastor, I’d say you need a beer.”

  I shot a glance across the street to the shop where my Harper was inside, doing good work. “You know what? I do need a beer.”

  He laughed and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Then maybe you should get one. Since you’re home and all.”

  “Want to join me?”

  “Next time. I’ve got to keep an eye out tonight.” He turned as if to leave, but before he took more than two steps, he swung back around. “Pastor?”

  “Yeah?”

  “She’s a good person.” He nodded toward Sin. “Don’t ever let the pearl-clutchers brigade make you think otherwise. Harper does a lot for Temperance Falls—for the women, specifically. She’s a gift to the community, and no one had better say different around me.”

  Sometimes words were just words, but other times, they were a map leading you to the place you needed to be. While I’d been upset about how things had played out with Harper today, I’d forgotten to consider my actions through her eyes. The woman who had to fight every day to be accepted, the one who was stared at, who built another layer of protection around herself when people started to whisper about her. I’d left her naked in her bed with little more than an offhanded comment and a kiss on the cheek.

  I was an idiot.

  “Thank you for the reminder. I needed that tonight.”

  “Any time.” Connor nodded once, then headed toward Sin once more. “Enjoy your beer.”

  But beer was no longer on my mind. Instead, I was focused on the amazing woman across the street who deserved so much more respect than she was getting. And how I was going to do whatever it took to make her mine.

  It was dumb and naïve, but I’d actually thought Noah would come back last night. I’d pretended I hadn’t been looking out the front window of the shop all evening in hopes of seeing him, had even lied to Gen about it. But I couldn’t lie to myself.

  How the hell had I let this happen?

  True, Noah and I had been circling each other since that first day more than a year ago, our entire relationship the longest streak of foreplay in history, starting the moment I laid eyes on him. Last night while I’d lain in a bed completely stripped of his presence, I still hadn’t been able to get away from him. I’d stared at the ceiling, replaying every minute of the previous night, and come to a startling conclusion: During each and every one of our tirades, every verbal match, every bout of flirtatious teasing, we’d been headed somewhere. More importantly, I’d been headed somewhere—on a one-way trip to right where I found myself now. A place I’d never intended to go.

  In love. With a pastor.

  My grandmother had definitely gotten the last la
ugh. She was no doubt cackling from beyond the grave, pleased that I’d truly fucked myself over this time. Because in the end, love didn’t matter. It was never enough to keep people around—I’d learned that before I’d learned my ABC’s. Despite declaring her love for me, my grandmother had used me solely as proof of my mother’s horrible life choices. And my mom’s love had been conditional on the fact that my very existence served to piss off my grandmother.

  No one had ever taken me as I was—imperfect and unapologetic about it—and loved me anyway.

  I didn’t know why I thought Noah would be the exception to the rule.

  “Harper!” Gen snapped her fingers in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Girl, what’s going on? I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes.” Gen tossed her purse behind the counter and tugged off her coat. “Does it have something to do with the delicious pastor? Because I heard—”

  “No talk of Pastor No, please.”

  Like the good employee she was, she threw back her head and laughed. “That’s cute how you think I’m gonna drop it.” She perched on a stool, her elbow on the counter, chin in hand, and leaned toward me. “Not happening. Not after what I just heard.”

  I rolled my eyes, because I could only imagine what sort of gossip had infested the island. By now, the rumors probably had Noah and me fucking in the pews after Sunday service. “I definitely don’t want to know.”

  “Um, yeah ya do.” She nodded, her head bouncing like a bobblehead. “You definitely, definitely do.”

  “Look, Gen, it’s been a shitty twenty-four hours. I’m not interested in whatever bullshit the blue-hairs have come up with to desecrate my reputation, and I def—”

  “Okay, but how about the part where Pastor No basically told the council to fuck off when they told him to stop dating you? Can we talk about that?”