by Sosie Frost
Not like we had anything more than a few nights of pleasure.
Even if I’d allowed myself to feel what I felt for him, I knew a broken man when I saw one—especially while on stage.
Wanting this man was just as dangerous as hoping to fix him.
And idiot me couldn’t help but try.
Varius greeted the Widow Barlow with a wide smile. Hell must have frozen over because she returned the grin.
How did he do it?
“I hope our coordinator is treating you well?” He winked. “Then again, you don’t need the direction, do you, Mrs. Barlow? This is your…sixtieth year?”
She warned him with a subtle wave of her cane. “Sixty-first, but a lady doesn’t talk about her age.”
“Shouldn’t need to when she looks so young.”
Oh Christ. I rolled my eyes. The widow was charmed.
“So nice to have you involved with the church again, Pastor.” Her words hollowed as she cast a skeptical glance at me. “I wonder what convinced you to return…”
“I’m only helping with the production, Mrs. Barlow.”
This didn’t please her though nothing ever did. “You may think you’re rid of the church, Varius Payne, but I know you, and I know your family. Lord knows they caused enough problems with my kin. Your folks are notoriously obstinate and incorrigible. They’re a menace to this town.”
He snickered. “Sounds about right.”
“Then this will be the first and only time I say this…” Her gnarled finger poked his chest. “You should start acting more like your brothers.”
Varius hid his amusement. “Think Butterpond could handle another Payne boy?”
She grumbled. “Well, Julian has his child now, and Marius has scandalized that poor Murphy girl, so Heaven help us. We shouldn’t go looking for trouble…of which…” She nodded toward me. “I like this one, but that doesn’t mean you should, hear me?”
He nodded. “Glory’s a great asset.”
“I have eyes, child. She has a very nice asset. Doesn’t mean it’s any good for this town or a man like you.” She dismissed me with a wave of her hand and began her trek up the aisle. “I won’t be attending any more rehearsals. After half a century, I should hope I know my part.”
I groaned. Good news for the angels. Bad news for my production.
But I said nothing as I shoved my patchwork, duct-taped, incomprehensible script into my bag. A couple of pages slipped out. Probably the Silent Night mime scene. Possibly for the best that it fluttered beneath the pews.
“Okay, Lulu…”
I turned just as my toddler fell asleep, my cell phone crashing from her hand and onto the tile. The screen didn’t crack. This time.
Not like I could be angry with the little lovebug. Poor thing had been stuck in the church all day, and only now did she collapse for a nap. Or, what looked like a nap.
Most little girls slept like princesses. Not mine. So much for the angelic pictures I’d taken when she was a newborn. All evidence then had indicated she’d be demure, calm, and precious…
Wrongo.
Lulu had a…strong personality. Even slept with attitude, her arms completely outstretched, foot kicked up onto the pew. Her back was bent, knees twisted, and she’d turned halfway into a somersault to keep the light out of her eyes.
If I had half the flexibility of my child, I could have stayed on the stage and made my money in a more honorable fashion. Dancing was far easier than shepherding shepherds, managing magis, and supervising Santas.
The stage hands bolted to the door, stampeding each other to escape the production for the night. Good to know the show would go on…provided it ended before sunset.
Varius didn’t approach. Didn’t smile. Didn’t even look at me.
Or my baby.
If hellfire, the pageant, or destroying his reputation didn’t terrify this man…
Why did a sleeping toddler render him silent and pale?
I should have let him leave as he murmured a quiet goodbye and turned to the door. But it didn’t make for a good life lesson if I didn’t make every situation as difficult on myself as possible.
“You realize our Virgin Mary is seventy-five years old?”
My voice echoed over the pews. Varius paused, allowed his fingers to trace the golden edges of a Bible in the pew, and turned to face me.
“She’s played Mary in every pageant this town has produced,” he said.
“And don’t you think it’s time she retired?”
This intrigued him. Varius laughed, a mellow and consuming gentleness that had the power to fill the church with warmth. Too bad he so seldom laughed.
“You’re going to fire Widow Barlow?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a demon with a cane!”
“And, because of her, most people in Butterpond have developed good reflexes.”
“I need a Mary who can hear her cues. A Mary who won’t take one of the snowman’s arms as a switch to beat the archangels. A Mary who doesn’t need a powered chair to make it across the stage.”
“The scenery crew said they’ll make the scooter look like a donkey.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, V. How am I supposed to make a seventy-five-year-old woman look pregnant? The hump on her back is bigger than the pillow under her dress!”
His attention drifted, and, for a quiet moment, he stared only at Lulu. In that painful second, he was no longer with me but somewhere in the past. Somewhere that hurt. Somewhere dark.
Somewhere I couldn’t reach him.
Lulu stirred, and Varius shifted away from the pew. He brushed a handful of glitter from the stage into a nearby garbage can overflowing with deleted script pages, broken scenery, and pizza boxes.
“You can ask her to retire…” Varius straightened a row of chairs against the stage. “But then you’d need to find me a new financier for the pageant.”
My stomach pitted. “Don’t tell me....”
“The Barlows are the richest family in Butterpond. And Agatha Barlow has been the most generous supporter of this church. Without her, we lose the lights…the sound engineers…your ballet.”
Never. “I can live without lights. Believe me; it’d make some scenes better.” I threatened him with a raised eyebrow. “But don’t you touch my Nutcracker.”
“Then you better learn how Widow Barlow takes her tea.”
“Oh God.”
“Earl Grey. Lemon only. And if you so much as peek at a sugar packet—she’ll know.”
I sunk into the pew, head in my hands. “I strip for money, but this is more degrading. We’re gonna need a miracle, V. Work your magic.”
“I don’t have that sort of talent.”
I doubted that. “Don’t think it’s something you can forget, preacher.”
“Jesus had his fishes and loaves. Best I can do is charm church ladies into baking casseroles.”
He could do more than that. Just wouldn’t confess to it, even in a church.
I slid next to my daughter, rubbing a hand over her chubby tummy as she grumbled at the disruption. She was exhausted. That I understood. I had no idea what time it was, when I’d arrived at the church, what I’d eaten for lunch, or the last time I’d had a chance to go to the bathroom.
And the production still wasn’t anywhere close to recognizable.
In a moment of weakness, I rubbed the soreness from my broken wrist. “Why didn’t I take the topless bartending job?”
Varius smirked, a devilish grin. “You’d pull in a larger audience.”
“Well, if the pageant fails, I can salvage it with a strip-tease to Santa Baby.”
“Might have to audition first.”
I shouldn’t have smiled. Shouldn’t have encouraged it.
Shouldn’t have let the fantasy enter my mind.
But I enjoyed the delicious tingle that shivered up my spine.
“Careful, V…” I warned. “You don’t
want to end up on the naughty list this Christmas.”
“It’s been a while since I was good.”
“Easier to be bad?”
His voice lowered, dangerously wicked. “More fun too.”
“What a sheltered life you’ve lived.”
“Good thing I’m a quick learner.”
“You don’t even know what being bad means.”
“I got a good idea.”
I licked my lips, loving how his stare fixated on the sinful motion. “Count your blessings, preacher. Couple more nights with me and you’d catch fire when you walk into this church.”
“Worth the flames.”
“Is it?”
“You are.”
This was a risky game. Better to stop before either of us got any more hurt. “Believe it or not, V…you could be quite the heartbreaker.”
“Never meant to break your heart.”
“What makes you think you did?” I lied. “Pride something, something before the fall, right?”
Varius didn’t apologize. His voice hollowed into a soft, aching sound that had once whispered sensual, terrible things through countless nights. Sweet words. Sexy torments. Soulful confessions.
All broken promises.
“You know what you do to me, Glory.”
Of course, I knew. The same feelings, desires, and frustrations wove through me. But I had to be the one with the strength to walk away—for both our sakes.
“Don’t say such things,” I said. “You realize we’re in a church?”
Varius shifted closer, his whisper a declaration that might have echoed through the rafters. “Any place with you is holy.”
“I’m no angel, V.”
“No…” His honesty would damn us both. “But you’re my savior.”
My heart ached. Every unspoken word threatened this life and the next.
Why was it I could leave everything behind but this man?
I’d abandoned my home. My job. Even my name.
But Varius Payne was the one part of my life I couldn’t escape.
Then again, I was a girl who confronted self-destruction head-on. More fun that way.
I sucked in a breath, wishing it would cool the blood raging through my body. “I should get Lulu home to bed before she wakes up and wants to climb the Christmas tree again.”
I didn’t move though. Waking a sleeping mini-grinch seemed as bad an idea as locking eyes with Varius.
Or lips.
“At least she’ll sleep in the car,” I said. “Traveling is easy…getting her out of the car seat though, that’ll take a real Christmas miracle.”
A blessing in disguise. With the hotel as expensive as it was, and my wallet filled with more snowflakes than pennies, at least my kid liked sleeping in the car. Had a bad feeling we’d need to camp out in the Camry until the cast on my wrist came off.
Varius checked his watch. “It’s late.”
“And it’s a long drive to Baker’s Park.”
“That’s a half-hour north of Ironfield.”
He was kind enough to omit the obvious—the community was not a safe area for a single woman and her toddler. But, then again, Ironfield hadn’t felt safe the past month either. Moving to Baker’s Park was my first good decision in weeks. The second was getting the hell out of the city before the rest of my bones were broken.
“It’s temporary,” I said. I hoped.
“I thought you lived in Ironfield?”
Had I told him that? Damn it. I couldn’t remember what I’d hidden from him. If he knew that much about me, what other secrets had slipped out during our nights together? In his arms, I’d escaped as far as I could, beyond the misery, anger, and constant vigilance.
But I hadn’t told him everything.
I hoped I’d lied then. I sure as hell would lie now.
“They’re fumigating my apartment building,” I said. “We’re staying in a hotel.”
“With a baby?” Varius asked.
“Believe it or not, she doesn’t take up much space.”
His voice softened. “I know how small a child can be.”
Why did it make him sound so damn sad? He wasn’t the one watching Lulu as she grew up. My little baby had transformed from a tiny, squirming bundle in my arms into a stomping, wiggling, giggling little basket of chubby. She had a smile that brought me to my knees…and an attitude that would inevitably keep me there.
“You’ve been driving to and from Baker’s Park every day?” he asked. “This late at night?”
“It can’t surprise you to learn I’m a night owl.”
“A lot of things surprise me about you.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I could say the same, Pastor V.”
He crossed his arms. “Why did you never tell me you had a daughter?”
“Why did you hide that you were once a minister?”
“I asked you first.”
Didn’t mean I’d answer. “Ladies’ choice.”
“Tell me the truth.”
Why? I’d never get the truth from him, not when he didn’t understand it himself. “We agreed to keep our relationship superficial.”
His expression darkened. “But she’s your daughter.”
“And it’s your faith.”
“You should’ve trusted me.”
Enough was enough. What sense was there in torturing ourselves?
“Trust you? I didn’t know you, V. What we had wasn’t real. It was just a fantasy. An escape. A mistake.” I gently stroked Lulu’s cheek. “For a few hours every week, we met, we fooled around, and we ignored the rest of the world. But as soon as the sun came up and the pants were back on…life returned to normal.” I gestured towards an irritated Lulu, kicking her feet into my ribs as I dared to encroach on her space. “Lulu is my everything. Every penny I earn, however I earn it, is for her. Doesn’t matter if I’m bussing tables, bartending, dancing, or sewing snowflakes onto Jesus’s tunic. It’s all for her. And nothing, no one, will jeopardize that.”
Varius looked away, but his sadness etched hard into his face. I wished he’d smile more.
Just once. Just for me.
“I wish you’d told me,” he said.
“It wouldn’t change anything.”
That he didn’t believe, and I knew what he’d ask before he voiced it.
The same question I’d wondered for the past few weeks.
“Where’s her father?” Varius said.
I’d shared enough. A girl needed some secrets. Kept her interesting. Kept her in control.
Kept her safe.
The words tore from my throat. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Why not?”
My temper flared. Pretty sure the good minister never encountered a girl like me when she lost her patience.
“He’s not in our lives anymore,” I said.
“What happened?”
Any other person might have judged me for a past he couldn’t understand and a problem I’d already rectified. But Varius wasn’t any other man. His questions weren’t hostile.
He spoke as if he actually cared.
But no man in this world was so good he’d carry another person’s problems.
Varius was good, but he wasn’t a saint.
“Lulu’s father was a mistake.” I’d already said more than I should’ve, and I hated every word I wasted on that bastard. “Most men are. But I learned that lesson a little too slowly. Tend to regret most of my relationships.”
He quieted. “Do you regret me?”
“I regret you most of all.” No sense in lying. Only wanted to see if I could hurt him as much as he’d hurt me. “We shouldn’t have been together, V. But at least you didn’t knock me up and leave once you learned I was pregnant.”
His jaw clenched. “He’s never been in her life?”
That was a tricky question, and one I’d avoid from now until the day Lulu inevitably asked me about her father.
At least she was too young to ask about the
cast on my wrist.
“Andre has never been a father to Lulu. And for that, and a few other reasons, what he’s done is unforgivable. I’ll be damned if I let him anywhere near my little girl.” I accidentally massaged my wrist. “Not that he’s ever wanted her.”
“Maybe he’s afraid?”
Varius wasn’t a dumb man, but he sometimes said some stupid shit.
I sucked in a breath. “Afraid of his daughter?”
“Afraid of becoming a father. Raising a child. Being responsible for the safety of someone so young and vulnerable?”
Little did he know, Andre liked us vulnerable. “Don’t know. Don’t care. The less I see of him, the better off we both are.”
I needed a shot of whiskey just to talk about him. Or eggnog. 'Tis the season or whatever.
I tickled Lulu’s foot as she used half of my lap for a bed. She sighed in her sleep. Cute little thing. Dark hair, dark eyes, darker skin than her momma. Andre’s charm. She had the best qualities of both angels and demons, and that made her the cutest sort of trouble.
I shook my head, voice a whisper. “Besides…who could be afraid of her?”
Varius didn’t answer, and I didn’t like the quiet. Usually meant he’d gone to that dark place again. A hallow, unyielding secret that took so much from him. He might have escaped with me, but he left part of himself in that darkness every time.
There’d only be so many more times he’d make it out on his own.
And I couldn’t do it for him anymore.
“What is it that scares you, V?” I asked.
His eyes met mine for the briefest of moments before he turned away. He had no where else to look. Every inch of the church seemed to cause him some sort of pain.
“Careful, preacher. I have ways of making you talk.”
“Do you?”
“Some are good. Most involve alcohol.” I arched my eyebrow. “Usually I can get a man talking while I’m still fully clothed. It’s a talent.”
He smirked. “More than a talent. I don’t think you understand the effect you have on men.”
“Don’t be naïve. I know exactly what I do to men.” I winked. “And I realize what I do to ministers.”
“And what’s that?”
“Destroy their faith.”
His dashing smile would’ve shattered my soul, if he hadn’t first broken my heart.
