Communion (On My Knees Series Book 3)

by Ella James

  "How long?" Even though I know this bit already, I’m still curious about exactly how long he’s been wanting it.

  He smiles softly, looking down again, and I cup his cheek. "You look away when you're nervous, Mr. Megachurch Pastor." I kiss his chin. "That seems like an awfully obvious tell."

  He rests his head against my shoulder and I hug him to me. "I love that you want a family. Fucking sexy as hell, my Sky babe."

  "Is it?" He hugs me closer, so there's nothing between us—not even a sliver of air. And I love it. I swallow because my eyes burn a little.

  "Oh yes." I stroke my hand down the back of his head, smoothing his soft hair down. "I want to have a bunch of babies with you. Borrowed uterus, of course." I laugh.

  "How soon would you want one?" His eyes hold mine, and I feel dizzy.

  "How soon would you want one?" I murmur, and my heart starts beating harder.

  He swallows, and his face takes on an animated look, as if he's trying to be chill but can't be. "I don't know."

  His mouth twitches, and his face looks sad...but happy. Like his face can't pick one.

  "Yes you do." I'm laughing now. I give his thick shoulder a squeeze. "I think you do know, Sky. You're holding out on me."

  "Would it be crazy?" he whispers.

  My eyes ache as my throat feels like it's cinching. "Yes." It bubbles out—half word, half hoarse laugh. "It would definitely be crazy as all hell. And it might not even work," I whisper softly. "Whoever this woman is...she might just be playing games."

  His eyes shut. "I know."

  I ruffle his hair, gripping the locks lightly. "How long have you been holding out on me, Mr. McDowell?"

  I swear, I think his face loses some color.

  I run my hand over his collarbone, pressing on the spot where I know I’ll feel a pulse. It’s fucking racing.

  “Sky.” I hug him again. This time, I step back, pulling him with me, leaning my back against the wall because I’m feeling the hour and all this shock. “You wanted the baby last time?”

  He kisses under my ear, whispers, “Maybe.”

  "I had no idea. I think I'm slipping."

  "What?" He tips his head back, showing me his scrunched brows and incredulous expression.

  "Yeah, that's what I said." I kiss him on the bridge of his nose. "Feel like I'm missing the ESP vibes. Sky vibes. You didn't let on. You know how I know there were no clues from you? No hints that you were thinking you wanted to keep her?" He shakes his head, smiling so slightly it's almost like a small twitch of his lips. "Because I wanted the baby last time, too,” I murmur.

  Luke’s eyes close. When he opens them, his face looks guilty. "I know." He blows out a long breath, shifting his weight so there's fractionally more space between us. "I could tell...that day."

  I cup his cheek. "So not everyone is slipping. Some of us have upped our game."

  "Not really." He grins. "You're just obvious."

  "But was I?"

  "Yes." He chuckles. "Missed your calling as an actor, Vance Rayne. Everything you feel is written all over your face. But I know you better than most. I could tell when we were doing the bottle in the nursery. But when Carrie came to take her and then they left, you looked like you felt it. I wasn't sure if you were bummed because of the baby being abandoned. Unclaimed." He lifts a brow, and I know he's referencing my dickhead father. "Or if you really connected with her."

  "Why didn't you say something?" I ask.

  He lifts a shoulder, looking solemn. "Truthfully?"

  "I mean, if it doesn't put you out too much." I roll my eyes.

  He smiles, but it's fleeting and forced. I can tell he's feeling heavy. "I didn't want you to feel overwhelmed."

  "Overwhelmed? Like how?"

  “By the church.”

  “Overwhelmed in what way by it?”

  "Like it's the size of a city? Both financially and square feet, number of people. And my job. I wanted there to be room for us. For you to feel like we could just...be normal people. People who don’t get babies addressed to them like Christmas gifts."

  "But we can't be. Sky." I laugh. "We're not a normal couple. And I know that. I hitched a ride on your yacht—that’s how we met. You have a yacht. You're a public figure. Did you think I thought it might be normal?" How many times do we have to go over this?

  His face hardens—irritation. "Yes, I did hope maybe it could be as normal as possible."

  "What's possible is not normal. You can't help it, and that's fine because I couldn't care less. You think I picked you for the normal? You think I 'picked' you at all? Damn, dude. Is that how it felt for you, like ‘check yes or no’? Because for me it was a fucking avalanche that flattened me. I never got up again. And I never wanted to.

  “All I want is what we have here. I just want a home to live in with you and a bed that's ours together. I want to lie down beside you at night and sometimes wake up and see you in the morning. Fuck you in the morning." My dick twitches, and I laugh. "Saying that gives me a semi, by the way." I reach out and shake his shoulder, mostly so I can feel the thickness of him, the solid warmth of my heart standing here on two feet looking intense and uncertain.

  "I want to talk to you and see you every day, or almost. Hear what's up with you. Feel you come up behind me and hug me like you do sometimes. If you're sick, I wanna hold your hand, and if you're happy, I want to see that dazzling, Hollywood-looking smile. That's all I want. If you think I don't understand it's going to be a fucking zoo, then you're not really thinking. I see you, and I see what we've got here. Let me tell you something else. Something I've been keeping in because I'm nervous."

  His eyes widen slightly. "Tell me."

  "I uh...wouldn't mind helping out. Or whatnot. In whatever way you thought I could. Like…at Evermore."

  "Helping, you mean officially?"

  I shrug. "In some sort of way. Whatever you thought I was qualified for."

  "What would you want to do?" His eyes are careful on my face; I'm pretty sure he's wearing his polite pastor expression.

  "Just anything. To...you know...help, and be a part of it. The charity and helping people."

  A big grin blooms on his face. "You want that?" He shuts the grin down. "You don't have to."

  "I know." I laugh. "I mean, it's not like I'm qualified. I don't know that much. But I'm down with what you've got there. It's not militant and weird like you said some of the other ones are."

  "Some of the churches?" He's grinning, looking amused and maybe smug or something.

  "Right. Some of the other sectors. The denominations," I correct. "I see what you do, hear what you've been saying. Everything you said, like, I agree with that stuff. I think the organization is honestly pretty fucking cool. I want to help if I can."

  He smiles, chiller this time but I can still see the glow.

  "You are qualified," he says quickly. "And Rayne?"

  I widen my eyes in answer, and he steps to me, wrapping me in a tight bear hug. "I love you."

  16

  Luke

  "You're sure?" I've got my eyes locked on Rayne's tired, happy face, searching his features for a flicker of discomfort or indecision.

  He laughs. "Sky, I'm not someone who changes my mind a lot."

  "I know. But it's a baby."

  "Not a hamster." Vance lifts a brow.

  "Not a puppy," I say, hitting the ball back.

  "Not a kitten." He smirks.

  "You wanna get a baby? That's not yours?” I ask him. “That might have a lying mom?"

  "A desperate genius mom," he says, and that's the Vance I love so much.

  "You're being pretty generous. Tomorrow every news outlet might be all over this, depending on whether it gets leaked."

  Vance shrugs. "They can blow me."

  "I don't think so. That's my job."

  "You think we can do this?" Rayne asks with a nervous look.

  "Take the baby?"

  He nods.

  I laugh. "I don't know. I h
ope so." I edit my answer. "I think we can. But we might never sleep again, at least not for a long time."

  "If the mom decides to take her back, you think that'll be a big problem?" Vanny’s ocean-colored eyes are solemn as he looks into mine. I can feel his worry for me. Which is how I know what the question’s answer is for him.

  "I think it would probably be hard on us both,” I offer.

  "So that's the price we're paying,” he says. “A potential price, anyway. That's the risk."

  I nod once. "That's the risk."

  "If we lose this one, we can get another one," he puts forth.

  I snicker. "Thought we said it's not a hamster."

  He shrugs. "You're a rich, hot Hollywood type. Someone else will offer their spawn. Or we can get a woman to get hooked up with someone’s sperm. One of ours."

  I can’t help a snicker at the sound of that.

  Rayne chuckles. Then the smile falls off his face, and his eyes widen. "You want to go out now?” he asks me softly.

  “Yes.” I take his hand.

  He brings our joined hands to his mouth and kisses mine. “Wanna have a baby on our wedding night, Sky?”

  “Let’s give it a try.”

  It goes fine with Carrie. She knows me. She can see from Vance’s face that he’s not guilty. She tells us she thinks if we take baby, the mom may be happy and just go away. I tell her to let the woman know that she’ll be dialoguing with my lawyers or it’s no dice. “Don’t give her my number. Not that you would.”

  “I would never.” She smiles. “Wouldn’t sell my guy out.”

  “I know. Thank you, Carrie. For everything.”

  The baby cries as soon as the conversation is over, and Vance and I look at each other.

  "Do it," he says softly. And I know he's giving me a gift. I can tell from the set of his soft lips that he'd like to pick her up, but he's letting me. I lean down and get her out of the baby carrier, and Vance smiles as I smile down at her. I can see him in my periphery.

  "Just in case this works out..." Carrie snaps our picture, and my throat tightens as she says, "I'll text this to you."

  My eyes meet Rayne’s, and we exchange a quick grin. Then he's got the carrier and a generic-looking diaper bag. I've got her—our maybe baby. I laugh at that, and he asks why, and I tell him.

  We're both laughing as we walk inside.

  "I can be zen about it," he says. "What do you think?"

  I give him a funny grin with my brows lifted, and he laughs at me. Rayne knows the limits of my zen-like capabilities. I'm type A to the core. I can do the trusting God thing, maybe even better than most, but I'm impatient and it pains me.

  "We should have a strong clue in the next few days,” I tell V. “If my lawyers do things right. And they will," I add with faux menace.

  He shakes his head slowly. "You Hollywood types."

  I snicker, and the baby starts to fuss.

  "Don't worry baby." I bounce her a little as we move into the living room, and I notice Vance is watching me. "The nursery caretakers at the church say they like to be bounced. And have their back patted." I do that, and V's face softens. "Such a narrow little back.”

  He looks all heart-eyed. I have to work to keep from grinning at him like an idiot.

  I hold her head up with my hand, looking into her brown eyes. "Hi, baby. What do you want to be named?" I look at V as we reach the couch. "You think we're allowed to name her?"

  "I think we can't call her nothing." He looks thoughtful. "And we probably shouldn’t call her Maybe Baby. You want something from your book?" he asks me—I guess referencing the Bible.

  "Not necessarily."

  "What about Eden?” Rayne asks. “I know it's the so-called origin of sin or whatever. But it's also the origin of free thought. Maybe it’s about stepping out of line...but also just how life works?" He shrugs, and now I really am beaming at him. "My theologian."

  "Don't make fun of me." He's still smiling, but it's just a little strained.

  "That did sound patronizing. Sorry. I actually love it. I'm not sure I disagree completely. Most people see the Fall as...well, a fall from grace. And maybe it was. But I think falling from grace is what allows us to seek that same grace again, in more intentional, active way."

  "So it's part of the journey. That's what you mean?" Rayne asks.

  "Yeah. You have to take the bad with the good. Nothing real is ever going to be perfect."

  "I don't even think I want it to be,” he says. “Pretty boring."

  "What about Eden Helena?"

  His face lights up despite his tiredness. "Really? My mom?"

  "Yeah, man. Of course. I'd love to do that."

  "You're just gonna let me first-name her?" He snaps his fingers. "Just like that?"

  The baby blinks at him, and I grin. "Just like that. I'm also gonna let you hold her. I think she needs to be fed. I'll go mix it."

  I kiss his cheek and then I pass her to him.

  "Eden," I can hear him murmur as I walk off with the diaper bag.

  "The start of everything."

  Vance

  Okay, so the stories are true. These critters are loud as fuck, and they are not so good at sleeping.

  "It's okay," I whisper-sing. We're sitting on one of the living room couches in front of a fire. The grandfather clock on the mantle shows it’s 9:20 a.m. We got her to sleep around 6:45, after feeding her a bottle and a half, and she slept between us in the bed, inside a laundry basket lined with one of those mattress-topper squishy things, before she woke up with a cat-like screech.

  I figured I should let Sky sleep. God knows what his day will be like. I hope it’s not too bad. I check my phone as Eden sucks the baby milk out of the bottle. Even though I’m not surprised to find the news of our big night has hit the interwebs, I get a little jolt from seeing our pictures on TMZ and Page Six, and all the other tabloid sites that I’ve started hating.

  At least TMZ’s headline is somewhat positive—or neutral, I guess: America’s Most Famous Pastor Ties the Knot in Vegas Elopement. Page Six has: Recently Outed ‘Pastor Luke’ Has Wild Vegas Night, and the Daily Mail—fucking Brits—has Pastor McDowell Marries Lover in Vegas with a smaller headline that says: Luke McDowell and his Chelsea artist fiancé were said to have partied until dawn with pack of bros.

  Pack of bros. I roll my eyes even as I’m trying not to smile—because it was a good night. Maybe we were a pack of bros, but Luke had a blast. Like a kid at Christmas. Like a neglected orphan who never had Christmas. There were times when he seemed shy or embarrassed, but then these other times when his eyes went all wide and he looked so damn happy.

  The Daily Mail has got a picture of us dancing with some of the other guys around us. One of them—I’m pretty sure his name was Carlos—is grabbing Sky’s bicep…so I guess the Daily Mail wants to make it look slutty. But Sky and I are looking into each other’s eyes, and Sky’s face is slack, because he’s drunk, but also because he’s got his whole attention focused on me. It’s so damn romantic, I want to frame the thing.

  Fuck, I want to wake him up and taste that hot mouth of his. Instead, I smile down at Little Miss Baby, and she’s blinking up at me.

  “Hey there, curious kitten. You need some attention too, huh?”

  She is pretty. Who knew babies could be pretty?

  “You’re a perfect little baby, aren’t you? That’s right…”

  Her eyes close, and damn, it’s good to hold her little body up against mine. Like holding a puppy or something.

  I rock her back and forth, moving just my torso, till her eyelids sag, but she won’t fully shut them.

  “Someone’s stubborn, huh?”

  She blinks. I check my text box as her eyes shut again, finding some congratulations texts from a few friends and then a text from Pearl.

  ‘COULD NOT BE HAPPIER FOR YOU LOVEBIRDS!!!!! How’s it feel to join the newlyweds club?!’ There’s a heart-eyed emoji. ‘Hope you’re sleeping in. Tell Luke to RELAX…it’s good h
e’s following his heart and these are necessary things. So let’s not get upset about the press. This is why we have PR… Love you both. Talk soon. Xxo’

  Maybe Eden can feel my heart racing, because when I look back down, her little brown eyes are open again.

  "Hey there, cupcake. Aren’t you just the perfect little baby, mmhmm? I think so." She has a beauty mark near her mouth and the smallest, softest little bow lips. Long lashes and smooth skin. And just a little peach-fuzz hair so far.

  "You're gonna be a good kid, aren't you? Do you think it's okay for me to smell you? People are always talking about how babies smell. It seems creepy, but what do you say? Just a little sniff?"

  I hear a low chuckle and look up to find Sky standing in the doorway between living room and hall, wearing nothing but a pair of soft, gray sweatpants.

  "Gray sweatpants." I shake my head. "What a zaddy..."

  "I told you," he says, all husky, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm not a zaddy. You can't call me that."

  I snicker at his look of outrage. "Come over here..." I wave him closer. "Come give me a kiss, my husband."

  He kisses my cheek, and I kiss his lips, and I say, “I missed waking up beside you.”

  He kisses my forehead and smiles at the baby. “Me too. Look at this one, though…”

  “The cutest, right?”

  "Why don't I get you breakfast?” he says. “Or you can pass our little bundle off to me and you could do that if you want a break for your arms."

  "Can we both go in there?" I feel almost silly asking.

  "Of course. Let's do it. I'll whip up some omelets?" His hand comes over the top of my head, kneading my short hair gently. It sends chills down my spine.

  "Please do.” I tip my head back, kissing his wrist. “And what do I call you?” I ask softly. “Are you daddy and I'm papa?"

  "Do you want to be?" Luke smiles.

  "I don't know. Just throwing out ideas."

  "Papa,” he says, trying it out.

  "Or...I don't know. I could be dad, too,” I say.

  "What feels right?” he asks. “We've both got issues in the dad department. This should be something that doesn't make us feel...like them," Sky says quietly.