Saints and Sinners (A Classic Romance) (11 page)

When she finally left, with a gracious parting word and a suspicious, raised brow, Matthew shook his head.

"I think she's on to us. But if she's looking for an opportunity to catch us—" He laughed and winked. "Misbehaving around here, she's flat out of luck."

Dee didn't join in his laughter. "Matthew, while you were gone I did some thinking."

"Now I'm in trouble," he jested, anticipating her retreat and ready with his argument.

"This isn't a laughing matter. Matt. You have a reputation to maintain. And I—well, I have my own life to deal with and—"

"Save your breath, Dee. My reputation is between me and the man upstairs, not anyone else. As for the other, I already know every excuse you've turned around and about in that beautiful head of yours. So you might as well give it up unless you're ready to run as fast in the opposite direction from me as you can." He detected a momentary flicker of apprehension from her, a reaction he tucked away for future reference. "Fair man that I am, I'd advise you to prepare yourself. Not only am I persistent, I can be extremely patient when the occasion demands."

Dee's gaze darted toward the church's open doors, then back to him with a longing look.

"Is that what you wanted a word alone with me for? If that's all, I'll remember your warning and go check on my roast."

"Not so fast." He caught her arm and felt the immediate surge of heat. "That roast can wait more than I can. Let's talk in my office, in case Sally remembers she forgot to water the silk flowers."

"I thought you said you were patient."

"It's never been hard for me to stay honest. I get caught in my lies every time."

Despite her obvious trepidation, Dee laughed softly, a lovely bubbling sound. He tightened his grip on her elbow and led her into the pastor's chambers. She gave a start when he shut the door behind them.

"Have a seat, Dee." He gestured to one of two chairs facing his desk, which was neat though it had its share of letters, professional magazines, and ledgers. She sat, a little nervously, he observed. All kinds of attitudes had occupied the same chair. Grief. Anger. Joy. But never had there been cause for a woman to pleat her skirt and look at him like
that.
Anxious. Desirous. Trapped and wanting to stay.

"Nice office, Matt." Her eyes lingered on his hands as he removed the long crimson sash from his shoulders. He liked that. Enough to take his time removing the robe, prolonging the simple ritual of unfastening several buttons as if he were taking off his shirt in a far more intimate setting.

"It's modest, but serves the purpose." Deciding he'd rekindled the fire of needful tension to the safest degree possible, Matt hung up the cloth, took his place behind the desk, and studied her clasped hands. "How was your week, Dee? Any luck getting some students signed up?"

"A few. The local schools put the word out, and that helped. Oh, and I wanted to thank you for welcoming us in the church bulletin. I noticed you mentioned that I had openings for piano students if anyone was interested."

"No thanks needed. I hope it helps."

"I'm surprised you got that past Mrs. Henderson. I doubt she appreciated you giving me the plug."

He shrugged. "There's no reason she should have a monopoly. Besides, her income's supplemented by the church. In the spirit of generosity, if not fair play, she should put her sour grapes aside. Tell me, has she?"

"I don't think so." The bottom of her lip disappeared between pearly teeth.
Whoa, Matthew. Later. You've got more important things to accomplish here.
"I get a distinct chill when she looks at me. I'm not going to hold my breath waiting for more flowers on my doorstep."

Whatever chill she'd encountered was distinctly absent in the room, he thought. It felt close, warm, and
ssss
, there went that finger to the iron again. He could definitely grow accustomed to having Dee close by. No flowers on her doorstep? He'd see what he could do about that.

Matthew tapped his fingers to his lips, trying to broach another concern without offending her pride. "So... you've signed a few students. Great! Any with promise?"

"Yes. Oh, yes, there's one." She leaned forward, nervousness replaced by animation. "He's very gifted. I understand Mrs. Henderson had reached her limit of what she could teach him, so maybe she won't mind too much that he's with me now. I've had very few students with his kind of promise, and—why are you smiling at me like that?"

"Because your eyes dance when you're excited. You have so much passion inside you—" He stopped. It was there. Right
there.
He may as well have had her against the wall with his hand between her legs and his heart pounding its way out from his ribs. Matthew took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

"What I mean is, passion for one's calling is a quality I find admirable and rare." He loosened the necktie, which had gotten tighter. "But unfortunately, it doesn't always put bread on the table. I don't know what your financial situation is, but if your practice doesn't pick up and the groceries get too slim, I'd just like you to be aware that the church sponsors a food bank and—"

"We don't need any handouts."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?"

How? That I sense you have no one else to go to, and if you went to anyone, I'd want it to be me. That I can hide my want behind the guise of community until you learn to trust me and would willingly come to me for any need.
He didn't say it. He didn't say he knew their relationship needed time to ripen; instead, he held fast to a gut-deep want and belief in providence, that the time would come. Neither did he say she was the kind of woman who would choke on her own pride before she'd let her kids do without.

"Nothing personal, Dee. I'm sorry if I offended you. It's just something I make known to newcomers in case the need ever arises. And, after working with the homeless, I guess you could say it's a matter of vocational sensitivity."

Her blush was quick, a show of embarrassment for misplaced pride and apology for elevating it above others who'd had theirs stripped. Dee's reaction only strengthened his certainty she had that special quality of empathy needed in the wife of a minister. Especially for a black sheep like him.

"Of course, Matthew. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You're very kind to make the offer, but we're fortunate enough not to need what other people can use. I think it's wonderful that you help the homeless. More of us should do our share and, well... I do have some extra time on my hands. If the food bank needs a fill-in or a delivery made, I'll be glad to lend my help."

He made a quick mental tally:
She's not too proud to apologize, but plenty proud where it counts. She's gracious. A thankful unspoiled spirit. Willing to serve. Supportive. Yes, yes! She believes in what I do! And those breasts, oh, those luscious—

"Consider yourself enlisted. Could your schedule handle every Tuesday from eleven to one? We have an extension of the food bank, a lunch program for shut-ins, that's in need of a delivery person."

"You don't waste any time, do you?" She laughed. Her eyes danced some more. So did his heart.

"I believe in striking while the iron's hot." Yep, kids in school. Time alone together in a car. The iron was definitely ready to strike. "By the way, you just signed onto my route. It's a two-person job. One drives, one delivers."

"Do I get to choose which position I take?"

"Take your pick, Dee. The church has a van we use for group outings and picking up some of the country kids for Sunday school. If you'd rather drive, I can deliver." Of course he'd happily oblige her both ways once he got a commitment from her. "We can even trade, if you'd like." Yes sir, he was an equal opportunity lover in his heart.

"Sounds like a deal." They shared a gaze that deliciously lengthened until Dee reached for her purse. "I guess I should go. The kids have probably let the roast burn by now. Was there anything else you wanted to mention?"

"Yes. What happened last week." His reply was swift. So was the drop of Dee's purse and her quick intake of breath. He'd caught her off guard, as intended. As for secret pasts and future commitments, they would discuss those in good time. "I've thought about it a lot. What about you?"

"Some," she hedged. "I've had other things going on. You know, homework, interviewing potential students and—I'm sorry, Matt, last Sunday hasn't been at the top of my list."

Matthew remained calm while Dee nervously worked a sexy high heel up and down the back of her foot. The longer he contemplated her, the faster she worked it. Once the movement was close to a shimmy, he pounced.

"I get the feeling you've thought about what we shared more than a little, but it's something you're afraid to discuss. What are you scared of?"

"There's nothing to discuss. We argued. We acted on impulse. I was drunk—"

"Look, Dee, I've seen enough drunks, and unfortunately I've been sloshed enough times myself, to know the difference between 'don't know what I'm doing' irrational behavior and 'I'm feeling good and doing exactly what I want' honest responses. You knew exactly what you were doing, saying, feeling. And I certainly did. It happened. It's not going away, no matter how much either of us could try to pretend otherwise. We have to talk about this. I want to talk about it now."

Dee shut her eyes. She should have known better than to come to church today. That was no different from waving a red flag in front of a bull. But she'd been desperate to see him, even if from the back pew. night when she'd come alive beneath this man's giving touch, had learned what it meant to be a woman, to be cherished and to discover a dormant chord she hadn't realized existed until Matt brought it to life.
Had she thought about that incredible night?
A

Had she thought of anything else? Only that she missed him terribly and wanted him in a way that could never be.

"You're right, Matthew. It did happen. I enjoyed it. But pleasure has a price, and a repetition of last week's indulgence could be more than either of us can really afford. As I said, you have a reputation to maintain. From the comments Loren and Jason are bringing home from school, mine's not too great. I like you... tremendously. And yes, I'm more than a little attracted. But you're a good man and those are in short supply. And I know you're smart enough to enjoy a minor indiscretion and then leave well enough alone."

"Well, well," he said, seemingly to himself. "And she's sacrificial too. You sure know how to pick 'em." Matthew leaned back in his chair, looking very self-satisfied for a man who'd been given the brush-off. He was smiling as if he'd put a flag on Mt. Everest instead of tumbling down and being buried under a heap of snow.

"Then you agree we should put last week behind us and go on as friends?" she said, deflated at the prospect.

He tapped a finger to his mouth. She wished he'd quit that. She didn't need any reminders of just how adroit his mouth was. What she needed was him. She needed him without all the garbage defining her life. She needed him because of all the garbage defining her life. He had to back off for both their sakes. If he backed off, she'd die.

And if Matt got too involved with her, they both could.

"Not exactly," he finally said. "Has anyone, by chance, ever told you what an incredible kisser you are?"

Had anyone told
him?

"Matthew! You need to listen to me. This is important."

"Okay, you're right, this is important. We need to agree on a solution. Any suggestions?"

Suggestions? Could she have an affair with a small-town minister when staying invisible was mandatory? Right. That would be as sane as jumping over Niagara Falls. She could get the hell out of Hayes before she made Loren's curtains.
Really mature and nurturing, Dee,
she scolded herself. Just when her dependents had a semblance of home and stability she could uproot them again because of her own weaknesses. Just when she'd met the true meaning of strength, she could run for cover and never forget him.

For some reason, Dee had the strangest feeling Matthew would hunt her down. Then she'd have Vince, Nick,
and
Matthew hot on her trail. If they all got together, Armageddon could commence right there.

Dee was tired of running. She was loathe to subject Jason and Loren to any more trauma than they'd already endured. And her own needs, so long shelved, were demanding attention.

"We could be friends," she ventured to say while the internal dispute raged. "I'd like to be friends."

"I'm counting on it. Anything else?"

"You could fix my leaky faucets if you're free and feeling generous with your time."

"Faucets, no problem. What about picnics?"

"Picnics?"

"Say, next Saturday. I'll bring the wine and bread if you'll bring thyself and the kids. Be sure to tell Jason not to forget his football."

"So you're agreed to friendship and picnics with little hellions?"

"Give me two months. A kiss says those little hellions may never be angels, but I can influence the amount of fire and brimstone flung between them while you're caught in the middle. If you'll share the reins when I'm around."

"Since when did kisses enter the picture?"