Saints and Sinners (A Classic Romance) (6 page)

BOOK: Saints and Sinners (A Classic Romance)
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"Loren?" Dee rapped on the bathroom door for the second time in half an hour. "Loren, could you please hurry? The pizza party's in twenty minutes, and I need to brush my teeth."

"Aw, jeez, Dee, give me a break."

She'd like to give her a break—right between the choppers. The last few days had been hell, and Loren was the primary cause. Registration had gone smoothly. Their teachers were so warm and wonderful, Dee decided Matt had done considerable praying on their behalf. But two phone calls from the junior high principal had stolen her bliss.

Lipping the homeroom teacher was Loren's first offense. Skipping the resulting detention was her second.

"Your time's up, and I mean it. We have one bathroom and you don't have the monopoly on it, your highness."

The door was flung open. "You used to call me princess."

For a moment Dee allowed herself to remember when. Loren, the most beautiful baby she'd ever seen, the first she'd ever held. A precious, real-live baby doll who cooed sweetly while Dee dressed her up in tiny white frocks. Oh, how she'd loved her little princess and how her little princess had loved her back.

An "easy child" Loren's grandmother had sagely decreed. Where had the easy child gone? Dee knew too well. Loren's father had poisoned everything he touched, choked out the goodness of life and love within the grip of his powerful fist. But knowing Vince was the cause didn't make her angel-turned-hellion any more pleasant to raise, even if it did soften Dee's heart and strengthen her resolve to undo the spoils of his destruction.

Vince.
Suave, gorgeous Vince, who'd mesmerized a young girl and that young girl's family. He was rich. Hardworking too, though he'd disguised his dirty dealings with legal trappings. Dee had first met him more than half her lifetime ago, and she could still remember how she'd elevated him to the status of a hero to be worshipped and a dream lover she'd wished for her own.

In many ways she and Loren had grown up together. One of the reasons, she realized, that Loren didn't easily bow to her authority any more than Dee could stomach what Vince had done to them both. He'd abused the love and trust she had naively given, and he'd corrupted Loren's sweet, easy nature.

Dee's throat tightened. Remembering the good was almost more biting than recalling the bad.

"I miss my princess," she said painfully.

Loren hesitated before hugging Dee. "Me too, Dee. But your princess is gone. Gone with the mother who found out who my father was too late." She shook her head sadly. "I'm really sorry for hurting you in the ways I do. I love you, but I can't help being what I am."

"Yes, you can. We'll always have to look over our shoulders, but we have to go on. If we don't, Vince wins whether he finds us or not."

"I hate him for that. I hate him for everything."

"He's your father, so I shouldn't say it, but Vince is a bad seed. If only I hadn't been so young, I would have seen him for what he was sooner. If only—"

"I hope he burns in hell. He deserves it. Maybe Rev. Matthew can pray it comes true."

"No." Dee gripped her shoulders. "Matt is a fine, and undoubtedly trustworthy person. But even he can't know about your father."

"Vince." Loren spat out the name as if it were a profanity. "I can't wait to grow up and get even."

"We'll never get even, Loren, and that's something we have to accept. But we do have a chance to make a clean break. It's up to us to make the best of it."

"Right, living like we're poor, pretending we're someone we're not, and hiding where no one can connect mine and Jason's last name to cash in. Vince did this to us. He needs to pay."

Dee absorbed the cool hatred in Loren's voice. Despite her efforts to shield the children from the harshest truths, Loren had developed a thirst for vengeance that matched her father's—a sign that she'd gotten them away none too soon.

"You used to call him Daddy," Dee said gently, hoping to temper the unhealthy attitude.

"Yeah, well, I quit calling him that before you stopped calling me princess. Besides, Jason and I always called you Dee, and you're a lot more of a mother to us than he ever was a father."

"Hearing you say that means a great deal to me." Dee held Loren as tightly as the secrets that bound them. "I know it's hard, what we're going through, but you could help us all by staying out of trouble at school."

"Okay, Dee. I'll serve my detention tomorrow. And I'll really try to be good."

"You
are
good. No matter what happens, don't forget it."

Loren pulled away and fixed Dee with a mature gaze. "Forgetting's not easy. But I'll do my best to try."

"For Mama?"

"Yes, Dee. For Mama. For you. For anyone but Vince."

* * *

Throughout the pizza party Loren was the princess Dee remembered. Jason was, well, Jason, which was perfectly fine,
and
energy consuming. But Matthew was... not himself.

He was polite. Too infuriatingly polite. He wasn't the flesh and blood man who had recently bid her good night and left her hungering for his kisses.

"I'm so glad you decided to join us tonight, Dee," he said pleasantly. So damn pleasantly she could have been someone he'd just met. "I hope you and the kids had a good time."

"Sure did. Rev. Matthew." Jason patted his stomach. "That was awesome pizza."

"I liked the rap music." Loren studied the tips of her shoes as if she were embarrassed to admit she'd enjoyed herself, even though it was obvious, since they were the last to leave. "Thanks for inviting us."

"Anytime, Loren. By the way, how's school?"

"Okay, I guess." Darting a glance at Dee, who smiled encouragingly, she cut off further conversation by tugging at Jason's arm. "C'mon, bro. Let's go home."

"Nah, I'll wait for Dee."

"Scared of the dark?" Loren glanced from one adult to the other, then slipped Dee a sly smile. "What a woose."

"I'm not a woose!"

"Are too." With that she turned for the basement doors. Jason was fast on her heels, leaving with a quickly muttered, "Thanks, Rev. Matt."

"I knew it was too good to last." Dee shook her head while stilling a chuckle. Loren's ploy to leave the grown-ups alone was so obvious, even Jason should have seen through it. Certainly it wasn't lost on a minister who was suddenly shoving his hands into his pockets and focusing his attention on the swishing doors.

"Getting settled all right?" he asked in a stilted tone.

"Fine." Before he'd begun acting so impersonal, she would have been tempted to share her less than fine conversations with Loren's principal. Maybe keeping the distance was better. Only it didn't feel better. It felt terrible.

"Loren certainly seems to be adjusting well."

"I think, hope, she's trying to clean up her act."

"Good for her."

"It's good for me too," Dee said with feigned lightness.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure it is."

"Speaking of cleaning up, why don't I help you with this before I leave?"

"There's really no need. Just a few trash bags to take out, some cups to pick up. I can manage that."

"But I insist." Why wouldn't he look at her? Had she sprouted an extra eyeball? And why did he seem so eager to get away from her when three nights before he'd been anything but? "After all your help, it's the least I can do. Matt."

He did look at her then. A fleeting glance that rocked the floor beneath her high heels. Wearing a slim skirt and delicate gauze blouse, she'd dressed tastefully but with an eye toward pleasing a man. She'd told herself she was doing it only for herself, to buoy her lagging self-confidence. Self-confidence that had taken a great fall when Matthew hadn't seemed to notice.

He seemed to notice now. His fleeting glance was filled with raw, undiluted masculine attraction. A hungry look. One that said he'd like to gobble her up so fast, he wouldn't have time to savor a single, delectable bite.

Yummy, she decided. He was the yummiest man she'd ever met and being devoured by Rev. Matthew Peters was the most appetizing fantasy she could imagine.

"I'll take care of the cups," Dee said happily. "I saw some sponges in the kitchen and I'll wipe off the tables too."

He made an inarticulate sound she took as a "go ahead." Dee could feel his gaze hot upon her back as she moved down several long tables, gathering paper cups.

While she hummed softly, Matthew made a lot of noise pounding trash bags, she noticed. She took her time wiping the tables, wanting these stolen moments to last. When he stopped causing a ruckus, she glanced furtively at him and saw that he was staring at her as if making up for his earlier abstinence.

And if she leaned too far over the table, causing her skirt to stretch tightly across her behind, who could blame her? Her ego was suffering from neglect, due to circumstances that made the state of one's ego a trivial matter.

Dee could feel her cheeks growing warm. She could hardly believe her own actions, albeit subtle. And effective, judging from Matt's tense posture, the grinding of his teeth, and tortured cast to his gaze, which he jerked away when she turned to him with an innocent smile.

"Anything else I can do?" Dee said sweetly.

"I think you've done enough." His reply was gruff. And the way he hauled a black sack in each clenched fist spoke of fierce emotion.

"I'll hold the door open for you." The click-click-click of her heels echoed over the linoleum tile. The ragged sound of Matt's breathing ended with a whoosh when he brushed past her and his flexed arm grazed her left breast.

Now,
that
she hadn't intended. Reflexively, Dee crossed her arms as heat seeped through her. She could feel exactly where he had touched.

"Sorry," he said hoarsely. He paused. His clenched jaw worked back and forth before he tilted it in her direction. His look was brief but incisive. She flushed with giddy pleasure because it told Dee the only thing he was sorry about was that he was gripping the bags instead of her.

She'd never seen a man move so fast. He had the bags deposited on the curb and the church key in his hand before she'd recovered from his silent message.

"Get your purse and I'll walk you home."

Actually, it was closer to a trot. Dee almost had to run to keep up with his agitated stride. But she refused to vault over the steps to her porch as he did.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Matt," she said, winded. He didn't look at her but stared at a point above her head, close to the yellow bug light. "We all had a wonderful time."

"Great." For being such a sincere guy, he didn't sound too honest at the moment.

"Matthew, is something wrong?"

Very slowly he lowered his gaze until his eyes locked with hers. The force of the meeting made Dee step back. When he continued to simply stare without answering, she extended her hand. His eyes shifted to it, but he remained still, as if he were debating the merits of exercising protocol.

Just as she was about to make the decision for him by stepping inside the house and slamming the door shut in his face, Matt accepted her offering. A streak of electric sensation passed between them, and Dee's arm jerked. The current was strong enough to zap them both to kingdom come.

He didn't shake her hand, though she felt a distinct tremble in their grip. Then he firmly enfolded her hand in his and his thumb raked seductively back and forth over her knuckles until a small, muffled moan escaped her. They stared at each other's mouths while their joined hands stroked and fondled in a parody of mad, passionate lovemaking.

When the front door banged open, they sprang apart as if caught in the act. Loren looked at them with the tsk-tsk expression of a chaperon.

"I was afraid you were locked out. Dee." She pushed out the screen door until it rested against the exterior wall.

Right,
Dee thought.
And that grin on your face is just about as discreet as your
setup
to get us alone
.

"Guess I'd better shove off." Matthew rubbed his palms together and Dee wondered if he was stalling for time or wiping off the sweat they'd worked up. "Hope you can make it on Sunday."

"We'll be there. Front row. Count on it."

"I will." His smile was quick and easy—the smile she had missed more than she wanted to admit when he'd kept it from her all night after she'd dreamed about it for days.

"Till Sunday, then." Four days. Four days too many.

"Guess I'd better shove off."

"You said that already." Loren tapped her foot in time to the drumming of her fingers on the door frame.

Both adults turned on her with glaring eyes. "Good night, Loren," they said in unison.

"Good night, Rev. Matthew. I'll wait up for you in the kitchen, Dee." She spun around and went back inside.

Matthew chuckled. Dee threw up her hands and laughed.

"Loren left the door open," she noted.

"Both of them. Think she's trying to tell us something?"

"Maybe just a subtle hint." Dee inhaled the fresh breeze. It carried Matthew's scent and she responded to it unconsciously. She leaned against the wall and peered at him through half-closed lids. "I haven't been waited up for in years."

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