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A Christmas Duet : Two Contemporary Tales of Holiday Romance by Amy Lamont (4)

Chapter 4

When Faith’s alarm blared at 7:00 a.m. on Black Friday, she slapped it off. Hard.

She remained in bed moaning and groaning for a few minutes. What was so important that she’d set her alarm for this ungodly hour? Her bank account was on “E,” so shopping the Black Friday sales wasn’t an option. Not to mention, she hated shopping with the hordes that turned out the day after Thanksgiving. The best mall in the world was the Internet.

She turned over and pulled the covers up to her chin, staring as the digital numbers on the clock changed to 7:02. Her eyes drifted slowly closed. She snuggled deeper into her warm, comfortable bed relishing the thought she had no work for three days.

As if that thought triggered the memory, she could clearly hear her mother’s voice in her head. You’re going, Faith.

Crap. She set the alarm because she had to get up and ready to volunteer at St. David’s. She’d promised her entire weekend to it. What had she been thinking? Well, okay, it’s not like she had a whole lot of choice in the matter. Her mother left her few options.

The reason for her reluctance to volunteer when normally it would be right up her alley suddenly loomed in her mind's eye. Father Michael Flannery. The priest. But not that kind of priest. He was a priest who could date. A sexy, warm, charming, music-loving, sexy priest who could date. And yes, Faith was well aware she’d gotten sexy in there twice.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before tossing off the covers. Directly across from the bed, her outfit for the day hung over the closet door. She’d spent way too much time last night picking out clothes. She wanted something that looked good without making it look like she was trying too hard to look good. In the end, she’d given up and decided the best thing to do was dress to suit herself—jeans, a black t-shirt layered over a more fitted, long-sleeve gray one, and comfy boots.

“Not like he’s going to notice me,” she grumbled as she headed for the shower. She wasn’t exactly his type. He was a priest, for God’s sake. She wrinkled her nose at the pun before grimacing at the sentiment. Father Michael would never be interested in someone like her. As her mother liked to point out, Faith was a wild child. She kept crazy hours, didn’t have a “real” job, and spent evenings in some of the seedier bars and clubs the tri-state area had to offer—all in the name of a music career her mother promised would never amount to anything.

The hot water beat down on her as the fear took over. At twenty-six, there was a good chance she’d never be a huge star. Chances were her dreams of hearing her own songs on the radio were never going to come true. She heard her mother’s disapproving voice criticizing her for choosing to major in music in college—Faith, you should major in something like business or education. At least if the music doesn’t work out, you’ll have something to fall back on.

At the time, Faith rolled her eyes and went on her merry way, loving every minute of immersing herself in music with other people who were as passionate about it as she was. And there was that, too. She’d been so passionate about the music. When did her feelings change?

In the beginning, she’d been thrilled with every gig she got. She didn’t care what the pay was as long as she got a chance to play. Now, though, she was getting tired of it. She was sick of living month-to-month wondering how the rent was going to get paid. She hated the bars with the sticky floors and slick managers. She loved the guys she played with, but they were her age or older. She hated to say they’d given up on making it in the music business, but the truth was they all had day jobs. Two of them were even married with kids. The gigs they played were enough for them. They still had music in their lives while they went about the business of being normal adults who did things like bought houses and paid their bills on time.

The idea of trying things differently had been floating around Faith’s head for several months now. Last night, coming out on the losing end in comparisons with her sister and being reminded what it felt like to be passionate about her music, just brought it to a head. Maybe it was time to make some changes.

“But not right now.” She looked at the clock as she pulled her shirt over her head. They’d agreed to meet at St. David’s at nine, and she was already running a few minutes behind. Major life changes could wait. Right now it was more important she put a little hustle in her step to avoid a lecture from her mother on the virtues of punctuality.

Maybe, too, getting there early meant she could have her pick of jobs. She’d be sure to pick one well away from Michael. As nice as he was to look at, she didn’t need the reminder she wasn’t right for a man like him.

* * *

Faith’s plans went out the window the moment she arrived. She definitely wasn’t early. By the time she and her family got there, the church and the auditorium swarmed with volunteers. Hoping she could blend in before she was noticed, Faith’s gaze darted around the room seeking a place she could offer her services without talking to Michael first.

Luck was not on her side. Before Faith could stop them, both her mother and her sister waved and called out to him. So much for lying low.

“Good morning,” Michael said as he walked over to them. “Happy to see you all made it.”

Was it Faith’s imagination or did his eyes linger on her? Nope, must be her imagination. Or wishful thinking.

“Good morning, Father Michael,” Maddie said with a saccharine smile.

Faith’s pulse leapt. Michael must not have told Maddie to drop the “Father” from his name. There was no chance her flirtatious sister would pass up the opportunity to get more intimate with the oh-so-attractive priest.

“We’re so happy to be here,” her mother said. “My parents send their regrets. They weren’t feeling up for a full day of activity today. I guess that’s what happens as you get older.” Her last words came out on a regretful sigh.

Faith suppressed a giggle. She’d bet her next paycheck her grandparents weren’t too tired because of their age, but rather because they’d stayed up all night christening the bed in her mother’s guest room.

“I understand,” Michael said smoothly. “I’m happy to have the three of you. Do you have a preference as to where you want to lend a hand?” He went on to explain what was going on in each area of the church auditorium.

“Oh, Mom and I will probably do best in the kitchen. We can help with the food prep and service,” Maddie said. “I just love to cook.”

“Maddie is an excellent cook,” Faith’s mother agreed with a smile for her “good” daughter. “The kitchen is usually my domain, too.”

“Great. How about you, Faith?” Michael turned the full force of his blue eyes on her and, for the first time in her life, Faith found herself tongue-tied. She stalled for time by looking around the room, trying to think of something, anything, to say.

Her gaze landed on a spot in the corner of the room. There was an area rug rolled out and a number of different toys scattered around. There were already two small boys busy pushing trains around on the carpet.

Turning back to Michael, she still had trouble forming words. Had he been this handsome yesterday? It immediately struck Faith he had indeed, but he’d also been a different type of priest yesterday, at least in her mind. Impatient with herself, she gestured over to the corner of the room. “Do you need help over there?”

“That’s the perfect spot,” Maddie chimed in before Michael could respond. “As far as you can get from the kitchen.” Maddie laughed at her own joke. Faith narrowed her eyes at her sister.

“Yes, I’m afraid Faith doesn’t have much talent in the kitchen,” her mother agreed. “But she’s wonderful with children. She’d be perfect to help out with the little ones.”

Faith’s jaw dropped. Had her mother just paid her a compliment?

“Great,” Michael said. He pointed Faith’s mother and Maddie in the direction of the kitchen and the volunteer in charge of organizing things there. “And Faith, I can get you started in the children’s area.”

Faith wasn’t surprised to see annoyance cross her sister’s face at being passed off to somebody else. She seemed to be hoping for a little personal attention from Michael. Faith felt like sticking her tongue out at her, but settled for a small gloating smile.

The smile left quickly, however, as she realized how silly she was being. Why wouldn’t Michael prefer Maddie? Maddie would be the perfect wife for the head of a congregation. She had all the domestic skills Faith lacked. Not to mention, Maddie was the queen of volunteer projects. Faith could easily picture Maddie heading up church bake sales, ironing Michael’s…whatever he had to wear, and being the perfect little wife. Even their names sounded good together—Michael and Maddie. She could almost see the engraving on the wedding invitations.

“Everything okay?” Michael’s deep, quiet voice pulled Faith from her thoughts.

“Yes. Fine.” She shook her head, as if the motion could shake out the picture of Maddie and Michael walking down the aisle together. Gross.

“You sure?” Michael took a step closer and his gaze roamed her face.

Under his intense scrutiny, Faith could only nod. She swallowed hard once and then again, but couldn’t make herself look away from his intent perusal. A small smile quirked the corner of his lips, and Faith couldn’t help but linger there, staring at the perfect mouth and imagining what it would feel like to have his lips lower to meet hers, softly at first, and then….

“Father Michael! Father Michael!” The voice of the little boy dancing around their legs broke her from her daze. “Come see my train.”

Faith smiled as the boy, who had to be around five, tugged on Michael’s hand, pulling him over to the play area on the rug. Instead of paying lip service to the small boy’s enthusiastic chatter, Michael got down on the floor and sat cross-legged, asking the boy serious questions about everything his train could do. The other boy, this one about three years old, wandered over and leaned into Michael’s side. Michael reached up and, in an action that seemed completely natural, pulled the little one into his lap while the discussion of trains continued.

Did he have to be so perfect?

Throughout the morning and into the afternoon, Michael stopped to check on her. The children’s corner had gotten crowded, and Faith and another volunteer worked hard to keep the peace, hand out juice boxes, and make sure all the kids made it to the potty before any accidents happened.

“You look like a natural,” Michael said when he stopped by for the tenth time that day. Not that she was counting or anything. And she certainly hadn’t paid any attention to the fact he had only popped his head into the kitchen twice.

“A natural?”

“With the kids. They all seem to really like you.”

Faith smiled. “I like them, too.”

Michael nodded with a smile of his own. “It shows.”

Faith discreetly pointed to a girl with platinum blonde hair sitting on a corner of the rug reading a book. “See her? Sarah’s seven. She asked me how I thought she would look with a streak of hot pink in her hair. She totally rocks.”

“What did you tell her?” Michael asked with a laugh.

“I told her to hold off. I did that once when I was sixteen. It looked cool, but my mother flipped her lid. The streak of pink didn’t look good enough to make it worth all the lectures I had to listen to. Sarah told me she completely understood.” Faith giggled. “She even rolled her eyes. She’s great.”

“I can see why the kids gravitate toward you.”

“Probably because I’m usually acting like one of them.”

“No,” Michael said, “it’s because you treat them with respect. You see them for who they are and you don’t talk down to them because they happen to be kids.”

Faith beamed at him. No matter which of her shortcomings were pointed out to him, he seemed determined to see only the good.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Oh boy. There was that look again. If he kept gazing into her eyes she was going to start getting ideas.

Oh, and speaking of ideas, something occurred to her as she surreptitiously watched Michael during the day. Lots of the female members of the congregation sought him out throughout the day. Some of the reasons seemed legitimate, while others might have been less necessary. But there didn’t seem to be any overt flirting.

“How come you’re still single?” She wanted to take the blurted words back the moment they left her mouth. She’d been so distracted by his lips, she forgot to pay attention to her own wayward mouth.

“What?” He leaned back and laughed.

“I mean, I’m just surprised.” Faith paused, trying to collect her thoughts, but couldn’t keep from doing some more blurting. “It’s just, I met a bunch of single women today. I thought they’d be all over you. You’re so…perfect.”

Dear. Lord. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? That wasn’t what she’d intended to say. At all. She opened her mouth only to close it again.

“You think I’m perfect?” He laughed again, and Faith could feel all the blood in her body racing to her cheeks.

“Well, I just mean….” Damn it, why couldn’t she have forgotten how to form sentences two minutes sooner and spared herself this moment?

“Faith.” Michael reached out for her hand and tugged until she looked up at him. “The women in my church think of me first and foremost as a priest. A few may show interest here and there, but when it comes down to it, I guess the whole man of the cloth thing is a real turn off.”

Faith sucked in a breath and then gave a startled laugh. She hadn’t expected him to couch things in quite those terms. But seriously, how could these women not see the man behind the collar? “They must be blind, deaf, and dumb not to notice what’s under the cloth.”

This time Faith wasn’t taking any chances. She pulled her hand from his and clapped both hands over her mouth. She would not allow one more word to slide from her lips today. She was taking a vow of silence. She should never, ever be allowed to speak anywhere near this man.

With her eyes wide open from the shock of her wayward words, she stared at him. She waited for him to brush her off gently, maybe give her a tight-lipped smile.

But the rebuff didn’t come. He smiled all right, but it was warm and gentle and went all the way up to his eyes. He took a step closer so she had to tilt her head back to keep her eyes on his. He reached his hands up toward hers, but Faith shook her head. No way was she letting him take her hands from her mouth. That way was danger. Who knew what might come bubbling out next. She might propose to him.

Michael just nodded and gently pulled her hands away from her face. Her head dropped down, but he wouldn’t allow even that much escape. He used his finger on her chin to raise her eyes back up to his. “Faith, don’t look away. Please.”

She looked at him. Blessedly silent for now. Although, what could she possibly have left to say?

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