As I stared at the woman who would ultimately consume my life, I realized that my job was about to get a thousand times more difficult. I could feel it in my bones and other parts of my body that I shouldn’t have been paying attention to at the moment. Yet the tightness in my pants hadn’t eased since last night. But how could it? Even before she spoke a single word, I knew that Kate would be the death of me.

With her back turned to me, her brown hair flowed in waves, swaying with the slight movement of her body, and I felt like a teenage boy who’d opened a Playboy magazine for the first time. A man like me would sell his soul to the devil to feel the tips of her curls drag along my chest. The thought petrified me so much that I was afraid I’d blow before I even got a chance to introduce myself. I was afraid I’d grab her and kidnap her, persuade her to move away to the country where God’s wisdom couldn’t reach us, where she could be mine and only mine. It would only take a second to make such a decision and ruin my family’s lives.

Father John raised his eyes to meet mine and cleared his throat for my attention. He was turning sixty next year, and from our initial conversation earlier in the week, already boarding the senile high-speed train, making my job here easy, yet difficult at the same time.

Why senile? Each of his conversations ended with a comment about skeletons. It was beginning to freak me out a little, and I wasn’t one who was freaked out easily.

“Oh, Father Cameron, this is Katherine. The wonderful young lady I told you about heading the youth ministry.”

She turned in slow motion. I held my breath, somewhat hoping that the attraction I’d felt last night wouldn’t be there. That somehow she didn’t feel the same sizzling energy that buzzed between us the way I had. I wanted to believe that my nerves were taking over and the lust that seeped around her was only my imagination. Of course, I knew that would be a lie before she even faced me.

“Hello, Father.”

I ignored her little gasp of surprise as she made the connection because her voice almost sang to my dick, like a mermaid’s song to a lost sailor. Her scent hit me like a hangover after a bottle of tequila, and I wished to quench the thirst with her mouth over mine. Craving for her exploded like an overripe cherry when bitten through on a hot summer’s day. Her lure had pulled me into her world in an instant and kept me there since last night. I wasn’t sure why, but suddenly I had the feeling in my chest that I was meant to meet her. I had a feeling that she was the reason I’d come to Pace.

“Hello, Katherine.”

“Oh, it’s you. You’re—”

“I’m a priest, Katherine.” I nodded.

The innocence of her name still accelerated my pulse as I reached out to shake her offered hand, which I assumed she forgot she’d extended. The softness against my rough calluses, secret wounds and scars, was a direct contrast: soothing, like an instant Band-Aid. Was that slight twitch of her body the result of our touch or something else? I might have had a job that required me to act a certain way and to pledge my life to beliefs and faith, but biologically, I was still a man. A man who had needs and desires like any other. One who now fantasized, dreamt, and imagined the impossible. And then he’d confess of all his sins, promising not to make them again, deep down knowing that no matter how hard he tried to stay on the rightful path, that he was lying to himself. It was a vicious cycle because I would always remain only a man.

A man who now serves God, I reminded myself. I had a feeling I’d have to do that more often now.

“You two know each other?” Father John’s right brow rose, the way it did when he was truly interested in the question he’d asked.

“Yes, we ran into each other last night in town,” I said, thinking it wise not to go into the specifics.

“Yes, last night,” she repeated, still shocked, and still shaking my hand. I wouldn’t let go until she did.

“Father Cameron has been transferred to our parish to help with the growing youth ministry. He’ll be joining you on the retreat this summer.”

Growing youth ministry wasn’t exactly the phrase I would have used for twenty teenagers. For a little town like Pace, its inhabitants always seemed to be busy making more kids. Maybe it was because there was nothing better to do.

“Father Cameron,” she repeated. Her gaze dropped to our connected hands and she pulled away.

Damn it!

“I’ve heard many wonderful things about you, Kate. The parish is lucky to have you, and so is the ministry.”

“Ministry,” she echoed.

“Are you feeling all right, Katherine?” Father John asked, lifting his glasses to his head inquisitively.

“No, I mean, yes. It’s been a rough night, and the headache hasn’t eased.”

I wasn’t surprised, after that much tequila. The first shock of seeing me slowly eased off her face. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind, and I couldn’t wait to get the wrath of her when she confronted me about not telling her that I was a priest.

“I’m looking forward to working with you on expanding the youth program,” I added.

“Right. Well, welcome. From what I’ve been told, we can definitely use another honest soul.”

Was that a jab at my dishonesty last night? If so, her fighting spirit intrigued me now even more than it had before.

Concerned, she turned toward the rector. “Father John, does this mean you’ll be staying behind for the retreat this summer?”

Father John coughed into his hand, removed a handkerchief from his pocket, and blew his nose with the strength of a trombonist, then stuffed the soiled fabric back in his pocket. “I will try my best to be there but these old bones and youngsters don’t mix well anymore. I’m sure you will both handle the trip well.”

“I saw you dance last month, Father. You can still shake it pretty well,” she teased him. “But I’m sure we can handle it. I hope your cough goes away soon.”

Father John appeared way older than sixty. It looked like life had taken its toll on this man and aged him at double the normal rate.

“Spring seems to be getting the better of me this year, which means my nose won’t get a rest until June, at least.”

He was talking as if we lived in the great white north. I bet the folks around these parts hadn’t seen a snowflake in their lifetime. I missed snow.

“I shall pray for your health, Father.” She bowed her head, adding, “God bless.”

“God bless. I’ll let you two get acquainted.” His brow rose again before he turned around and left to the sacristy.

Acquainted? Was he kidding me? If he wanted me to get to know Kate, then he should have booked us a hotel room. Preferably not one at the Bistro. Desperate to concentrate, I pushed the thought away. There would be no acquainting of any kind going on, even if my dick felt like an overripe zucchini. If there was anything good for Kate, it was for her to keep distance from me.

As soon as Father John left, she whipped her body my way. “You weren’t wearing your clerical collar yesterday. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Father. For the way I acted and behaved. Oh my G…. shoot, I’m sorry for that too. I almost took God’s name in vain.” She brought her hand to her face and covered it with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I hit on a priest.”

I smiled at her confirmation, giving myself a high-five in my mind.

“It’s not your fault, Kate. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t upfront about my profession and misled you.”

She leaned her head to the side a little and for a moment I thought I saw a slight lift in her right brow, just like Father John’s. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It was a rough day. I left a parish and families who depended on me. It’s not easy, after years of working with the same patrons. They were like family to me.”

“Oh, I never thought about it that way. I’m sorry. You sure can handle your liquor better than I can, Father.” She laughed nervously.

“I haven’t always been a priest, Kate. And we do drink. Not as excessively as last night, for which I apologize.”

“Really, you’re the last person who should be apologizing for last night. Me on the other hand… well, it’d be a lie if I said I didn’t feel ashamed.”

“There’s nothing to feel ashamed of.”

“Thank you.” She gave me a more relaxed grin before saying, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I.”

“Which diocese are you coming from?”

I shook the allure of this woman out of my mind and put my holy hat back on. If there was anything more important than her body, it was her safety at this parish. Knowing me, it was already dangerous enough. No, I couldn’t allow her get caught up in my mess. It would be safer if she minded her job and stayed away from me, no matter how much her high heels lengthened her gorgeous legs or how short her skirts were cut.

Pants, she’s wearing pants.

From the look of her toned thighs, she should have worn a skirt.

“Rockville, on Long Island.”

She smiled as if she were familiar with the East coast.

“Oh, well, you’ve traveled far, then. They’re saying Arizona will get pretty hot this summer.” While she talked about the weather, the only heat I could feel was the one underneath my zipper. And the worst part was that I didn’t know how to stop it… and I didn’t want to.

Think winter, Antarctica, absolute-fucking-zero…

The distraction was short-lived as she took another breath and the swell of her breasts rose. Even underneath the thicker sweatshirt, the temptation of her curves didn’t ease. This girl would definitely test my limits.

She caught me off guard when she leaned in closer. Her scent infuriated my nostrils. The blood flow sped and all things that once made sense no longer did. Kate lowered her voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell Father John I gave away his secret, but he always keeps a stash of freezes in the kitchen refrigerator.”

Freezes weren’t cold enough to help me now, not unless I bathed in them, and even then, I was afraid that nothing would cool my instant arousal around Kate.

“Thank you, Kate. Arizona is hot, but we don’t always get to choose where we’ll end up, do we?” I asked rhetorically.

“I know exactly what you mean.” She smiled and I knew that from now on, each time her mouth curved, I’d weaken. I failed to realize that the number of my weaknesses toward her would grow with time until she completely consumed me. And why was she looking at me like she actually did know? Relocation for a priest wasn’t optional; and mine had been mandatory.

“So, you live here, then?” she asked.

“Yes. Good, well, it was a pleasure meeting you, again, Kate. I’m looking forward to working with you at the ministry.”

It was what a priest should have said to a parishioner, nothing more. Or at least I was trying to convince myself of that. I stepped away, indicating that I had to leave, and her smile vanished.

“We should schedule a meeting to go over the retreat itinerary next month.”

Was I reading her wrong? Did she want me to stay?

“I trust your experience and judgment.” I checked my watch, hoping to be as discreet as possible. If I stayed in her presence any longer, the man part of me would break his every promise to God.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean now. I’m in a rush as well. I’ll stop by tomorrow, and we can arrange a time that would work for you.”

“Great.”

“God bless, Father.”

“God bless.”

I turned around with relief, content to head to the rectory to catch up on work. Being a priest wasn’t exactly long hours of rest and prayer.

“Father Cameron.” I heard a gurgling cough from the side. “Father Cameron. It’s Tuesday evening. I usually give the sacrament of reconciliation on Tuesday evenings, but as you can hear, it’s a little difficult today.” He coughed again, this time forcing a chunk of something green to overfill the soaked handkerchief.

I held back the gag and looked up to the ceiling, thinking how there must have been someone up there who thought this was funny, because I sure didn’t. It had been less than a month since I’d left the hospital, and I wasn’t planning on returning because of some stupid virus I caught from a sixty-year-old.

“You’ll take my place in the confessional. It’s only a half-hour schedule on Tuesdays.”

Wait, what?

“It’s rare anyone ever shows up, but we cannot miss it.” He nudged me forward.

I thought the paperwork I’d filled out when I first moved here specifically stated that confessions weren’t part of the job. I couldn’t. It wasn’t right. I wasn’t prepared. But Father John had a tendency to forget. In addition to being senile, he was definitely showing the first signs of Alzheimer’s.

By the time I realized what was happening, my ass plopped down in a cushioned seat and a red-curtained door closed shut. The claustrophobic space reminded me of a photography dark room.

The click of high heels echoed, the sound intensifying with each step. My body ceased to function as I stiffened, wondering how I’d get away from this situation. It was one thing to do a priest’s paperwork, but quite another to listen to someone’s confession when you weren’t supposed to. Only Father John didn’t seem to be aware of my limitations.

The door opened, then closed quietly.

Her smell hit me first, and I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…”

And with these words would begin my torture of listening to her lustful thoughts, dark desires, and sins I’d dreamt could come true.