Hours had passed since Noah had come for a visit. Well, visit was putting it mildly. If it had been anyone else who’d stopped by, I’d have said it was a solid fifteen minutes of foreplay. But this was Pastor No… As in, hands off, don’t touch, no one is getting into those pants.
Who said you’d be my first ride?
I wasn’t proud of the fact that just remembering those words on his tongue had my nipples going tight, my belly clenching. My body was readying itself for…what, exactly? Because if one thing was true, it was that Noah was a pastor. Vow of celibacy or not, there was no way he was going to fuck around just for the hell of it—or at all—before marriage. And if there was one thing I absolutely wasn’t interested in, it was marriage.
Since the store was mostly empty—as it usually was at this time on a Sunday—I took a seat in front of the window at the small table and chairs there, the only remaining pieces from when this place had been my late grandmother’s Christian bookstore and tea shop. If anyone would support the marriage of me to the dear pastor, it’d be her. Fucking with him by purposely egging him on, hoping to push him over the edge? That she wouldn’t be too happy with. It certainly wasn’t very Christian of me.
When she’d died last year, her will declaring I receive this building across from one of the local churches as a means to “bring me back to Jesus,” I’d just about passed on it. I’d been off living—and enjoying—my life away from the overbearing “love” my dear grandmother used to smother me with. The power struggle between her and my far-too-young mother had been suffocating, each using me as a means to get back at the other. Which was exactly why I’d gotten the hell out of dodge as soon as I’d been legal.
And yet here I was, back in my hometown. Causing trouble.
I slid my gaze out the window toward the building across the street, which was, as always, a magnet for my eyes. Okay, not the building. The man.
Noah stood outside, shovel in hand as he worked on the flowerbeds in front of the church. His dark hair was messier than usual, the slight curl making the strands go this way and that the only thing wild about him.
A group of older men surrounded him, supervising. The grounds committee. I snorted at that, knowing the only person over there who ever did any work was Noah himself. That was proved by his disheveled appearance. Disheveled…and completely fucking hot, even in the ridiculously frumpy clothes he chose to wear around his congregation. His should-not-have-been-hot-but-totally-was bow tie was gone—probably so as not to get it dirty—but the rest of him was the same as it’d been earlier today.
Honestly, I’d never seen someone pull off a short-sleeved button-up shirt and pleated—yes, pleated—khakis like Noah did. He did all he could to try to cover up every ounce of his body, but it still shone through. Especially when he bent over like that, his biceps flexing against the confines of his short sleeves, his sculpted ass showcased in those proper pants.
Who said you’d be my first ride?
Goddammit, I couldn’t get those words out of my head. Or how the whispered breath of them had ghosted over my ear, making me shudder. How his lips had been so close, I could’ve sworn they’d brushed against me at one point. How his body had pressed right up against mine, tight and toned and…hard. Yeah, he’d been hard—there was no doubt about that. Noah was hiding a lot under those frumpy clothes, and if his words were anything to go by, it was more than just a fuckhot body.
I shook myself out of my daze, needing to get back on sure-footing. This wasn’t the kind of game I played—at least, not unless I was the one with the upper hand. And that was exactly what I needed to regain.
Glancing down at my outfit—the one he’d deemed inappropriate—I smiled. If he wanted to play, we’d play. But he better buckle the fuck up, because he was in a league with the big girls now.
After making a quick stop off in my office to rid myself of something I definitely didn’t need, I called out to my current help, Chris, that I’d be right back.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, laughing from his perch behind the counter. “You’re going to give one of those old men a heart attack, Harper.”
“But what a way to go, huh?” With a smile and a wink, I pulled on the handle of the door and headed out into the unusually warm fall day. Hand over my eyes to block the bright sun, I called out as I crossed the street. “You fellas sure are working hard today, aren’t you?”
I had my eyes locked on Marv, the leader of the grounds committee and husband to one of the old biddies, but made sure to keep Noah in my line of sight. He paused in his movements, his head tilting up to face me. I wouldn’t look at him, though. Not yet.
“Harper, nice to see you out today,” Marv said, his eyes taking a slow perusal down my body, lingering on my breasts as he licked his lips. Wonder what his wife of forty years would think about him eye-fucking other women. Christian, my ass.
Still, I smiled, placing my hand on his forearm as I shot him and his friends a bright smile. “I could use some of your muscles over at my place. Those great big planters out front are so heavy! Think you all could give me a hand?”
“I’ve offered my services on numerous occasions, Miss Davis,” Noah said before anyone else was able to answer. “I’d be more than happy to move those planters once I’m done here.”
I spared him the briefest glance, because God knew if I looked at him for any longer, he was going to have the upper hand again. Totally unacceptable. “Yeah, well”—I shrugged and gave Marv’s forearm a light pat—“maybe I’d prefer these other gentlemen to you.”
Marv and his buddies laughed good-naturedly, but I couldn’t pay much attention to them. Not when I’d made the mistake of turning my gaze to Noah. Not when he narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching while he white-knuckled the handle of the shovel. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll help you as soon as I’m finished.”
“Now, Pastor Noah,” Marv cut in, “this lovely young lady needs some assistance, and seeing as we’re not being much help to you, perhaps we could be of service to her.” And, like the gentleman he was, he snuck a peek down the front of my blouse as he wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged me into his side.
I worked hard to school my features, making sure the perverted old man currently holding me far too close for my liking didn’t notice my flinch. Still, I couldn’t stop the slight narrowing of my eyes or the subtle clench of my jaw. Especially when Dirty Old Man’s hand got a little low on my back for polite company.
“Marv,” Noah said. Snapped, really. He took a step closer to us, his eyes locked on me as he spoke to his parishioner. And even though I’d tried as much as I could to keep a poker face to cover my discomfort, it was clear in the way Noah appraised me that he’d seen it. He knew. And he didn’t like it. “I’m pretty sure Esther said she wanted to take some mums down to the nursing home once you were finished turning over the flowerbeds here. You might not want to add more projects to your day at this point.”
Noah and I had been playing this back-and-forth game for months. I’d worked him up and pissed him off more times than I could count. But in all that time, I’d never once heard him use that tone of voice—with anyone. One that said, Do not fuck with me. I didn’t even know pastors had that tone. And I definitely didn’t know I’d be turned on by it.
Marv, as thick as a set of encyclopedias, wasn’t picking up what Noah was putting down. He waved a dismissive hand. “She’s playing bridge with her friends. An extra half hour won’t be any trouble.”
Because my eyes were locked on Noah, still mesmerized by the low timbre of his voice, the harsh lines of his clenched jaw—sadly free from stubble, as it was every Sunday—Marv caught me off guard when he tugged me toward him. I stumbled, my heel getting stuck in the crack in the sidewalk. As I tried to right myself and keep from falling—either to the ground or farther into the dirty bastard at my side—Noah jumped toward me. His shovel fell to the ground just as he caught me by the elbow, steadying me.
“Hey,” I snapped at Marv, ready to cuss him out—old man or not—because I didn’t take well to being jerked around without my consent.
“I’ll handle this, Marv.” Noah’s voice brooked no argument as he pulled me closer to him—and farther away from the Dirty Old Man. Then low enough so only I could hear, he asked, “You okay?”
I couldn’t even appreciate the feel of Noah next to me, how nice it felt to be so close, because I was too focused on what he’d said. I’d been manhandled by one guy with his hands and by the other with his words. Wasn’t that just my luck?
Marv held up his hands in surrender. “If you wanted to help the pretty lady, Pastor, all you had to do was say so.” Then with chuckles from his band of buddies, they all moseyed off, leaving the sidewalk to just Noah and me.
Once they were gone, I spun on him. “You’ll handle this?” I tugged my elbow free from his hand and crossed my arms over my chest as I leveled a glare in his direction. “You handle your balls, Noah. You do not handle a woman.”
Normally, if any guy had said that to me, he’d find out exactly how painful a stiletto on his arch was. But with Noah? God, he confused me like no other. Infuriated me like no other. Said something completely caveman, followed by concern for my well-being. Who did that?
And why the hell was I so turned on by it?
“It’s just a turn of phrase,” he said, still watching me. Still appraising. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous? Are you shitting me right now? You are the one being ridiculous. All I wanted was some goddamn help moving my goddamn planters and then you—”
“And then I made sure you didn’t fall on your ass right there in the middle of the sidewalk.” He dropped his gaze, letting his eyes travel over me. From the tips of my high heels, over the silk of my seamed stockings, to the skirt he had no idea I was bare under, and all the way up to the blouse he thought was inappropriate for me to wear. Especially around the dirty old men. Then he bit his bottom lip, his eyes dropping back down to my stocking-encased legs. “I wouldn’t want you to run those silky stockings you have on.”
My nipples hardened, my pussy growing wet—all because of a slow perusal from a man. No, not just any man… Noah. “You have a problem with my stockings, Pastor No?”
“No problem, though I do wonder how appropriate they are, considering you seem to want to work on the outside of your shop.”
I nearly laughed. He thought he could play chicken with me? Call my bluff, and see if I’d break? Little did he know it wasn’t in my DNA to back down.
Two steps and I was in his space, breathing in his scent as his heat enveloped me. He swallowed but didn’t step back. Feeling emboldened, I lifted a hand and played with his very top button—always buttoned up, always hiding himself. Slowly, I pushed it through the hole, revealing more of his skin than I’d ever seen. A small dusting of dark hair littered his chest, and I ached to see more.
“I wasn’t exactly planning on doing the work, now was I? And considering I’m not wearing any panties under this skirt, the stockings are the least of my concerns.”