Page 11 of Property of The Grump

“And you’ll totally be nervous that he’ll find out you went. I’m a little surprised he doesn’t have a tracker on you yet.”

“He does. I had to leave my phone behind and borrow a car from the lady that does the cleaning. She comes twice a week, and we have a little arrangement. I make her kids those hand sewn creatures I make, and she lets me use her car for the day while she’s here. It’s high risk, but it’s worth it.”

“Girl, that’s just messed up.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“If you know that, why are you putting up with this? Do you really think Zane would hurt you?”

I glance down at my arm and stare at the bruises he’s left behind. It’s not the first time this has happened, and I know it won’t be the last. That, and I know what his family is capable of. His father made his own daughter disappear. No one in that family would think twice about doing the same to me if I did anything to ruin Zane’s image, which includes divorce.

“Yeah, I do.”

Tilly sighs as though she’s annoyed with me, and I don’t blame her. I’d be annoyed with me too. “Then why not let me tell my brother. He has strings at the police station. He’ll—”

“He’ll ruin his career trying to help me. Trust me. If I thought I could leave, I’d leave. Look, I’ve gotta make this menu now for the cupcake thing. I’ll text you later about a day next week.”

“Fine,” she groans, “but at the very least have a little fun tomorrow. You need it. Maybe Father Anderson will take you for a ride on his motorcycle. I hear he likes taking it down to this little forest outside of town to fish.”

I forgot priests would have a real life outside of the church too.

“That would be weird.”

“Why? Why is it weird to go for a nice long ride with a big, burly man who makes you feel good? Nothing can come of it? The man is a priest. Plus, your husband ordered you there.”

“I gotta go.” I shake my head as I pace the room back and forth. I’m pretty sure I’ve worn a path in the hardwood at this point. “Love you!”

“Love you more!”

When the line disconnects, I sit down on the wingback I was pulled up from and stare at the computer screen. I’m hovering over the search bar, ready to look for baking inspiration, but I’m stuck on the picture of the super-hot, silver fox, biker priest, and the tingle between my legs I didn’t see coming.

Chapter Five

Kade

Seven Years Ago

My mother sits in the front pew, her face buried in a leather-bound Bible she’s had since she was a child. I remember the story she told me about her mother giving her the book like it was yesterday. Probably because it was. She really enjoys retelling the story and finds a way to work it into conversation at least once a week.

According to Mom, the Bible was handed down to her by her mother on her twelfth birthday, right after her father passed. It was her prized possession, and everywhere she went, the Bible went. The pages show their wear, as does this old church she grew up bringing it to. Don’t get me wrong, even in its heyday this church was nothing like one of the fancy churches up in the Springs, but it had its appeal. Now, it’s weathered, gray, and most would say… falling apart.

When I first took over the parish, I’d planned to renovate immediately, but given how small our congregation is, finding the money to do major renovations is challenging, even if I do all the work myself.

“Honeybun, you look stressed.” My mother glances toward me, her fragile hands still holding the book tight as she stands from the pew and makes her way over. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything.”

I pull her in for a hug, ignoring the slight tremor in her stance that’s getting worse and worse. The doctors say there’s nothing to be worried about, but I see it as a sign of aging. A sign that someday her spot in the front church pew will be empty and the family I once knew will all be officially gone.

“Just thinking about this place.” I breathe her in as I speak, the scent of leather emanating off her skin from her years of work with horses as a young adult. “There’s so much to do. The siding needs to be replaced, the front steps need an overhaul, the windows need some upgrading before winter, and I think all of that is going to take a back seat to the roof that started leaking last weekend.”

My mother stares up at me, her blue eyes like glass under the light shining in from the vaulted windows. “That bake sale will bring in some money, but maybe it’s time we look into something bigger than a bake sale to generate funds. Back when I was on the farm, if we needed work done that we couldn’t afford, we’d barter time for products or vice versa.” She reaches her soft hand toward the hard edge of the church pew as she talks. “Let your old mom think on it. I’m sure there are still some good ideas rattling around in there somewhere.”

She slips down into the second-row pew as though her legs are tired, her Bible still in her hand as she stares toward the piano in the corner. “You know this place used to have a choir that sang louder than the thunder, and windows painted with colors that—”

“Turned the sunshine into stories.” I grin and slide down next to her on the wooden pew. “I remember the pictures you showed me. I’d love to get windows back in here like that again someday soon.” I kiss the top of her head and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “How are you? I know today is extra hard.”

“Oh,” she sighs, still staring ahead. “Today’s not a day I like to remember, but it’s a day, nonetheless. I’m lightingcandles and making Bree’s favorite chocolate cake, like usual. I’m sure you’ll be stopping by.”

“I will,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “This memory popped up on my photo reel yesterday. You remember that night I convinced Bree to take Dad’s bike out for a joyride with me?”