Page 27 of Intimately Faithful

She’d gone seven endless years which felt like thousands without looking at those blue eyes in person … she owned a box full of photos she carried carefully from place to place she regularly poured over … now one day back within the Murphy atmosphere and she felt as though she’d been plugged into the power grid. A surge of heat and fizzle warped through her system, making her wonder how she’d do without him this time when he was the one to get rid of her.

Her heart ached even as she smiled in greeting.

“Cora and I were fancying a biscuit …cookie,” she amended, “we made three different kinds.”

“Oatmeal coconut?” He asked, his right eyebrow lifted up near his hairline and God in heaven, his smile set gasoline to her already blazing fire. “Of course,” she returned, a huskiness to her voice even she heard because he was pleased.

She’d pleased him with his favorite biscuits.

“But you can’t have one until after lunch.”

Cora chuckled behind her.

“Where’s Misha?”

“I put her upstairs to nap. I’ve been listening out for her.”

“You can root through the bags; I can see you’re dying to. It’s all for you and the baby.”

“Aren’t you a good boy, pastor.” Remarked Cora.

Aoife snorted. He never used to be a good boy.

He was good in one place,her brain filled in and made her body shudder. She busied her fingers by doing as he said and grabbed a bag. It was full of babywear, from little socks and hats to onesies and pink dungarees.

Her eyes filled with water at his thoughtfulness.

“I had to guess on sizes. I forgot to ask how old she was.”

“Four months. But she’s small for her age. These will fit her perfectly. Thank you, Danny. Eh..” she belatedly remembered Cora was still in the room and listening to everything. “I mean Pastor Danny.”

The man chuckled and handed her another bag. She noticed he was chewing, that little cookie thief. “Relax, Aoife. Cora is a locked box, isn’t that right, Cora?”

“Sure am. I never told a soul that winter you ducked out of choir practice because you were drunk after Ardan had been to visit.”

“I swear I’d only been drinking Sprite.”

“You keep insisting on that, Pastor Murphy,” teased the older woman as she shooed him out of the way, so she could get to the pantry to put away all the ingredients they’d used.

Aoife watched on at the easy way the pair talked. It was obvious Cora cared for Danny in a grandmotherly way and took her task of looking after him and the household very seriously. It was nice he had someone.

Conversation took off as she went through the rest of the bags. Lounge clothes for her. Jeans and the simple type of T-shirts she preferred. He’d remembered her favorite colors and her size. He’d even gotten her a pair of pink and white Vans with rosebuds along the sides.

She put them on immediately and did a little catwalk runway along the kitchen. “How do they look?”

“They suit you,” Cora said.

“Good,” rasped Danny and when she looked at him he wasn’t even looking at her feet. He was staring straight at her. She froze right there. In the middle of the kitchen with her heart ramming up against the inside of her ribcage, she stopped breathing and was unable to draw her eyes from his intense gaze.

“Well…” announced the housekeeper. “I think that’s about me for the day.”

Blushing, Aoife was pulled from the intoxicating scene to see her smiling at the two of them like she was in on a big secret.

Danny showed her to the door and Aoife was busily folding the clothes on the table when he got back. Trepidation in her trembling fingers. “This was too nice of you, Danny. I’ll pay you back, I promise. I left my purse and cards back at the house.”

“Where did you live?”

“Just on the outskirts of town in an apartment,”

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