Page 91 of The Kiss Keeper
Still reeling, he shifted the helmet under his arm and pulled out his wallet and placed a fifty on the bar.
The bartender shook his head and slid back the bill. “No worries, man. It’s always on the house for the sisters.”
“But I feel like you’ve earned this,” he said with the hint of a grin.
The bartender dropped the bill into the tip jar. “Thanks, and good luck with your girl.”
He nodded to the man. Curse or no curse, he needed all the luck and divine intervention he could get. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, ready to find Natalie when he found Sister Evangeline sitting atop a motorcycle with an attached sidecar.
“What’s all this, Sister?” he asked.
“I told you, God’s work,” she answered with a deceptively sweet smile.
He cocked his head to the side. “God’s work is riding a motorcycle?”
“No, you idiot,” she said with an annoyed shake of her head. “God’s work is borrowing Dominic’s bike to take you to Camp Woolwich to find Natalie.”
His brow creased. “You can drive that thing?”
Like a tiny nun ninja, she kick-started the old bike and revved the engine.
“Holy—” he began, but Sister Evangeline pinned him with her gaze.
“Cow,” he substituted for holy fucking crazy shit! Because that’s what this was.
“Get in,” she called over the grumble of the engine.
He paced the sidewalk. This is what he wanted, right? A chance to get her back. The opportunity to show her that he loved her and that he wanted to make a life with her. He stared at his reflection in the window of the shop next to the bar when a sparkle caught his eye.
A ring.
He pressed his hands to the glass to find a Natalie green emerald, right there, staring up at him as if the universe had planted it.
“Give me a second,” he called to the nun, then ran inside, and, in less than five minutes, he’d purchased a…what?
An engagement ring?
He stared down at the sparkling gem. “Sister, do you have a phone?” he called over the engine’s sputtering purr.
The woman reached into a pocket and handed him her cell. “Don’t let Sister Anne know I have this.”
He mimicked zipping his lips, then clicked on the web browser, and searched for Camp Woolwich. When the page came up, he saw the button he needed, completed the transaction, then handed the phone back to Sister Evangeline.
“You didn’t cancel my Netflix subscription, did you?” she asked.
“No, I pledged to donate ten million dollars to Camp Woolwich,” he said, tucking the ring box into his pocket, then put on his helmet.
The nun’s jaw dropped as he maneuvered his massive body into the snug sidecar, grinning like the happiest guy on earth because he was.
He was all in. All that money would be hers, just like his heart. Even if she were to kick him to the curb, he wanted the camp to have it. With or without him, that money would provide the funds for generation after generation of campers.
He glanced at the nun. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive after that martini?”
The woman scoffed. “You think one martini does anything for me. I could drink you under the table every day of the week and twice on Sunday,” she called, looking half her age with a wide, girlish grin.
He didn’t doubt it.
The nun revved the bike, and they were off, speeding down Main Street. The shops and restaurants thinned out as the motorcycle zoomed down the highway toward Camp Woolwich. He relaxed into the snug space and allowed his thoughts to drift. Memories of his mother and father, once locked away in his heart, came flooding back, washing over him like the tranquil coastal breeze.
