Glancing at my watch, twenty minutes are left till five. Eden hadn’t messaged me, but I don’t have any reason to think she won’t show up tonight for her service hours.
A small smile tries to pull across my lips as I think about our interaction at the coffee shop; the look of her so flustered by my words is indescribably satisfying.
Unable to avoid his image in my mind, I grow angry at the idea of Luca being there today.
Showing up to the coffee shop was idiotic.
Inserting myself into her conversation just to keep the man from being alone with her was damn right foolish.
He said maybe one sentence to her at that counter, and I reacted like that?
What the hell would I have done if he had touched her?
Why am I reacting like this?
I've been with women in the past.
For me, it's always been simple.
Sex was just sex. Nothing more.
So why the hell am I consumed by thoughts of having my cock buried deep inside Eden?
Why do I wonder what she would look like with her hands tied up, her knees bowed in prayer to me as she-
"Father Briar," David's unsettling voice pierces the quiet, pulling me away from my sick reveries of his daughter.
"David?" I question, glancing around, unsure when the man walked in. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought," I admit, narrowing my eyes at the man.
"Did we have a meeting?"
He moves to stand in front of me, a portfolio tucked between his arm and side.
"No, not scheduled, but I did just talk to Kevin," He admits. "I spoke with him on the phone, and it would seem he was unaware how much you really knew about our... ideologies in this church. He didn't know you held the same beliefs that he and I share," David sighs, my mind still drawing blanks. "Your position was supposed to be temporary, correct?"
I nod my head. "Only a few months-"
"Kevin would like that to change," David snaps, taking a step closer. "It's not very often we find individuals who can be brought into our circle here, and given your age, you could be a great asset to this congregation for a good long while." David smiles, glancing toward the open doors leading into the confessional space.
"Kevin saw a login on his account. I assume it was you?"
No point in lying.
"Creative password," I smirk. "Inside joke?" I continue to play into whatever the hell is going on here.
"More like a dance with God," David smirks, lowering his voice.
"You saw the inventory, then?"
"Some expensive furniture," I shrug. "Any reason why?" I probe.
Anyone willing to pay any of those prices for old and outdated furniture is delusional.
"Our operation maintains Saint Michael’s opulence and keeps your paychecks coming. In exchange, we utilize the space for inventory.” He looks around the space. “It was one hell of a remodel our work funded," He smiles, tapping his foot on the floor. "Underground tunnels make for more discrete transportation.”
Laughing, I try to hide my confusion and suspicion.
"Can never have too much furniture, I suppose," I tease, winking at the man.