Page 19 of Bad Habit
Three
Mac
Itried to pick my jaw off the sidewalk.
“What’s wrong?” Faith asked.
“You look…” I searched for words, but had forgotten every single one. “Amazing.”
“Thank you.” She smiled softly, and my knees almost buckled. I’d thought she was beautiful before, but her baggy clothes, clunky shoes, and tight bun had been hiding buckets more beauty than I’d expected.
Her dress was pale blue, matching her eyes, and her hair fell like soft white silk over her shoulders, some stray pieces decorating the front of the dress that scooped down over her breasts which, while hidden by fabric, looked perfect—the size of summer peaches. She was thin, but elegantly so, and the dress flared out from just below her breasts to gently wash over her body, stopping just below the knee.
“It’s not too much?” She pressed a hand to her belly, making me realize I was staring.
“It’s perfect.” I was grateful I’d worn a suit and had snagged a reservation at the Tonga Room downtown. It was touristy as shit, but she seemed so old-fashioned, so I suspected the tiki bar would be her idea of a place you went on a date. If nothing else, it was fun there.
A reservation hadn’t been easy, but Faith was worth it.
Still—my gaze ran over her body again—I couldn’t help but fantasize what it would be like to touch her, kiss her, never mind fuck her. Even those words in my mind seemed dirty, perverted. I needed to seriously check myself.
“Shall we?” I gestured, and the limo pulled up beside us.
The driver unlocked the back door, like I’d asked, and I opened it for her. “Your chariot awaits.”
“We’re going inthis?” Her expression was hard to read. She seemed upset. Turned off.
Not at all my plan. “What’s wrong?”
She rubbed her hands over her bare arms. “All this, it seems so, so decadent. Such a waste. The people in this neighborhood…”
“Hey, I live in this neighborhood.”
One of the sisters, wearing a full habit, stepped out of the gym door behind her. “Faith.”
Faith turned toward the nun.
“What did we agree?” the sister asked, then whispered something into my date’s ear.
Faith hugged the older woman and then turned toward me, smiling. “Thank you for arranging this. Really. I feel so spoiled.”
“It’s my pleasure. You deserve to be spoiled.”
Faith’s cheeks pinked as she passed me and slid into the open limo door.
“Do I know you?” the sister asked me, eyes narrowed.
I shook my head. Our family hadn’t gone to St. Iggy’s with any regularity since we were little kids, and I doubted we had a good reputation even back then.
The sister grabbed my forearm and pulled me toward her. “You be good to her. Respectful.”
“Of course.”
“Make sure she has fun, but…”
I raised my hands. “I get it. She’s innocent. I’d never do anything to hurt her. Really. You can trust me.”
The sister nodded as she backed away. Then she bent down to look into the limo. “Have fun, Faith! Remember what we agreed.”
