Page 4 of Holly Jolly Heresy
“And for a Nutella-pizza-crust monstrosity, you’d give up pasta? Ice cream? Fresh sourdough bread?”
Molly scoffed and dug into the gummy bear bag again in search of an elusive clear gummy. “No, definitely not.”
“But you said—”
“I just wanted to be sure you’d given my question the consideration it was due.”
He laughed and held out his hand, indicating the candy in her hand with a waggle of his eyebrow. “Bear me.”
She lifted a handful of gummy bears from the bag and dropped them into his open palm. He deposited the entire handful in his mouth in a move more appropriate for their students than for a forty-six-year-old priest.
“Your turn,” she said.
“Hmmm... Eggnog or hot chocolate?”
She scoffed. “Hot chocolate. Next.”
“I’m not sure you gave my question the consideration it was due,” he teased.
“There’s nothing to consider. Eggnog is gross and hot chocolate is delightful.”
“Valid.”
Molly turned slightly towards Caleb. The sun gilded his profile, accentuating the strong slope of his nose, the square cut of his jaw...and the white collar peeking out at the top of his shirt. It wasn’t that she ever forgot Caleb was a priest, but somehow, over the last year since he’d taken over at St. Anthony’s, she’d come to see him as so much more. She’d always thought priests were stuffy old men with severe expressions ranting about fire and brimstone, not a silver fox-in-training with a smile that lit up his whole face and a way of speaking that made her feel like the only person in the room. Not this man with his hazel and gold eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled and biceps that strained the fabric of his shirts, muscled forearms that were far too distracting when he wore short sleeves, hands so large and warm it was impossible not to imagine how they’d feel on her skin—
Still a priest. Still very much off limits and entirely inappropriate to fantasize about.
Though there had been that one night last May, when he had almost seemed to invite her to forget about his vocation and the twenty-year age difference between them.
“Did you always want to be a priest?” His eyebrows lifted and she winced. “Sorry. Is that rude to ask?”
“No. I wasn’t expecting the question, that’s all.”
“I just realized I’ve never asked you and... You joined the priesthood really young, didn’t you? I remember Gavin saying something about that.”
His smile seemed more rueful than pleased. “My baby brother does love telling the story of my calling.”
“Is that what it was? A calling?”
He hesitated and again she got the sense she’d stumbled into a question he didn’t want her to ask. “I thought it was. At the time.” She let the words settle between them, waiting for him to continue. “No, I didn’t always want to be a priest. But, to be fair, I didn’t want to be anything.”
“You didn’t dream of being a firefighter when you were a kid? I thought little boys always wanted to be firefighters.”
“Maybe when I was little, but by the time I was old enough people were asking me that question, I didn’t have an answer.”
He glanced at her, as though he was weighing how much to say, his eyes swimming with his unspoken thoughts. When he turned back to the road, a smile slid over his lips that looked nothing like the smiles he usually gave her. This was his politicking smile, the one he reserved for parents’ night and meetings with Bruce. That smile sank in her stomach like a lead weight.
“What about you?” he asked. “Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher?”
Molly turned away, focusing on the trees whipping by on the side of the highway through her window. “No. I became an English major because I wanted to read all day. But right before my junior year, my parents reminded me that eventually I’d need to be able to pay my bills, and no one was going to hire me to read. They suggested I become a librarian, but Williston didn’t have a library sciences degree. I think they were hoping I’d move home, but I enrolled in the education school instead.”
“You’re telling me if Williston University had a library degree, we wouldn’t even be sitting here right now?”
She shrugged. “We might be. Your brotherdidmarry one of my best friends.”
“But you’re such a great teacher,” he spluttered.
She barked out a laugh. “How would you know? You haven’t taken one of my classes.”
