Page 2 of For I Have Sinned
I nod. We have that small-town feel, but we’re city enough that we attract a whole lot of people looking for different walks of life. The town is ever expanding. The suburbs spilling out into the countryside, choking out farms like Sofia’s family farm to make way for developments and progression.
It’s a game of supply and demand. There isn’t much left in the town proper, so prices are pretty high. This week alone, my commissions total almost $40,000. I mean, the houses were good sized but even the small apartments are going for more than $150,000 these days. We’re talking less than 1,000 square feet. It’s rough.
For buyers.
For me, it works out well. My bank account is happy.
It isn’t long before more of our high school turned lifelong friends find us. James is a pre-k teacher who works down the road at the elementary school closest to my office. Nora owns a boutique shop that caters to tourists. She’s been talking about expanding to make the building her store is in into an inn.
Violet is a librarian, complete with that sexy covered body look that hints at her shape and smart-ass glasses. Carter is a chef. Henry is an accountant and Wesley drives the doggy daycare bus all day. Picking up dogs and bringing them to daycare. He also does the early run for those who go home before five.
We’re an eclectic group and I’m not at all surprised that we have such an array of professions. There’s never a dull day and we never run out of things to talk about.
“Want to head to the courts?” Henry asks, stretching his arms over his head. He’s wearing a typical button-down, but where most accountants you think of are stereotypically lanky from sitting all day staring at a computer, Henry is a little more built up because he can’t sit still to save his life.
Henry has ADHD, so he’s constantly restless. Thankfully, he’s damn good at his job so his company has given him his own office. He’s never sitting still. Always moving around. Throwing a ball at the wall as he processes spreadsheets. There’s a constant input of noise so he can try to drown out all the voices in his head that pull him in eight different directions.
And when none of that works, he will call one of us until someone picks up. We stick him on speakerphone and let him ramble until he finally takes a breath, making sure that we ‘uh huh’ and ‘yep’ occasionally so he knows we’re still there. He doesn’t need interaction. Just an ear to listen to him until he can get all his thoughts out.
Anyway, his constant activity means he likes to run around. Chasing a ball on the basketball court is one such activity.
“Yep,” Violet says, getting to her feet. “I’m going to change. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”
Wesley and James join her, the three of them living in the same apartment complex. James and Violet even share an apartment.
Henry, Nora, and Carter move in the opposite direction toward their houses. We all live downtown, thanks in part to me. As the keeper of the keys, I know when something comes available first. And I can usually make sure it's affordable for my friends.
Getting to my feet, I head back inside and say goodbye to Sam and the agents who are currently at the office. Then I head out toward the cathedral. I live on the street behind it, so I’m always walking by. It’s nice to live close enough to my office that I don’t have to drive if I don’t want to. And I rarely want to.
As I get closer, I admire the flowers and greenery. They’re set up in flower beds, along paths, around benches. At first, you might not think there’s rhyme or reason to how they’re laid out, but as I get closer, I can see that they’re very carefully planted. With exact spacing around them. Color coordinated so that they almost reflect the stained-glass windows they sit under.
It’s beautiful enough that I stop to admire it. The time and dedication. Will my wife be able to master that? Hell, who’s their landscaper? I want that now.
As if my thoughts were overheard, movement under the tree to my right catches my eye and I’m staring at a man. He’s in black pants and a black shirt. His collar says he’s a priest and yet, his hands are in the soil as he sets flowers around the tree’s trunk. Moving them around until he’s satisfied.
I know without asking that he’s the one who planted all the plants. Did God tell him where to put them? Is that why they’re so perfect where they are?
Without realizing I’m moving toward him, I come to a stop, hovering at his side. He doesn’t look up at first. I get the feeling he’s ignoring me, which can’t be right. Priests don’t ignore people.
Sighing, he leans back on his haunches and finally looks up at me.
My breath catches at his striking green eyes. I notice nothing else at first as I stare into them. I get the distinct impression he’s seeing into my soul, and I squirm. Afraid of what I’ll reveal. Am I overly sinful? Am I greedy?
Swallowing, I smile. Blink. And finally, take in the rest of him. His hair is short but neat. Perfectly trimmed. His face is clean shaven, revealing sharp lines and perfect lips. His lashes are long, lovely.
He’s… beautiful.
“Hello,” he says and everything in me stirs in a way I’m completely unfamiliar with and a little frightened by. “Do you need something?”
I shake my head. “You did the landscaping?”
He nods, his gaze scanning the yard. “I did.” There’s hesitance in his voice.
“It’s remarkable,” I say.
His brows rise a little in surprise. But what has me nearly dropping to my knees next to him is the way his lips curl. Just a little. The way it hints at true beauty if he’d actually smile.
I swallow as he says, “Thank you.”
