And I had a feeling he wasn’t done playing games.
Chapter 7
Harley
Of course Craig had to flex his muscles by having us pulled over and Kingsley searched in the most inappropriate manner. That female officer had taken her darn time. I had no idea my ex could be so primitive and childish. I was more than ready to let my friends choose a guy for me, because I obviously hadn’t learned anything from the last five times. Maybe the next man would be the right one. Hopefully. I was getting tired of falling for the wrong ones.
I lifted my gaze from my shepherd’s pie and glanced at Kingsley sitting across the table, Brother Lucien on his left, Brother Matthew on his right. Sharing a meal with monks and priests felt like journeying back to medieval times, especially in this dining room with stone walls and domed ceilings, a sturdy wooden table, and a rustic iron chandelier with candles hanging over our heads. Just like this morning, we ate in silence. Which gave my thoughts a lot of room to rampage.
I’d never liked silence much. Probably because I’d grown up as an only child. My parents were amazing—I still facetimedthem once a week—but I had always longed for a home that was alive. Instead, loneliness had been my constant companion.
I forced another bite down. Not even twenty-four hours had passed, and I’d already expanded Kingsley’s horizon in the worst way possible. He’d squared off with a corrupt detective, almost been stabbed by the son of an Italian Mafia don, and groped by a female officer.
But the way he’d handled everything . . . This man was built differently. He defied everything I’d thought a monk was. His quiet courage and honor intrigued me in a way that felt too forbidden to dwell on it.
We finished lunch, then Brother Aurelius read from the Rule of St. Benedict—whatever that was. He read about how the first degree of humility was obedience without delay. Had I been obedient to God? Especially without delay?
Not really. More than once I’d felt convicted about my lifestyle. About being intimate with men outside of marriage. Craig hadn’t been the only one.
And about reading books with smut in them. The fact that still some of those sat on the shelf in my living room was proof of my disobedience to God. Smut was porn, just in written form rather than imagery. But it was all the same. It produced lustful pictures in my head and brought back memories of the things I’d done. And made me crave things God had meant for marriage.
The problem ran deeper, though. That kind of behavior was born of something. Loneliness was my guess, but there had to be more. I was around people all the time, so maybe it was a sense of connection I missed?
“Can I have a word with you in the rectory?”
Father Cruz’s question broke into my musing, and for a second, I feared my thoughts were written all over my face.
“Don’t worry, I just want to make sure you feel comfortable while you’re staying with us.” He smiled, displaying a row of pearly whites.
I huffed a laugh that oozed relief. “I’d be honored to talk to the abbot himself.”
Chuckling, he pointed at the door. “Then let’s go.”
The rectory, a squat two-story stone structure with a slanted roof, sat right behind the main building. Father Cruz invited me into a spartan study with low ceilings. Shelves stuffed with thick books lined the walls, more books and papers stacked on the wooden desk.
“Make yourself comfortable.” He pointed at two armchairs facing each other by an open window.
I crossed the worn carpet and lowered myself into one. Instead of relaxing into it, I crossed my legs and straightened my spine. Father Cruz exuded something that made me want to display my best behavior. Or maybe it was because being surrounded by priests and monks made me painfully aware of my sins. Of my constant inappropriate thoughts, especially towards a certain monk.
“Did Brother Samuel inform you about the policies we have for our guests?” Father Cruz sat opposite of me. Outside, Brother Lucien was hanging up linens on a clothesline in the beautiful sunshine. A soft breeze rustled the candle nut trees and hibiscus.
Maybe being here would do me some good. Allow me to find rest and peace and connect more with God. I felt distant from Him. Being lonely had caused me to make a lot of wrong decisions, so the distance I felt obviously resulted from my own sin. But it was like I couldn’t help it. I told myself not to sin anymore, but then my resolve was so frustratingly weak.
“He did. I have to attend all services and apart from those times am not allowed to wander outside the guest area. No tight clothing, and my skin has to be covered at all times.”
Father Cruz nodded. “I hope you understand that asking you to stay in the guest area is because we value our privacy.”
“Of course.”
“You don’t have to attend all services if you don’t want to. We have a lot going on.”
I brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “I want to. My goal is to strengthen my relationship with God while I’m here, and I find attending your prayer meetings and services helps.”
The corners of Father Cruz’s mouth lifted. “Do you feel safe in the guesthouse?”
“I do. In here in general. I don’t think anyone can get over these walls.”
“You did.”
