Page 72 of When Sky Breaks
“Pretty sure the entire bar heard you. Keep Sky out of your mouth. Respectfully. She cares more for her father than probably anyone in this town.”
Can’t believe what I’m about to say next.
“Who she sees and walks around town with is no one’s business. Neither is the authenticity of Tiff’s diamonds, nor what the doctor looks like in his fancy pants. I suggest you think of more important things to discuss or maybe whisper so no one fucking hears you.”
Years of being gossiped about myself may have fueled my outburst, but anyone saying anything bad about Sky riles me up. She deserves none of that shit.
Heated enough that I consider another beer to cool me down, I turn and raise my hand to signal to the bartender. However, any buzz I was looking for fizzles. I don’t want to get drunk on my birthday. Alone. And definitely not when I need to prep for the soup kitchen.
Peeling myself from the stool, I pass the gossips, rolling my eyes when they glare at me for spoiling their fun, and head away from the bar into the night.
* * *
The church stands as a quiet beacon for the weary and lonely. Present company included. I’ve slept and eaten within its hallowed walls. The least I can do is help its parishioners. Though I’m not religious, it’s hard to deny the warmth it provides.
Patting my pocket, I dig out my set of keys. “Shit.” I never grabbed the key from Ted.
I sigh and turn, leaning against the cool stone next to the front door. They used to leave a spare key under a fake rock, but since there were several break-ins, they had to quit and only provide one when necessary.
Maybe Louise is home, and I can grab it from her rather than bug Ted while he’s working. Plus, I don’t want to see those women anymore and be reminded that Johnny is sugar daddy material. I snort and pull my phone out. Hopefully, he realizes Sky isn’t in to all that and never has been.
A set of footsteps crunch across the gravel in the parking lot, and I whip my head up, my heart catching in my throat. Sky pauses at the end of the sidewalk, clutching her purse in front of her, fear playing against her features.
“It’s just me, Shortcake,” I say, stepping from the shadows into the light emanating from a street lamp.
Her shoulders sag, and she drops her hands to her side. “Thank god. Literally. What are you doing here?”
I arch a brow. “I’m supposed to be prepping for the food kitchen tomorrow, but I forgot to get the key to get in. Why are you here?”
She walks up the uneven sidewalk and pulls out a set of keys from her purse. “Guess the same thing as you. I saw Louise at the store earlier, and we started talking, and then she said she didn’t think she had anyone to get things ready. I offered to help so she didn’t have to.”
I rake my hand down the back of my neck, trying to focus on what she’s saying instead of how fucking pretty she looks. Doesn’t matter if she isn’t swathed in fancy clothes or wearing a stitch of makeup, she’s beautiful.
“Ted must have forgotten to let her know I was helping. Pretty on point for the man. He’s the type that asks where his phone is when he’s talking on it.”
Sky laughs and shrugs. “Well, should we?”
“You want to stay and help?”
“Why not? I’m already here.”
She hands me the key, and I take it, our fingers brushing. Her cheeks pink, and I wonder if she’s thought about that kiss as much as I have. After all, she’s the one who initiated it. I don’t really care if we’re entering the house of God. If she wasn’t with that fucking doctor, I’d risk a no and ask if we could do it again.
I lock the door behind us, and our footsteps mute under the plush rug leading into the sanctuary.
“Mind if we stop in here first?” I ask, for no other reason than I want to sit next to her for a minute.
“Sure,” she says, following me through the set of wooden doors. “I haven’t been here since probably that day I helped volunteer with you. Hope I don’t get struck down by lightning or something.”
I huff into the dark room, reaching for the light switch, flicking on only one so we’re not blinded. “Out of the two of us, I think it’s pretty obvious who’d go first.”
She bumps her shoulder into mine. “Enough of that.”
Thoroughly chastised, I slide into an aisle and take a seat on the cool, polished wood. It creaks under our weight.
“Besides. I looked you up, so I don’t believe for a second God smited you.”
I take a peek at her. “Oh, yeah?”