“That’s a great idea.” Patrick hoped that he didn’t sound like a teenager with a hopeless crush. It was just rare that someone shared his cheesy sentimentality. If she shared his taste for corny jokes, he would really be in trouble.
Jemma didn’t seem to notice that he couldn’t seem to stop looking at Sasha, but he could feel Sister Cortona’s pointed gaze on him. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. If he wasn’t careful, she’d rap the back of his hands with a ruler and make him stand in the corner.
“That is a great idea,” Jemma said. “Patrick mentioned that you and Hannah wanted to do a bake sale to raise funds for the pre-K program?”
Hannah declined a slice of cake, citing a still-iffy stomach, but that didn’t keep her from launching into a pitch. “It was all Sasha’s idea. We’ve approached a group of our vendors and a few of the baking influencers we’ve been tracking on social media.”
“There are baking influencers?” Patrick asked, incredulous about the idea.
Sasha rolled her eyes at him. “If you had any presence at all on Instagram, you would know that. By the way, I started an Instagram page for the church. I sent you the login details so you can put photos up.”
Patrick could feel a flush crawling up his neck. He really should have thought of starting an Instagram page if he wanted to attract younger parishioners. But, according to his brother, Instagram was for “thirst traps.” Considering his lifestyle, he had no use for those. Especially since the only person who’d made him feel anything resembling thirst was standing right in front of him.
Because he’d agreed to work with her. To save the church pre-K program. For the Catholic Church that he was the pastor of. Maybe if he could keep reminding himself of that, he would be able to stop looking at her like a moony-eyed bastard.
“Do you really think we can raise twenty-five thousand dollars with a church bake sale?” That question came from Sister Cortona, ever the skeptic.
Sasha turned to her. “I absolutely think we can. We’ll have to make sure the invite list includes people from the surrounding community with deep pockets, but I don’t see why not.” Sister Cortona gave her a stern, narrow-eyed stare. “But if we don’t meet the goal, we have other options.”
Patrick found himself hoping that they wouldn’t meet the goal on the first try because that would give him more time with Sasha. The sensible part of his brain told him that he ought to be rooting for their success. Just because her excitement was contagious and he liked to hear her laugh didn’t mean that he deserved to spend more time with her.
What he deserved was time on his knees, praying to God that they met their goal with this bake sale and this stupid crush would go away.
“Listen, we’re going to do the best we can,” Hannah said before turning to Jemma. “We really think it would help if you spoke about the importance of the pre-K program. Maybe give some examples of the difference you’ve made.”
Patrick could sense Jemma’s panic at being asked to speak in front of a crowd. “I usually only talk in front of preschoolers. Influencers?” Her voice got high on the end.
“Well, if you don’t do it . . .” Hannah’s gaze lighted on Patrick. “We can always trot Patrick out. I know the gray-haired brigade will have their pocketbooks open if he turns on the charm.”
Patrick looked at Jemma. “I think Jemma should do it. If we didn’t have her on staff, the program wouldn’t be nearly as successful as it now is. She’s the one who’s really responsible for the increase in test scores. She won’t tell you all this, but she partnered with St. Bart’s food pantry to make sure every kid who showed up hungry the first week goes home with a bag full of nutritious food every week. All on her own.”
Jemma blushed. “I just—”
“I know you can do it, Jemma,” Patrick said. “Just speak from the heart, and I’m sure we’ll meet the goal.”
Patrick hadn’t meant to “turn on the charm,” but he could feel Sasha’s eyes on his face. As soon as he looked at her, she averted her gaze to something interesting on the atrium floor.
At least it wasn’t just him, and they were both acting like teens with inconvenient crushes.
* * *
—
AFTER THEIR TALK WITH Jemma, they went outside for pictures. Sasha stopped to hug Patrick’s friend Carlos on the way out, and he wondered whether she knew everyone. Then he remembered that Sasha had planned Carlos’s wedding reception.
She took a beat to introduce herself to Maria and cooed over the baby. Patrick could picture her with a baby so easily, and he wondered what kinds of people she’d been dating who didn’t want to give that to her. If things were different—if he was different—he would be jumping at the chance.
Once they were done with pictures and everyone—including Hannah—had left, Sasha was waiting for him, sitting on the steps leading to the sanctuary.
“Do you need more measurements for the bake sale?” He wondered why she’d lingered. More irritated with his reaction to her presence than her presence itself. “Or do you need something else?”
He didn’t know if he could give her any more sage advice about her love life. Every time he thought about her dating someone, kissing them, or more, he got ideas about her doing those things with him. It was totally inappropriate, and no amount of prayer and contemplation stopped the thoughts from coming.
It reminded him of when he’d had his first inklings of joining the priesthood. It had always been his mother’s hope for one of her sons. But he hadn’t considered it seriously until he’d started seeing signs—his mother’s favorite flowers in the patch in front of the seminary offices on campus, someone calling his attachment to routine monk-like—and then Ashley had dumped him. Apparently, his grief was boring, and she thought it was a “bummer” that he had to get up early every morning and go to Mass. His explanation that his mom had asked him to on her literal deathbed hadn’t been enough for her. That had been the last straw.
When he’d gone to Mass after she left his apartment, he’d felt an inner lightness. A sense that he was where he belonged.
He’d been starting to doubt that he was called to the priesthood before he’d started spending more time with Sasha. Being around her intensified those doubts. He hadn’t realized that he’d been missing that sense of lightness and belonging from his work until she’d brought it back.
He still derived satisfaction from baptizing babies, marrying couples, and helping people. But the routine that had saved him from his grief at his mother’s death didn’t make him feel settled to his bones anymore.
At times, the collar was too tight. It was ironic that it loosened when he was around Sasha and feeling his attraction to her. Maybe that was why he’d fought getting to know her for so long.