“It does feel humbling.”
“Why?”
She accepted a glass of wine, but she didn’t sip. I swirled mine, preferring this brand of dry red to the sweet variety used in Mass. Honor stared at the liquid, crimson and lovely, a perfect complement to the darkness of her skin.
“You already sent the letter of recommendation for my mother, didn’t you?”
“Of course. We’ll have a response from the diocese next week.”
“Thank you.” She breathed easier, a cleansing sigh. “It’s a relief.”
I sipped my wine. “What was the hardest part of coming to me? Admitting you needed the help…or speaking with me?”
“Are you asking because I ran out of the confessional?”
She’d done it twice now, but that wasn’t the reason. “No. I’m asking because you wanted to speak with me inside the confessional.”
She shrugged. “Lately…our conversations have been a little intense.”
“And?”
“I wanted to keep everything separate, so it doesn’t interfere with…your role.”
I frowned. “I told you. I am and always will be a priest. This is my job and my calling.”
She finally sipped her wine, gazing at me with narrowed eyes. Skeptical.
She probably had a right to be.
“Do you think you’re protecting me?” she asked.
I didn’t hesitate. “I’m saving you—just as you’re saving me.”
“From what? Each other?”
“From what challenges our faith. How did you feel when you kissed me, and we pulled away? Or when we embraced, but didn’t sin? We defied our desires, and it gave us the confidence to keep fighting.”
She frowned. “Is it confidence or pride?”
“Can’t we have both?”
“Not if it leads to another sin. Some sort of arrogance that we’re beating a force we don’t understand.”
“Understand us,” I said. “We’re strong enough to defeat what would destroy us.”
Honor took a small swallow of her wine. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t look away. “You know I bake when I’m guilty?”
“Prayer is more effective.”
“Not as cathartic.”
I tugged the rosaries from my pocket, winding them in my fingers. “Perhaps I should teach you how to pray as well.”
“Or maybe I can teach you my grandmother’s best recipes. Cookies. Cakes. Pies. I can do them all.” Honor tapped the cake carrier with a finger. “I used to spend a lot of time with her when I was younger. When Mom was…sick, before I could watch myself. I won’t make a cake from a box because of her.”
“You made this from scratch?”
“Only way I know how.” She lowered the wine glass. “I think I wanted to impress you with it.”
“Why?”
Her smile slipped. “I don’t know. I’m living on the edge of sin and absolution, and I’m not sure where I want to fall.”
“In absolution, my angel.”
“Maybe. But this dark part of me is beating the batter and icing the cake and thinking…” Her voice lowered. “Maybe when he eats this…he’ll remember me.”
Sweet sacrilege. Beautiful blasphemy.
I edged close, setting my wine next to hers. She stiffened as my hands fell to her waist. The delightful heat sliced through me, but, this time, I didn’t touch her for the sheer heretical thrill of it.
She gasped as I lifted her, setting her on top of my counter. I didn’t ask permission. I didn’t stop.
Honor tensed as I slipped between her legs. Her shuddered whisper tore through my body, my own private spiritual conversion.
“Father…” Her hands tucked in her dress, ensuring I didn’t receive even a peek of the delights I could only imagine. “What are you doing?”
“Having a slice of cake.”
“Like this?” Her lip trembled, begging for more than a hushed murmur. “So close?”
My voice laced with something darker than the chocolate icing. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course, Father.”
“Then this shouldn’t be a challenge to you.”
I reached over her head, drawing near to her, so near. Her breath tickled my cheek, and every pounding beat of my heart pushed my wretched blood lower. It hardened that part of me my faith struggled to tame.
I set the plate on the counter and pulled the knife from the drawer. Honor watched as I sliced it with a single, penetrating thrust. The icing slickened the knife, and it slid inside like silk. I lifted the moist slice, and it slapped onto the plate.
Dark, dark chocolate.
The sugar dizzied us both, but I smelled only her, that candied apple halo.