Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Chapter Three
Letty
“Feel free to put the paychecks into the mailboxes right there.” Marjorie points to a wooden structure behind me that reminds me of school teacher’s cubbies.
“The names are on the bottom.”
I stare at the boxes for a moment and wonder if this is the smartest way to handle money. “Is this safe?”
Marjorie laughs. “This is a church, Letty, and we’re all family here. If you put the wrong paycheck into the wrong box, it’ll get to the right person. I guarantee it.”
She gives me a look that’s equal parts amusement and exasperation.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to make a mistake.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s better to ask.”
Her smile is kind and gentle, and I nod at her words. “If you want to drop them off each Friday, be my guest.”
“No,” I sigh. “This is the most efficient use of my time, and I don’t want to make a habit of something I can’t keep up with when my workload increases.”
Pastor Braden says I’ll be an integral part of the fundraising efforts throughout the year, which will take up a lot of my time.
“Thank you, Marjorie, you’re a tremendous help.”
“Not too big, I hope?” She laughs playfully, and I join in. She carries a few extra pounds, but Marjorie is beautiful with almond-shaped blue eyes and boobs for days, even more than me.
“Nah, I think you’re perfect the way God made you.”
Her cheeks blush prettily. “You’re a sweetheart,” she says with a dismissive wave. “Better use your free time wisely because when Pastor Braden returns, he’ll have too many receipts balled up for you to sort through.”
I laugh again because I’ve already had two experiences with the Pastor’s inept bookkeeping. I’m starting to understand why this position was open.
“See you later,” I tell her over my shoulder and leave the reception area of the church to make my way back to my office.
So far, the job is going great! I have a lot of work to do just to get the books caught up for the past six months, not to mention that plenty of our church members are behind on their offerings. It’s up to me to find a way to finesse that money from their pockets to the church as promised.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts and going through my mental to-do list that I don’t notice there’s another person in the hall until I run smack into them. Into him, more specifically.
“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry.” I take a step back and put my hands out to steady the tall man with the broad chest, accidentally brushing a hand across one hard pectoral muscle.
“Oh. Sorry. Again.”
I look up and up, and then way up to see a familiar face, covered once again by sunglasses, orange and gray this time.
“You. You were at the funeral for that girl a few months ago.”
He smiles tightly. “Where’s Braden?”
I frown at his tone and take another step back.
“Pastor Braden isn’t here. I can take a message for him if you’d like.”
Even behind the flashy sunglasses, I can feel the weight of his scowl on me.
“Sorry, sweetheart, that ain’t gonna work for me. I need Braden. Now.”
I sigh and turn away. “I’ve already told you, he isn’t here. He should be back sometime soon, and you can speak to him then.”
There’s no way I’m going to let this angry, rough-around-the-edges biker scare me, even though I am a little intimidated.
The man reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me back slightly.
“Listen, sweetheart, I don’t have time for your prissy girl games. I need to speak to Braden, and it needs to happen now. Don’t make me ask again.”
I know a threat when I hear one, and I gasp as I try to free myself from his grasp, which tightens with my every squirm and wiggle.
“Don’t threaten me.”
His lips, so pink against the scruff on his jaw, curve into a menacing grin.
“I don’t threaten, honey. I make promises, and I always keep my promises.”
His grip loosens, and I yank my arm away.
“My name isn’t sweetheart or honey, thank you very much, and I don’t care about your threats. Pastor Braden is out securing items for our church members in need, and I will not interrupt that for whatever it is you need. If, in fact, you need anything.”
The man takes a few steps forward, forcing me to step back or risk being plowed over. Too late, I realize my mistake. My fear leaves me—literally—stuck between rock-hard abs and the wall.
“Oh, I need something, honey, and I’m not a man you want to keep waiting.”
His masculine scent overwhelms me, and the only thing I can focus on is his lips as they move, the beauty of the movements so at odds with the hateful words coming out of them.
“I see threats are your go-to move.” I push at his chest, but the darn man refuses to budge. “Excuse me.”