Penance

“Bastard!”

“Did you hit your head again?”

“There’s no bloody room to move and I can’t get the right angle to do this properly. Feckin’ hell!”

“Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” Emma laughed from somewhere above him. 

He sat up, careful not to hit his head this time. “I’ve made bags of this. You’re going to have to call the plumber.”

Emma hopped down from the counter and gave him a peck on his cheek. 

“Ah, well, no worries. I budgeted for it, so it won’t set me back any. Thanks for trying.”

He stood up and stretched and tried not to feel old when his back cracked and popped. He’d been under the sink for hours and he was not a young man anymore. 

The month since the wedding had been a mix of heady and unsatisfying. The snippet of conversation he had overheard the day before the wedding, wherein Emma had stated she was incredibly busy, had turned out to be painfully true. She worked nearly around the clock to get the new café open and this was a busy season for him, too. Weekend weddings were the norm, plus services on Sunday. Trying to find time to be together was frustrating. 

In a bid to maximize the time they did have, he offered to help get the second café ready for opening. His heart and his head didn’t regret the decision, but his body had taken to reminding him - often - that it wasn’t happy with this new hobby. 

He glanced over at Emma and his heart sped up from the look of unadulterated lust in her eyes that she was attempting to conceal, badly. He stretched a bit more, letting his shirt ride up to display a swath of bare skin. She bit her lip and turned abruptly to busy herself with something on the counter. 

That was another frustrating thing - she was really sticking to taking it slow. In the rare instances when they had a chance to meet up and had an ounce of energy to spare between them, his body was drawn to hers, like a magnet. Their kisses were as hot and heavy as before, but she limited their groping to over-the-clothes (mostly) and there had been no sex. He’d admire her commitment if he wasn’t so damn horny all the time. It was like being in secondary school all over again. On the one hand, making out like this was hot. On the other hand, his hand (heh) was starting to ache from the workout he’d been giving it. He wasn’t going to rush it this time and he respected her decision but he wasn’t above offering a little temptation. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and made a face at the greasy feel of it. 

“Are we still on for dinner?”

She turned and flashed him a blinding smile. “Yeah, if you still feel up to it.”

He grinned. “Yeah. Just need to grab a quick shower. Feeling a bit manky. Meet you there?”

She frowned. “Didn’t you bring a change of clothes?”

“I did, but the grease in my hair could supply a chip shop for a week.”

“Ew,” she wrinkled her nose, “that is not a visual I wanted!”

“Sorry! Sorry!  But if I don’t go shower all I’ll be able to think about is how gross I feel and that’s not what I want to be thinking about when I’m with you.”

He felt a surge of happiness when she visibly softened at his words. 

“There’s a shower in the loo. Open the door to the left of the stall. There’s a small shower. Got tired of wearing half the café home and had it installed for this location. A splurge, but it will be worth it next time I’m covered in powdered sugar and would like to get home without being mauled by squirrels.”

“Squirrels?”

“Fat bastards have a sweet tooth in their maw and murder in their hearts,” she grumbled. 

“Ohh-kay then. And you thought my feud with the foxes was weird,” he teased. 

“Oh, it’s not a feud. I’ve given up and offered them sacrifices of chopped nuts and fondant.  But they’re greedy little fucks. And...are you laughing at me?”

He let out the laughter he’d been holding in. 

“Just great,” she huffed. “I tell you I may be in mortal danger and you mock me! Fat lot of help you’ll be when they kidnap me and force me to bake for them in their squirrel fortress in the park!”

He continued to chuckle as he cupped her face in his hands. 

“You,” kiss to the nose, “my love,” another kiss to the nose, “are absolutely mental.” He was pleased by the flush that lit her cheeks at his endearment.  “And I will shower and be out in a mo.”  He gave her lips a parting peck and sauntered off to the shower, peeling his shirt off in the process to give her a little show in the hopes that she would join him. The jangle of the door as he hit the loo lights dashed his hopes and he had a few unkind thoughts about whoever just came in. 

***

He indulged in a quick wank in the shower to take the edge off, going through the highlight reel from their night together and a few of their sexier interludes from the last month. He respected her choice and didn’t want to pressure her by breaking down over the starters and begging to go down on her. He was also still a man of the cloth, albeit a different one these days, and inappropriately horny was not a good look for him. 

Dressed and refreshed, he ambled back to the dining area. 

“...thought you’d change your mind,” a soft-voiced blonde woman was saying. 

“Pen,” Emma sounded exasperated, “why would you think that?”

“Pen” was about to make an impassioned speech about something based on her expression, but she swallowed the words as soon as she spotted him rounding the corner. Her face smoothed out into a warm smile. 

“I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” She tilted her head to the side and gave him a curious once-over. 

“Penelope, this is James. James, Penelope,”

James reached out and gave Penelope his best Sunday service handshake. 

“Penelope,” he nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

She grinned. “Nice to meet you, too. Didn’t mean to interrupt; I’m sure there’s a lot more work to get done.”  She leaned nearer to Emma. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked softly. “Want to come by mine later on for drinks? I picked up that whiskey you like.”

Emma didn’t look embarrassed or caught out. She simply shook her head and said gently, “Actually, Pen, I already have plans.”  She didn’t look at James or indicate in any way that those plans were with him or that the night would very likely end in a gratuitous amount of heavy petting and sloppy kisses.

***

The evening had been wonderful. They’d eaten at a little pop-up restaurant that specialized in Korean barbecue and found a nearby Waltz in the Park event where they spent a few hours dancing under trees wreathed in fairy lights. 

It was getting late and they both had to be up early the next morning, but he had insisted on escorting her home, like a proper date. When she slipped her hand into his, he had to resist the urge to pin her to the nearest wall and snog her senseless. 

“You’ve surprised me, you know.” The street lamps illuminated her face enough that he could make out the barest quirk of a smile on her lips. 

He squeezed her hand and pulled her a bit closer. “Really? How’s that?”

“I thought you’d be grilling me about Penelope over the starters.”

“Oh. That.”

“Oh. That,” she gently mocked. 

He ran his free hand through his hair as he thought of how to respond. 

“I guess...well, we’ve never discussed what... we are. To each other.”  He glanced sideways to gauge her expression. She had the most expressive face and he was learning to read what each twitch and furrow meant. The current look was “confused and mildly offended.”

“What we are to each other? What does that mean?”  Her voice was flat. 

“Like, are we monogamous? Allowed to date other people? In an open relationship? I don’t know where we stand in relation to...other relationships.  Jesus Mary and Joseph that sounds ridiculous!”  He shook his head. “What I mean is…”

A hand on his arm stopped him before he could really ramp himself up. “I know what you mean. Do you want to date other people?”

He shook his head vehemently. “Oh God no!  But I didn’t want to stop you from dating others.  If that’s what you want, of course.”  He tried not to look too panicked. 

They walked to the end of the block in silence and he fought to look calm and unruffled. 

He was on the cusp of a downward feelings spiral when she finally spoke. “No,” she said decisively. “I don’t want to date anyone else and I don’t want to share you. I’ve done without you for long enough, thank you very much.”  

He sagged in relief. “But you haven’t told anyone about us yet? Or just not Penelope?”

She stared straight ahead and said, “I haven’t told anyone about us. I didn’t tell anyone about last time and I didn’t want to say anything this time in case you changed your mind.”

She pulled ahead of him a bit, so he tugged her back and stopped walking so he could see her face and she could see his. 

“You still don’t trust me yet, so you?” he asked softly. 

She looked pained. “I want to. I want to so much. But you broke my fucking heart.” The anguish in her voice tore at him. “My head tells me it’s okay and that you chose me. You sought me out and you haven’t, not once in the last month, tried to run away or, or acted like I was some sort of devilish temptation.”

“Oh, you are definitely a temptation,” he leered as they started walking again. 

“You haven’t even told me what’s changed that you are picking me over God.”

James shook his head. “Not over or instead of. I’m picking you and God.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be secretive. I just didn’t think you’d be interested, I guess.  That you wouldn’t find the details important.” 

Emma looked annoyed by that. “Of course I want to know! Did the Catholic Church suddenly get very chill about priests having relationships or are you giving them the metaphorical finger or what?”

“No and no. I’m actually not Catholic anymore.”

“Why not?”

“The short version is that I realized my faith and my religion were too much at odds with each other and my faith was more important.”

“And now?”

“There are still some gaps between them, but, as a Methodist minister, they’re much more narrow.  And they allow me to serve God and love you.”

She processed his statement in silence as they turned on her street. He wondered what she was thinking. When they arrived at her door, she turned and took both of his hands in hers. “I can tell you about Penelope next time.”

He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, brushing his lips against hers with a murmured, “Okay.”  

She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his. He walked her a step or two back until she was wedged between his body and her door. She sighed and he slid his tongue between her lips, encouraging her to let him deepen their kiss. When she slid her hand down and grabbed his arse to pull him more tightly against her, he couldn’t help but moan and grind his hips against her. She slid her hands back up and under his shirt and the feeling of skin-on-skin was exquisite. When she wrapped one leg around him and rocked her hips,

grinding against his rock-hard cock he nearly came in his pants then and there. 

She pushed him gently away before he could slide a hand up her skirt and indulge himself in the feel of her.  She kissed him softly, and chastely, on the lips. 

“See you Friday?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Friday. Yes. Friday,” he nodded enthusiastically. 

“Okay. See you then.”

He heard her laugh when his head thumped against the closed door and he smiled as he pressed his hand to his heart. This was going to work.