P.C. Cast - Mysteria Nights

“Ooh, there he is now.” Maria hurried off to where a small crowd of women had gathered around Damon, watching as he fiddled with a repair to the door frame at the front entrance of the church. Why was he doing that now, of all things, right when services were about to start? He’d been busy with the fence all week, and she’d assumed he’d take Sunday off, which was his free time by rights.

Laughter rang out from the group of women surrounding Damon. He appeared to be charming the panties off them as he ushered them inside. As if he’d sensed she was watching, he turned and caught her gaze. Immediately, his expression changed into something warmer, more personal, telling her that he viewed her differently from the other women.

Differently, because he thinks you’re a nun, Harmony.

Harmony shifted her attention to Bubba, who sat adoringly at Damon’s feet, the cute little traitor. But who could blame the dog? Damon occupied Harmony’s thoughts day and night, too. Especially at night. She’d added an extra two miles to her daily jog, but it didn’t seem to be helping.

Jeanie lowered her voice and spoke in her ear. “If I can tear your attention away from the groundskeeper hunk for a second, I have the information you requested.”

Harmony’s heart skipped a beat as she whirled around. “Damon’s fingerprints.”

“Uh-huh. And I don’t have anything on him.”

“Great!” But Jeanie appeared more troubled than relieved. Harmony frowned. “Isn’t that good?”

“I mean I have nothing on him, Reverend. Nada. Zilch. We ran his prints and not a thing came up.”

“What are you saying—that he doesn’t exist?”

Jeanie spread her hands. “My research went beyond prints. I have friends in high places, and they helped. As far as the government goes, no. He’s never applied for a passport, or registered to vote. He’s never paid taxes, either, but then he’s never held a job that required even the simplest background check. It goes without saying that he’s never seen the inside of a prison—which was what you were worried about, right?”

Harmony thought back to the day it seemed that Damon had literally appeared out of nowhere in the garden. “What if he switched identities? What if he’s a fugitive trying to escape his past?”

“We’d have picked it up. Prints are prints. I had an expert check them out, too, a CIA buddy who owed me a favor. Your hunk’s fingerprints showed no evidence of being altered surgically or by any other method.” The sheriff shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say, but that he’s clean. Real clean. Count your blessings.”

“I will.” Harmony took a steadying breath. “Speaking of blessings, I’d better get this service started.”

She left the sheriff’s side in a happy daze. “He’s clean,” she whispered to herself. “Real clean.” Her intuition had been right—she wasn’t falling for the devil’s spawn, after all. Next time she had her doubts about anything, she’d listen to her instincts. Thank you, Great-grandmother Eudora!

Harmony breezed past Damon, hitched herself just high enough on her tiptoes as she passed by to whisper in his ear, “Dinner at six-thirty. Inside. Dress nice.”

It would be the first time since the day he’d arrived that she’d invited him to dine in the kitchen. Not knowing if he had a record or not had hardened her resolved to wait before taking the chance. Now, she knew.

The glimpse of his shock slipping quickly into pleasure lingered in her mind as she took the pulpit with true excitement coursing through her. She was finally beginning what she’d come to Mysteria to do. Her smile was contagious: a chain reaction reflected by the happy faces of the townswomen. But when her gaze settled on Damon, who stood in the doorway a few careful steps outside the church, she felt a bolt of pure energy. How could he not be heaven sent?

Harmony raised her hands and belted out a hallelujah. Her heart, filled to bursting in more ways than one, was in every single syllable.

At dusk Damon showed up at her front door with a thick bouquet of wildflowers. He’d showered and combed his hair. Although he had only work clothes to wear, he’d ironed them and she decided that no matter what he wore, everything or nothing at all, he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. And tonight he was all hers.

“Thank you,” she sang out, taking the flowers. “They’re beautiful.” The heat in his eyes was especially intense as he took in the sight of her in the red-hot form-fitting sheathe dress she’d bought on impulse in town after the service was over. Sometimes even a pastor had to break the rule of resting on Sundays. “You look very nice tonight, too, by the way.” She came up on her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. A nun’s kiss. She wanted more, she thought as she stepped back.

Behave, Harmony. Be professional.

Damon’s whiskey-gold gaze glinted, as if he sensed her inner battle. “You have the devil in your eyes tonight, Damon of Mysteria,” she said, imitating his accent.

He looked suddenly troubled. “Sorry, lass. I dinna mean to.”

“It’s just an expression! You can be so literal, at times.”

He flashed his famous smile, one tinged with relief. “Aye, and tonight you’ve got a bit of the devil in ye, too, I see.”

Because I’m hoping to find a little piece of heaven in your arms.

“Sit, make yourself at home,” she told him while she wedged the flowers into a water-filled glass vase and placed them on the kitchen counter because already the little eating table was half-filled with plates. On the stove in a cast-iron pan, four bone-in country ham slices, each a quarter-inch thick, sizzled in butter. While she finished cooking, she chattered from nervous excitement. The artificial barrier she’d erected between herself and Damon, one held in place by her lingering worries that he was a criminal, had crashed into so much dust. “So, how about that attendance at church today, huh? It’s a miracle! A real miracle.”

“Nay. Take credit where credit is due, Harmony. Word about your church has spread far and wide. ’Twas only a matter of time.”

“Hmm. I’d like to believe it. But where were all the men?”

Damon’s smile faltered. “Were there no males present?” he asked innocently.

“Except for you and Bubba, that crowd was a hundred percent female, and don’t pretend you didn’t notice. It doesn’t make sense. But I guess it’s not gracious to look the Lord’s gift horse in the mouth.”

Especially not with Daddy coming. A robust church community was a source of Faithfull pride. She couldn’t let her family down.

Oh, but they’d be impressed with Damon, though, she thought happily. He was such a gentleman, so much like her brothers. And when all-seeing Great-grandmother Eudora stepped through the front door, one look at Damon and she’d see him for what he truly was!

Oh, yes, things were looking up. Yes, indeed.

She tried to forget about the strange gender imbalance at church and instead focused on the pleasure of cooking and Damon’s company.

With a spatula, she flipped the ham steaks. “I’m fixing us ham and red-eye gravy. A Faithfull family favorite. Ever tried it?”

“Nay, lass. But I canna wait.” Damon closed his eyes and inhaled the aroma. Even from the stove, she could see the shudder that rumbled through him.

She couldn’t help laughing. “In all my life, I can’t say I’ve ever had more pleasure cooking for anyone.”

His smile was brilliant, as if he savored her compliments as much as he did his food.

She bustled about the stove, crashing pots and pans onto the burner as she hummed to the music playing on the stereo. Damon watched her with an affectionate, amused gaze that made her heart beat even faster. “My mama made me and my sisters help her with Sunday supper since we were little girls. We’d turn up the radio and listen to our favorite songs. Sometimes we’d dance more than we’d cook, and Mama would scold us.” Harmony gave her butt a defiant little shake. Her tight, red-sheathed butt.