I nodded. “Tomorrow is Sunday. You should take a break. I don’t have my agents do anything on that day.”
“I haven’t seen my mother yet. I promised her I would go to church with her.” And then she gave me a wicked grin. “You know what? You should come too.”
“Oh.” I widened my eyes. “No. . .I don’t think—”
“You should definitely come. For one thing, our Unsub could be in the church. Unfortunately. Two, the whole place has witnesses so you may learn something. Third, if everyone sees you there, they’ll warm to you from now on.”
I let out a long breath. “So, you’re saying that if I go, perhaps Pastor Miller will stop referring to be as that whiteboy?”
“There’s a strong chance of that happening.”
I groaned. “I’m still not sure if I should—”
“We have dinner at Pastor Miller’s house afterwards; I’ll let my mother know now.” She pulled out her phone and opened the door.
“Oh. Wait.” I hurried to catch her, getting my keys out of the car and climbing out. “Haven!”
She was already on the phone, twisting her hips back and forth. I meant to yell out her name one more time, but that bottom grabbed my attention. Instead of stopping her, I let myself fall captivated to the swish of those hips and the jiggle of that plump ass.
It looks like I’m going to church.
I wondered if God would be mad that I was coming to his house due to a sexy woman.
Maybe, Haven will take me through the secret passageway when she gets bored and we can smoke a cigarette and look at dirty magazines.
Doubting I would be so lucky, I shut the car door and headed to the Inn.
Church with Haven’s mother?
On one side, it would be good to explore this part of her life. I had already decided last night that I wanted to know more about Haven, and I. . .yearned to do more with her. Not many ideas came to my head besides getting her naked and spending quality time. But anything could grow out of simple moments and I yearned to truly learn what made Haven tick. Meeting her mother could be an awesome idea.
This could be good. I’ll be able to investigate the case more, as well as learn about Haven.
Chapter 19
Sunday in the South
Haven
Alexander wore a suit to work. Therefore, I thought I had already seen him in one. But when he walked me out of Saint Mary’s Inn this Sunday morning, I realized I was wrong.
I did my best not to drool as I checked him out. I even moved at a slightly slower pace to get a nice view of that muscled behind.
God is good. He knew what I needed this morning. Thank you, Jesus.
It looked like the suit had paid Alexander to be on his body. Classic, yet all designer. Indigo blue in pure premium wool. Clearly custom made. Thoughtful construction. Not tight, but superiorly forming around his muscled body and revealing more as if he was naked. I could see every firm layer, every delicious bulge, every shift and flex of muscle on his thighs, back, and arms.
He’s going to give half the woman in church dirty thoughts and messy panties. Pastor Miller won’t have any idea what will be going on in the minds of his members today.
Alexander strolled over to the passenger side and opened the door.
I grinned.
He shrugged. “We’re not working, so now I can be a gentleman.”
“Thank you.” I wanted to say more, but that vision of sexiness and his sweet behavior had taken most of my words away.
I need to go to my own room this week. Things are going to get out of hand.
Sleeping in the room with him was a difficult task. Of course, the whole time he was thoughtful and gave me space. But last night, he went commando as he wore gray sweatpants to bed. Again, those pants did nothing to hide the size of his length. As he walked around his cock swung back and forth like a long, thick pendulum. Many times, I very much yearned to yank those damn sweats down.
As if things couldn’t get even dirtier, he always took his shirt off before sleeping on the couch. In those moments, I lay in the moonlit darkness, spying like a pervert and enjoying the way the light bathed his chiseled body.
The man was gorgeous and sexy. The more I stayed in his room, the more I would want to touch and taste him.
“Is everything okay.” Alexander took me out of my thoughts. He remained by my door, waiting for me to get into the car.
I cleared my throat. “Oh yes. Everything is fine.”
Things are just as fine as you are.
I blushed and climbed into the car.
Oh God. Stop objectifying the poor man.
He closed the door. As if he knew what he was doing to me, he walked in front of the car instead of behind, giving me a great view of that heavenly behind in the designer suit.
Yes, Lord. You are the creator! You sure know how to make a man.
I bet Jesus was up in the sky shaking his head at me this morning.
It’s your fault, God. It really is. I didn’t do that.
He climbed in and filled the car with his lovely cologne.
I smiled at him. “Are you ready for church?”
His cheery expression shifted to nervousness. “I think so.”
“What? Why do you think so?”
“This is not just a church. I’m going into an environment full of people who believe I’m the reason why the Fullbrooke Six haven’t been saved.”
“They more blame the cops.”
“They don’t think I care.”
“They will when they see you at church.”
He started the car. “Pastor Miller isn’t a fan.”
“But, he did invite you.”
“He did.” Alexander drove us off.
“You still look nervous.”
He shrugged. “There’s other things at play.”
“What?”
“Your mother.”
Shocked, I widened my eyes. “My mother? She’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not going to be trying to make a good first impression.”
I giggled. “You don’t have to make a good impression with her. She’s going to like you.”
“I hope so.” He drove us out of the parking lot. “And I do have to make a good impression.”
“Do you?”
“I’m hoping to. . .”
I stared at him. “What?”
“I’m hoping to be around for a while.” He adjusted his tie. “In your life. Which means her life. It wouldn’t be a good idea to get off on the wrong track.”
My heart warmed. I wasn’t prepared for that admission. While I’d been full of lust every moment, I was around him and ready to jump his bones since staying in his room, I hadn’t caught the same energy from him.
He’s feeling the same way I do?
I turned my attention back to the front window. “So. . .you want to be in my life?”
“At least discuss that possibility, after the case. . .of course.” He lifted one of his hands an inch from the steering wheel as if he was going to make a point, and then he put the hand back on the wheel. “We’re practically. . .”
My voice came out shaky. “We’re practically what?”
“Roommates.”