I chuckle, appreciating the sound of her laugh, thinking how much I’m enjoying her company. She sounds so carefree and happy, and it’s infectious. “What if I’d said yes?”
“Well, we’ll never know now, will we?” She laughs, then flips onto her stomach and reaches for her phone from the table we pushed to the side to make more space for our yoga session. She murmurs something about texting Ivan back as her fingers fly over the keyboard. She tosses the phone on her mat, then flops onto her back again.
“Sol and I kissed in church today,” I blurt out.
There’s a long moment of silence. “You did what?”
The memory of Sol’s heated eyes, wicked mouth, and naughty hands sends heat pooling in my belly. I rub my thighs together and smother a sigh. I’m so lost in that flashback my eyes shut and I imagine him on top of me, shirt and pants off, his hard length grinding between—
“Grace!” My eyes fly open, and I find MJ watching me curiously. “You can’t just tell me you two kissed in church and then leave me hanging like that.”
I press my hands on my heated cheeks. “We kissed.” I take a deep breath. “In the confessional box.”
Her mouth gapes, her eyes wide.
“I know. It was super-hot. I’ve never seen him like that. Is it wrong I loved it? I mean, we were in church. Who makes out in church?”
Her mouth closes, and she clears her throat. “Okay, back up a bit. Are we talking about the same guy here? Church boy? Our perfect, innocent man-child? Solomon Callan?”
I nod, remembering the way he pulled down my panties with the playful glint in his eyes. A shiver runs down my spine. “Believe me, he’s far from innocent.”
“Wow. That’s so scandalous.” She laughs, clapping her hands, but suddenly stops, her eyes going wide. “If Luke finds out . . .”
“Sol left as soon as his uncle entered the other booth.”
She grins wide. “So you two finally admitted your feelings for each other? This calls for a celebration. Brandy or tequila? Or weed? I have a small stash Ivan left here a few days ago.”
I laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”
Just then her phone starts to ring. She grabs it from the table and swipes a finger on the screen to answer. Her whole expression turns soft, and I know she’s talking to her boyfriend. I stand and head to the kitchen for a glass of water.
She ends the call a few minutes later and jumps to her feet. “Forget the tequila. We’re going out.”
“Oh. Where?” I ask, setting the still-full glass on the counter.
“Fisher’s Gold.” I blink at her, not comprehending. “It’s a coffee shop downtown. They have karaoke night every Thursday.”
“I can’t sing to save my life.”
“That’s the whole point of karaoke. It’s supposed to be fun.” She takes my hand, grabs two glasses and a bottle of brandy. Then we head down the hallway to her room. “I need to change, then we can do our makeup.”
“Is this what you meant by your version of fun?”
“Yep. Plus, it will take your mind off what that woman said.”
“So you and Ivan are pretty serious?” I ask while she’s changing into a slinky black dress.
I glance down at what I am wearing: denim skirt, my mom’s short-sleeved, white chiffon blouse—I haven’t done laundry this week—and white Chucks. And decide I don’t look too shabby for a karaoke night at a coffee shop.
MJ shrugs. “I think so, yeah.” She hands me one of the glasses, then plops down on her mat. “His mom doesn’t approve, though. She wants him to find himself a Korean girl.”
I frown. “Why?”
“To stick to his roots, I guess. I don’t know.” She tips her glass and gulps down the brandy.
“But that doesn’t seem fair, considering his mother didn’t stick to her roots.”
MJ sighs, her face falling. “It’s exhausting sometimes.”
“Everything will work out. I just know it. I mean, how can someone not love you?”
“Aw, I love you too, babe.” She smacks a kiss on my cheek. After deciding we’re taking my car, we head to the spot where my Fiat is parked.
“By the way,” she announces. “Levi’s meeting us there. I’m just letting you know so you can prepare yourself, since, you know, you kicked him in the family jewels the other night.”
After parting ways with Grace at St. Peter’s, I drove back to the auto shop to start working on Beth’s car. I ordered the parts I needed to fix it, and they were being delivered this afternoon. Grace’s worried face flashes in my mind. She still seemed anxious about that woman’s palm reading. I hope she doesn’t let it get to her. I make a note to text her later to check on her.
Seth is driving his bike up and down the deserted road. As soon as he sees me, a big grin replaces the ever-present solemn look on his face. I’d completely forgotten I promised him he could watch while I did the brake work on his mom’s car.
“Hey, Seth. Have you been waiting long?”
“I just got here.”
“Great. Come on, let’s get started.”
My boss, Joe Soltz, is lounging in a wicker chair that has seen better days, sipping beer from a bottle. His favorite auto magazine sits on his lap, his thumb ready to turn to the next page. He lifts the hand holding the beer in our general direction in greeting, before glancing back down. He doesn’t bat an eye when his gaze cuts to Seth. He’s already used to Seth’s impromptu visits. Plus, Joe knows I’m careful when Seth is around.
Joe is a sixty-year-old, quiet guy, no drama. Happily married to the same woman for thirty years. He has five children. He first took me in when I was fifteen with an itch to learn to repair cars. Next to playing soccer at Winston High, this was my favorite thing to do. I enjoyed fixing things just as much as I loved being part of the Mass.
Seth trails behind me as we enter the shop, dragging his feet, head bowed like he’s afraid of looking people in the eye. It’s one of his tells whenever he has something on his mind.
“What’s going on?” I ask,
“Mom spoke to Father Foster about me, you know, getting baptized. I was kind of wondering if you’d like to be my godfather.”
“Yeah? That’s awesome, man.”
He flashes me a bright smile. “Is that a yes?”
I nod. To be honest, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Seth. He’s grown on me over the years.
“Awesome.” He brings his fist up and waits until I bump it with mine.
“All right. Let’s get to work so your mom can have the car back to cart your lazy ass around.”
He guffaws and yells, “I’m not lazy!”
Before long, Seth and I are wearing coveralls—well, Seth’s borrowed coveralls are wearing him instead—and are neck deep in motor oil while “Hotel California” by the Eagles blasts across the garage.
A few hours later, we clean up and head out. I’ll do final touches tomorrow, then do a test drive before Beth comes to collect it. I load Seth’s bike into the back of my truck and usher him in the passenger seat. My phone vibrates inside my pocket, and I pull it out, swiping the screen to read the message.