WHAT A SIGHT WE ARE. An ex-priest standing at the front of the church while his very pregnant fiancé waddles her way down the aisle in all white. My dad couldn’t make the trip on such late notice, but I wasn’t going to let him give me away anyway. I want to walk myself down the aisle. Just me and this baby who could make his appearance any day now.
Sunny and Alexander and my mother all made it. And all things considered, Callum’s congregation has been surprisingly supportive. Turns out they weren’t much surprised when they heard the news. When I flew back to Ireland with him on New Year’s Day, I expected an angry mob to meet me at the airport, cursing my name for driving their precious priest away.
But I should have known better. Every single person in town, with the exception of some jealous housewives, welcomed me back with open arms. They were too distracted by the news of a wedding and a baby and a promise from Callum that he would still attend every Bible study and charity breakfast.
The walk down the aisle is a lot longer than I expected, but with the way Callum looks in this dusty, stained-glass sunshine, I could stand here forever. It still seems crazy to me that the person who truly sees me better than anyone was a priest. If you had told me this a year ago, I would have thought you were crazy, but it turns out that being a wild woman in search of validation and love in all the wrong places has a lot of parallels to being a holy man. Callum looked to God for love and validation, but for so many years of his life he missed the opportunity to connect with another person. We were both so lost.
But we’re not anymore.
He’s wearing that serious expression as I reach the altar, regardless of the fact that my face is desperately trying to split in two from my smile. He reaches out to take my hands just as Father Markus, the priest Callum convinced to take his place in Ennis starts speaking. The service drags on, and I don’t hear a word. I’m lost in his eyes, trying to remember the first time I realized I loved him. I wish I could go back to that moment and tell myself then how this would end, just to see my expression.
When Father Markus finally pronounces us married, I don’t feel any different. Maybe because the things we’ve done in this church, like the first time we did it on the floor of this very aisle, made us more bonded in the eyes of God than this wedding. That moment was a holy union, and it was even presided over by a priest.
After the wedding, we head to Yeager’s for the reception. Everyone except for me and my mom proceed to get sloppy-faced drunk, even my new husband who won’t take his hands off me for one second all night.
“Well, this is appropriate,” I tease him. “On the day we met, you carried me home when I was drunk.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t take advantage of you like the way you’re about to take advantage of me.” I love the drunken drawl to his accent, the accent that still makes my toes curl. I lean in and plant my lips on his, and I take a deep inhale, absorbing that scent of his.
“That is true.”
Under the table, I feel his hand work its way up my dress until it reaches the wedding night surprise I have for him. When he finds that there are no underwear there, he lets out a groan and tries to take a bite out of my shoulder. I’m glad my big ass stomach doesn’t weird him out because I’ve never been hornier in my life. And that’s saying something.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper, turning to say goodbye to everyone in the pub. A dull, throbbing pain in my back and hips slow me down as I try to stand. These pub seats were not made for pregnant women. I barely make it two steps before I realize that walking only makes it worse. Trying not to alarm anyone, I make polite small talk with a couple at the bar before trying to walk again.
Callum, even though he’s drunker than a skunk, picks up on my weird behavior and the way I’m holding my back at a weird angle. In a heartbeat, he puts on a sober face and comes to my side.
“Please tell me your back is just sore.”
“Umm…my back is really, really sore. I think this is it.”
“Oh Jesus,” he replies as his eyes widen. “But we’re all drunk!”
“I’m not,” my mother says from her seat at the table next to us. She stands up and places her hand on my stomach. “Oh yeah, that’s a contraction.”
It’s like everyone in the pub hears her and the room goes silent. Turning toward Callum with his serious expression and stern jaw, I let out a laugh. He’s never looked more terrified, so I reach up and put my hands on his cheeks. “Can I get a raincheck on the honeymoon suite?”
As he pulls me in for a kiss, everyone in the pub lets out a howl of applause.
We probably should have had more than half a reception before we started having babies, but if I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that I don’t question God’s plan. Sometimes we have to take the long road to get to where we’re meant to be—a very long, very bumpy road.
Bonus Epilogue
Callum
Three years later…
“We have to hurry before he comes back,” I whisper as I trail kisses down my wife’s body, over her swollen breasts and across her soft belly which has carried not one, but two of my boys. She has on the blue dress I love with the deep neckline and white flowers, the one she keeps for this occasion alone, when Father Markus goes to the pub and leaves the church unattended for a couple hours.
With her hidden in the confessional, I sit on my knees in front of her, lifting her dress and watching her squirm with anticipation. I don’t stop until I find the place where I know I would spend my day if I could. She lets out that familiar purr as my tongue parts her lips and plunges deep. I know that shit drives her crazy, as if the death grip she has on my hair could let me forget.
Just as I zero in on her clit with the right amount of suction, I slide in two digits and smile at the way she nearly levitates off the seat. How I went twelve years of my life without doing this, I don’t know.
When I look back on my years as a priest now, it feels like that time of my life was my time in waiting. I don’t regret it. I mean how could I? If I hadn’t spent that time devoted to God and the service of others, I would have never been the kind of man Cadence deserves. I’m glad she didn’t know me in my twenties. I wasn’t right for her then, and it doesn’t matter now that I’m pushing fifty and my life feels like it’s just starting. I’ve never felt younger. I mean…look at how I get to spend my Saturdays.
“Callum,” she gasps. She says my name every time I get my lips on her pussy. It’s a tradition and her gift to me. With a little more pressure, I anticipate the moment her body seizes and she explodes with pleasure.
She doesn’t waste any time and barely gives herself a chance to recover before she’s reaching for me. And who am I to deny her what she wants?
I pull her out of the confessional and carry her to the office that used to be mine. She attacks my lips with her mouth, tasting herself there, and I can’t move fast enough to get the damn pants undone as I place her on the soft chaise lounge. She helps me with the belt and as soon as my cock is free, she climbs onto my lap, straddling my hips and rides me like a horse.
It doesn’t matter that we’re the only people in the building or that I’m not a priest anymore. We still muffle our cries and pretend this is our dirty little secret.
Cadence loves to share our story, especially to the guests. Since Bridget got remarried and moved out with Daisy, Cadence made the B&B her own. Every single change she’s put in place has only helped the business flourish. We’ve added riding lessons with Misty and brought on an actual staff. Even with two small kids, she never looks overwhelmed. In fact, she looks perfectly satisfied with the chaos of our lives.
Of course, finding alone time with kids and a business isn’t easy, so when Father Markus asks us to volunteer at the church, we never pass it up. Because it means moments like this, her riding my cock in my old office while that bronze statuette of the Virgin Mary watches with disapproval.
When I feel her body tremble and shake, I take control and flip her onto her back. Taking her hands above her head, I growl in her ear.
“You’ve been a bad girl.”
She squirms, biting back her smile. “Forgive me, Father,” she moans in reply.
I don’t know how I ever got so lucky, finding this beautiful girl. God was no match for Cadence, and if loving her was ever a sin, then I would gladly burn.
Slamming into her again, I come hard. She latches onto my body with her legs, squeezing me in place so I can’t pull out.
“We have to lay here for a second. I don’t want it to all come out.”
“You’re crazy, you know. Gabriel is only three and Noah’s barely a year. Are you sure you’re ready for another?”
She responds with a smile, her cheeks red and her lips swollen. It’s a far cry from the girl who landed on my doorstep almost five years ago, lost and alone. She’s anything but now. I know God meant for her to fall into my arms that day. I know He brought us together with intention, and maybe our method was a little unorthodox, and some might call it a scandal, but I still hold onto my faith in providence. Our love is not a sin; it’s salvation.
