Mariana pulls her hair into a knot at the top of her head, revealing her long neck. I don’t remember admiring a woman’s neck before, but hers is so delicate and graceful. I’ll bet that pretty skin is as velvety soft as a flower petal.
Fuck. Why am I sitting here gawking at my best friend’s youngest daughter in the middle of a family barbecue?
I never should have started courting her older sister. It felt wrong the moment Hector asked me to do it. Beautiful as Sofia is, I haven’t felt that special spark with her, and she’s too young for me.
Mariana is much, much too young for me.
My damn celibacy vow must be fucking with my head after three years of not touching a woman. I should have known waiting until marriage was taking it too far. It’s not like I believe sex outside of marriage is wrong. My goal was to eliminate distractions and narrow my focus on building my church, and I’d only have to wait until I found a wife, after all.
I assumed I’d have found her by now.
“Brandon,” Hector says, breaking me out of my reverie. He draws his brows together. “I need to talk to you about something.”
I frown, shifting in my chair. Does he sense the direction of my thoughts? I hope he didn’t catch me staring at Mariana after she just stripped down to her bikini.
“Do we need to go somewhere private?” I ask.
He shakes his head, his gaze drifting to Sofia. She’s standing in the middle of the pool, a small child in her arms. She’s always playing with one of her nieces or nephews at these family events. Dread clamps around my chest. She’s so good with children. It’s her dream to be a mother. She told me on one of our first dates.
It was a clear message.
“I wouldn’t be here right now if my intentions weren’t serious.”
“How are things going with the two of you?” Hector asks, his voice dropping to a whisper.
I take a sip of my Corona, giving myself a chance to think of a reply that won’t sound half-hearted. “I’m taking it slow. I still feel like she’s too young.”
He huffs out a laugh, patting my back. “You don’t think you’re a little too old to be single, brother?”
Brother. What he means is “brother in Christ,” but the word holds so much more warmth coming from him. Hector has been like an older brother ever since he brought me to God four years ago. Now that I’m leading what’s become one of the biggest churches in Santa Barbara, every Christian in my acquaintance seems to be in too much awe of me for real friendship. Aside from my younger brother, Hector is the only true confidant I have, which is why I did him this favor. I started “courting” his daughter, as he calls it, against my better judgment.
I set down my beer, leaning back in my chair. “I just don’t want to rush into anything. I know she’s serious about settling down and starting a family.”
Hector nods. “You’re damn right she is. She’ll be thirty in September.”
I exhale a deep breath. Ever since Sofia’s broken engagement three years ago, Hector’s been eager to see her married. In a world where women often get married in their early twenties, it must be hard for Sofia to be constantly reminded of her singlehood.
“That’s still eight years younger than me.”
He waves a hand. “Age differences don’t mean anything after thirty. I think it’s time for you to settle down too.” His lips quirk. “A forty-year-old single pastor. You’re like an exotic bird.”
I snort before taking a sip of my beer. “I’m thirty-eight, but thanks for aging me up. The church needs to adapt to the times. People shouldn’t get married if they don’t want to.”
Hector chuckles, shaking his head. “A liberal pastor. Even more exotic. But I agree with you to some extent. Marriage isn’t for everyone.”
“Exactly,” I say, relieved by his concession. Hector still attends the evangelical church where I met him, which is much more conservative than the one I lead now. He and I don’t always see eye to eye on issues, but at least he tries to be open-minded.
“Being a pastor’s wife isn’t for everyone either,” I say. “I have to be even more careful now than ever.”
“You don’t think Sofia would make a good pastor’s wife?”
“I certainly haven’t asked her.”
Hector’s gaze finds Sofia as she lifts her baby niece into the air and gently tosses her in the pool. “Look at her with little Ava,” he says. “She was born to be a mother. She was like that with Mari when she was a baby, even though she was a little girl herself.”
I let out a long sigh. There’s no convincing him when he gets into these moods. Like many Christian fathers, Hector seems to focus most of his parental anxiety on his daughters. He’s much more relaxed with his oldest son. He’s worried that Sofia’s biological clock is ticking, that she’s going to miss her dream of becoming a mother. No encouragement on my part—no deepening of my voice to sound like an authoritative pastor and telling him to trust in God’s timing—has made a difference.
He treats me without reverence, which is one of the things I love most about him.
My gaze is drawn to Mariana’s bikini-clad form as she makes her way from the pool. She’s gotten thinner since I last saw her, and she was already lean. Maybe the stress of finishing college has taken a toll on her?
I quickly avert my gaze as she heads toward us, hoping she didn’t notice me staring.
“Mari,” Hector scolds. “Get a towel. You’re half naked in front of your pastor.”
Mari steps into my view as she grabs a towel from one of the patio chairs. She shoots me a cheeky smile. “Am I causing you to stumble in your faith, Pastor?”
My gut clenches, and liquid heat pulses through my veins. I try to force a smile. Hector is now scolding her, but his words are muffled in my head, as if coming from far away.
How is it possible that I’m getting hard? She’s a full-grown woman, yes, but she’s Mariana. I met her when she was twenty years old. I’m old enough to be her damn father.
“I would never blame a woman’s body for the state of my faith.” I’m surprised how even my voice sounds.
Mariana’s eyes light up. She’s so expressive. Every little thought and emotion plays out in those dark, sparkling eyes. “See, Dad. This is why you need to start going to New Morning Church. Pastor Brandon isn’t sexist.”
Hector scowls at her. “I don’t like you implying that my pastor is sexist. And I’m not going to a church pastored by a man I’ve seen drunk as a skunk and stripped down to his boxers.” Hector pats me hard on the back, and I snort. He loves bringing up embarrassing stories from before I committed my life to God, back when he was trying to minister to me.
Mariana’s dark gaze meets mine before falling to my chest. “I’ll bet that was quite a sight.”
My whole body grows hot.
“Mari!” Hector scolds.
I take a breath to gather myself, hoping that my face doesn’t look as flushed as it feels. This is what Mariana does. I know this. She’s the baby of the family through and through. She often says mildly shocking things just to get a rise out of her dad.
Brazenly flirting with me is one of her favorite pastimes. It’s never fazed me. She always seemed like a rebellious teenager, even as a twenty-four-year-old woman.
Today, she actually feels like the woman she is.
I don’t like it.
Mariana pats my shoulder, and electricity shoots down my arm. “He knows I’m teasing.”
Of course she’s teasing.
So why is it suddenly getting to me? Why am I now imagining a seductive lilt to that husky voice of hers?
Hector’s wife, Ana, makes her way to the patio, a frown marring her face. She grabs Mariana’s arm and pulls her through the slider door to the kitchen. “No more sparkling wine for Mariana,” she says, and though her tone is light, I know she’s about to scold her youngest. They all still seem to see Mariana as much younger than she is, a consequence of her being the baby.
I thought I saw her that way, too.
When did that change?
Hector chuckles as he turns to me. “That’s our Mari. You can never predict what she’s going to say.” His voice grows hushed. “She’s going to be a powerhouse when she finally comes back to the Lord. She’s going to use that passion to do great things.”
I look away so that he can’t read my feelings on my face. I can’t give him words of encouragement because they would ring hollow. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s been praying for Mariana to come back to God.
The truth is that I don’t think all of us were meant to be Christians.
“What if you… I don’t know.” Hector scratches the back of his head. “Do you think you could talk to her?”
I don’t have to ask what he means. This isn’t the first time he’s asked me to give Mariana pastoral counseling.
“I’m not sure what more I can say. She comes to New Morning sometimes. She hears my messages.”
He shakes his head sharply. “She’s a Sunday morning Christian. She only goes to church for show. To please me and Ana.” His jaw tightens. “She’s not on fire for God.”
Because she’s an atheist. I want to tell him, but I can’t. Mariana swore me to secrecy when she told me several months ago. We were on a walk at an outdoor party—the sound of the ocean made it impossible for anyone to overhear us—and yet she lowered her voice when she said “atheist,” like it was a dirty word.
To people in our world, it is, and it made my heart ache that she trusted me enough to tell me. I promised myself I would never betray that trust.
“I’ll let her know she can talk to me about her struggles, but I’m not going to push her.”
He smirks, his gaze drifting back to Sofia. “Because you might be her brother-in-law someday. You want to make a good impression.”
I grit my teeth, shooting him what I hope is a playful eye roll. He smiles back, and I resist the urge to let out a groan.
My pulse is only beginning to slow to a steady beat, and it’s not because of the woman I’m courting.
