The morning sun casts long shadows across the empty church parking lot. When I step out of my car, the cool morning air makes me shiver. My gaze falls on Brandon. He’s waiting for me by his Audi, and my heart flutters at the sight.
Such a daddy.
He stands tall and imposing, his deep-brown eyes narrowing as he takes in my appearance. His jaw is tight, and his gaze lingers on the contours of my body revealed by the form-fitting tank top. A wave of delightful defiance washes over me.
I didn’t dress sexy on purpose. I can’t help it if he likes what he sees.
“Well, you’re dressed comfortably,” he says, his voice low and tight.
A teasing smirk tugs at my lips. He’s not even trying to hide the fact that his eyes are on my tits right now. His stern gaze makes my heart race, but I refuse to let him see how much it turns me on.
If he wants polite distance, I’ll give it to him.
“It’s a four-hour drive,” I say. “Would you prefer I dress uncomfortably?”
His expression shutters. “No…but I’m going to be introducing you to a group of pastors. I’d prefer you be dressed professionally so they don’t think—” His lips close.
My smile grows. “Don’t think what?”
He lets out a long sigh. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be commenting on the way you’re dressed.” He flinches. “It’s sexist.”
“It’s okay. I should have worn a bra.”
His teeth clench, and I have to fight the smile rising to my lips as I hand him a stainless-steel mug filled with hot coffee. “Black and strong as gasoline. Just the way you like it. I’ve also loaded up some history podcasts for the drive.”
His brows lift at that. “What kind of history?”
Lightness fills my chest. My friends and family groan whenever I suggest listening to history podcasts on a road trip, but Brandon loves history as much as I do.
Ugh. I’m actually excited to spend the next four hours alone in a car with him, and it fucking sucks.
I’ll never have him all to myself again after this trip.
“You’re going to lose your mind over one of the podcasts I found,” I say. “It’s all about the badass women in the Bible. We’ve got Esther, Mary Magdalene, Bathsheba… My role models growing up. Bunch of strong-willed hoes, just like me.”
He chuckles. “The strong-willed hoes of the Bible,” he says under his breath. “You’re so cute, Mariana.”
I inhale a sharp breath, and he winces. “I’m sorry.
“It’s okay,” I say, my heart pounding.
“I’m still on edge about this weekend.”
“Me too,” I say, but it’s a lie. I’ve been looking forward to it ever since he agreed to let me come.
Maybe we’ll finally have a breakthrough. Maybe he’ll finally let go of his obsession with my age and what my dad thinks of him.
A fool’s hope, most likely.
The thought is confirmed a while later when we’re driving to Big Sur. The tension in the car is thick. Brandon’s hardly said a word, and he’s shot down any conversation I’ve tried to initiate. His walls are up.
Fuck this.
I reach for my phone and plug it into the aux cord. “Do you mind if I play that podcast?”
“That sounds great.” It’s the most enthusiastic he’s sounded since we started driving.
The spirit of rebellion—as my mom always calls it—rises within me. Without giving myself a chance to reflect, I press the podcast episode about David and Bathsheba.
A kinky Bible story.
My cheeks warm as the melodious voice of the podcast host fills the car. I shouldn’t be so immature, but damn him. Why does he have to be so rigid in his thinking?
I smile at him from under my lashes, even though I know he can’t see me. “This story made me…feel things. Growing up, I mean.”
The atmosphere in the car grows suddenly stifling. I chance a glance at Brandon, my breath hitching as I take in his stiff posture, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. His face is flushed.
“Oh yeah?” Brandon finally asks, his voice tight. His gaze remains glued to the road ahead. He knows exactly where I’m going with this, but he’s giving me the benefit of the doubt.
“I mean…” I pick at the loose thread on my yoga pants. “It’s one of the sexier Bible stories, and my parents sheltered me so much, it was my only opportunity to hear something like that.”
His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I think it’s pretty sad. David essentially raped her. And then he had her husband killed.”
I bite my bottom lip and scrape it with my teeth. “Well, of course. If I think of the fact that they were real people—I mean, historians are pretty sure they were real but probably not the details. To me, it was just a story. And it was a hot story. David was the king, and he saw her naked once and had to have her. He wanted her so badly, he eliminated all barriers between them.”
My skin grows hot and tingly. I shouldn’t be talking this way with him, but it’s so hard to resist.
It’s fun to be able to have a conversation like this with him, given how reasonable he is about his faith and his deep knowledge of the Bible. I could never say something like this to any of my family members.
“I used to think about this story when I took baths,” I say. “I’d imagine a man watching me and wanting me.”
“Mari,” he says, his voice full of warning.
“I’m sorry.”
Frantically, I fumble with my phone, hitting the pause button. The car plunges into silence.
“I wasn’t trying to turn you on. I really mean it.”
He’s quiet for a while, and my guilt makes my skin tingly and itchy.
“I honestly just…” I shut my eyes. “I want to be able to talk to you about this stuff. I feel like we could have before…”
His hand leaves the wheel for a moment, hovering over mine before returning to its place. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I want to be able to talk to you about the Bible. Answer all your questions. But this topic in particular…”
“I know.”
“We can talk plenty this weekend, but let’s keep the topic off sex.” He smiles faintly. “Even if it’s sex in the Bible.”
I grin. “Such a kinky book.”
“Watch it, young—” His lips close.
Goddamn it, Brandon. Just say it. Call me young lady. Call me your naughty girl.
The rest of the drive is rife with tension, and all I can think is what a long weekend it’s going to be if he stays this bottled up.
