Untouchable (Untouchables, 1)

As if on cue, Carter’s Mustang pulls into the mostly empty church parking lot. Since James and I are the only ones still standing out here, he drives right up and stops in front of us. Carter’s dark gaze rakes over James appraisingly, then slides over to me.

“Hop in, babe.”

Heat creeps up my neck and stains my cheeks. He had to call me babe, didn’t he? Why does he live to torment me? I shoot him a look of warning, then look back over at Pastor James. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Yes, I’ll see you then,” he replies, his voice faintly resigned.

I open the passenger door and slide in. I no more than get it shut and I feel Carter’s hand move to the nape of my neck. He grabs me and pulls me in for an aggressive kiss, just in case the “babe” didn’t get his point across.

When he finishes kissing me and nips my bottom lip, I want to sink into the seat and disappear. Carter looks out my window, shooting my pastor a little smile. I can’t even look at Pastor James, still standing there, but thankfully Carter doesn’t feel like lingering either. He puts the car back in drive and peels out of the church parking lot like a raging asshole.

Great. That’s just wonderful.

“Was that necessary?” I ask him.

“I think it was,” he remarks. Barely missing a beat, he continues, “Who was that guy? Why are you seeing him Wednesday?”

“Oh, the guy you just mauled me in front of? That’s my youth pastor,” I state, glaring at him. “I’ll see him Wednesday at youth group, and now he’s going to have a mental image of you kissing my face off and then driving away like a Neanderthal, so thanks very much for that.”

“Neanderthals didn’t drive; get your facts straight. And that guy did not look old enough to be a pastor.”

“He’s 23.”

“Like I said,” Carter replies.

“If you were tryin’ to make my life less pleasant, congratulations, you’ve done that. The cashier you ‘babed’ me in front of yesterday? His younger brother. Now their whole family is going to be prayin’ for my soul.”

Carter grins, like this brings him pleasure instead of embarrassment. “Happy to help, princess.”

“Terrible,” I inform him, shaking my head in disapproval. “I think Pastor James has some kind of savior boner for fallen women, so now he’s probably gonna be all over my ass at youth group for the next couple of weeks. I can usually keep to myself and just help out the minimum amount.” Sighing dramatically, I let my head fall back against the seat. “Men are the worst. I hate all of you.”

“That guy seemed like the worst,” Carter says with a nod. “You shouldn’t hang out with him. His boring might rub off on you.”

“I will hang out with whomever I want to hang out with, thank you very much,” I inform him.

He shrugs. “We’ll see. I don’t like the way he looked at you.”

“That’s absurd.”

“I know what I saw,” Carter replies.

“James is a pastor. A married pastor. You can relax, he doesn’t want to pin me to his couch and have his way with me, he wants to save me from bad influences who might want to do those sorts of things.”

“Either way, he doesn’t sound like someone who should be watching your ass when you get into my car. And that look on his face when I kissed you? It wasn’t judgment, it was envy.”

“Stop,” I say, covering my ears. “Stop trying to pervert everything in my life. I need some things to stay pure, dammit.”

“People aren’t pure, princess,” he tells me, shaking his head as he hits his turn signal. “When are you ever gonna accept that?”

Chapter 18

Carter picks at the basket of fries between us on the table, listening as I explain about the themed baskets we’re going to make and auction off at the church cook-out next weekend. It’s all part of the fundraiser—we’ll make the food and the baskets, people will buy the food and raffle tickets for the baskets, and all the money raised will go to help the woman and her baby get the bare necessities and a new place to live.

Carter leans back in his chair, shaking his head. “Look at you, shining up that halo. You must be fixing to blind somebody with it.”

I flash him a smile, stealing a fry. “No, but I might be tryin’ to keep up with all the tarnish you’re inflicting on it.”

“I’ve tarnished your halo?” he asks with ludicrous innocence. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“I was sittin’ in church today thinking about what you did to me on your couch last night. These are not distractions I’ve ever had before.”

“Eh, part of growing up,” he says dismissively. “You and your little group of Bible-thumpers are just a little behind in the process, that’s all.”