Sinners at the Altar (Sinners on Tour 6)

Eric rolled his eyes and slapped Jace in the back of the head, as if hearing Jace spout sentimental drivel didn’t make him one happy bastard.

“Did you bring a blindfold like I asked?” Eric asked.

Jace pulled one out of his back pocket. “I always carry a spare.”

Eric chuckled and took the black leather from Jace’s hand. “Of course you do.”

“Why do you need a blindfold?” Rebekah asked.

“I don’t,” he said, and slipped it over her head. “You do.”

“Eric?”

He covered her anxious eyes with the blindfold and was shocked by the surge of lust that flooded his groin at seeing her blindfolded in leather while wearing her very proper wedding gown.

“Damn, baby. We’re going to have to use that thing again later tonight.”

“Just don’t get your love goo all over it,” Jace said. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“No promises,” Eric said as he took Rebekah’s hand to lead her to the car. “Goo sometimes winds up in the most unusual places.”

“Such as lucky hats?” Jace chuckled.

“Exactly.”

Rebekah’s fingers trembled against his palm, but she put her trust in him and allowed him to direct her into the passenger seat. He wasn’t used to people depending on him or trusting him explicitly. It was a huge responsibility that he was ready to take on.

When his woman was safely tucked inside the Corvette once more, Eric got in, started the car, and headed in the direction of his surprise venue. The aluminum cans clanked against the pavement behind them and several nearby drivers honked their horns in congratulations. All of which made him very happy. On this particularly loud and obnoxious drive, he didn’t have the urge to flip off any of the honkers.

As he drove around several blocks looking for the place they would say I do, Eric hoped that Rebekah wouldn’t be mad that he hadn’t consulted her on the location he’d chosen. What if she hated this idea? What if it made her change her mind about loving him? Or worse, made her realize she’d never loved him, not even for a second?

He glanced at her sitting so trustingly beside him and decided her coming to her senses would be the worst thing that had ever happened to him. And Eric had lived through some pretty fucked up shit in his youth.

Chapter Four

Rebekah had no idea where Eric was taking her, but she’d learned in the months that they’d been together that he was far more thoughtful than he looked and far more romantic than he acted. When he surprised a girl, it was a very good thing. She stroked the warm metal of her engagement ring, remembering the last time he’d surprised her. There was no way he could top that. Or could he?

“Are you going to give me a hint about where we’re going?” she asked, shifting her blindfold to a more comfortable position, but not removing it. She was determined to be a good sport about his plans, even if they did turn into a fiasco. So far he was doing well, but she never knew what to expect out of Eric. Usually that was a good thing. But sometimes…

“Nope. No hints.”

She could hear the smile in his tone even over the road noise and the clunking of the cans trailing the car.

“Can I try to guess?” she asked.

“You can try, but I’m not going to tell you if you guess correctly.”

The car bumped over a curve, jostling Rebekah into clinging to the dashboard. She had a hard time with Eric’s driving when she could see where they were going; it was a true test of her trust to ride in his passenger seat wearing a blindfold.

“Are we going to the tattoo parlor?” she asked. They did plan to have their vows permanently etched on their skin. They’d discussed it several times. She’d already written her vows and had them memorized. She wasn’t sure if Eric had given his much thought yet.

He chuckled. “You’re way off, sweetheart.”

“But you said you wanted to have your vows tattooed into your sleeve, and I definitely want mine made into a beautiful work of art. Did you change your mind?” She stroked her bare upper arm, imagining a colorful and intricate design with flowers and butterflies and musical notes and words that expressed her love for Eric.

“No, I still want to do that with you—for sure, can’t wait—but we can have the work done when we have more time. A big piece like that will take hours, and everyone is waiting for us now.”

“Where?” she asked.

“At your—” He broke off with a laugh. “You almost got me to say it.”

“At my…” she said, pondering places that belonged to her and coming up lacking. “At my… At my what?”

Not her parents’ house surely.

He didn’t answer and met the rest of her questions and guesses with silence. Eventually the car pulled to a stop and she could hear voices speaking in a crowd, but they were too far away to make out any threads of conversation or identify who the voices belonged to. The blindfold suddenly dropped from her eyes to cover her nose as Eric tugged it down. She blinked in the glaringly bright light of the early evening sun and willed her eyes to adjust. Was that a circus tent? she thought as her aching eyes glimpsed something huge and white with two vertical stripes in some bright color. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

“Are we getting married on a trapeze?” she asked.

Eric laughed. “No, are you blind? We’re at your father’s church.”

Her jaw dropped. She lifted a trembling hand to her lips, her eyes swimming with tears. She opened her properly adjusted eyes and there it was—just like Eric had said. Rebekah had so many happy memories of the little chapel with its tall stained-glass windows and white façade. Even though she’d been on the road and unable to attend church for months, she still recalled the worn but gleaming pews. The tall pulpit. The joyous choir. And her warm and welcoming father spreading the word of love to any who would listen. She didn’t have to go inside to feel her connection to this place. It was ingrained deep in her heart.

“I probably should have asked, but I thought you might like your father to marry us. Since he’s in the business.”

“Did my mother put you up to this?” she asked, knowing the woman could be a bit overbearing and that Eric was not a religious person. She couldn’t imagine him wanting to get married in a church, and she loved him enough to be okay with that. God would understand. He knew love, and he would never stand in its way. He didn’t care about gender or race or age or anything but the spread of his love. Rebekah had always believed that. Her father had been preaching it her entire life.

“Okay,” Eric said with a heavy sigh, “this was obviously a poor decision on my part. I’ll just turn this car around and make a speedy getaway.”

She covered his hand with hers before he could put the gears in reverse. “I would love my father to marry us in the church he adores, but I don’t want you to feel forced into doing something you aren’t comfortable with just because my mother happens to think she’s queen of the fucking universe.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. The woman had always been a bit too righteous. Even for a minister’s wife.

Eric grinned. “She never suggested it. Like the dress, it was my idea. I called your parents’ house and when your father answered, I asked him if he’d be willing to marry us instead of giving you away. I think he was crying by the time I hung up, so if I feel any pressure at all, it’s because I don’t have it in me to break that man’s heart. But if you don’t want to get married here, I’ll drive away now and let you tell your daddy later.”

She grabbed both of Eric’s hands and clutched them to her chest over her pounding heart. “But I do want to get married here. I do. I do.”

“Hey, save all that I do stuff for the ceremony,” he teased.

She flung herself into his arms and kissed him, the gearshift digging into her thigh—not that she cared just then.

After a moment, she pulled away and examined his face. God, she loved him. How did he know what things were important to her? She’d never told

him how much her daddy’s church meant to her. When they were off tour, she attended service on Sundays when she could, but Eric had never wanted to accompany her. He said church made him feel uncomfortable. So she’d gone by herself.

Eric caught a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “These better be happy tears, damn it,” he said.

“The happiest,” she assured him.

Eric captured her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “So you said I do and we kissed and everything, so does that mean we’re married and can start our wedding night? Because I really want to do things to you right now. Things I shouldn’t be thinking about in a church parking lot.”

Before she could answer, there was a loud thud on the hood of the car. Eric jumped up and shot out of his seat to lean over the windshield and grab someone by the shirt.

“You deliver a guy’s lucky tuxedo…” Trey said, both hands raised in surrender.

“Don’t hit my car,” Eric said through gritted teeth. He shoved Trey in the chest as he released him.

“I’ve been standing here trying to get your attention for several minutes,” Trey said. “But I see why you were distracted. Hellooooo, Rebekah Blake.”

“Sticks,” Eric corrected.