Communion (On My Knees Duet 3)

"Which ones?"

She motions over her head, and in her pretty, Madrid accent, she says, "Two of them have...antennae. And logos like news organizations."

My stomach drops so hard that I feel almost dizzy. Tightening my grip on little Edey, I walk into the sitting room that’s right by the front door, peek out the blinds, and literally see a flash go off.

"Well, fuckballs."

I jump as Bri speaks from right behind me: "I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

"No, it's okay." It is definitely not okay.

Still bouncing the baby, I go back to my phone and Google "Pastor Luke." Just see what the wider media is saying…

Pastor Luke Hitched in Surprise Vegas Wedding

Pastor Marries New York Artist in Quickie Wedding

Influencer Kingpin "Pastor Luke" Shows His Rainbow

Legendary Pastor McDowell Marries Man

Okay, so I guess our story has been picked up by more than just the tabloids. I should have dug deeper earlier, so I’d have known. I scroll a little more, and what I see makes my lungs lock up.

Recently Outed Pastor Married — With Love Child?

I click the headline with a shaking finger.

"Pastor Luke" McDowell and his artist partner Vance Rayne, whose act of valor—pushing McDowell out of the way of a speeding car—put both men in the headlines less than two months ago, were wed in Vegas last night, according to witnesses who photographed the controversial couple's hasty nuptials and spoke with them after the event.

There are few scenes more unexpected than the newly-outed pastor of America's largest megachurch marrying a man in a chapel on the Vegas strip. But McDowell and Rayne are no strangers to controversy. Court papers filed late yesterday afternoon in San Francisco County reveal Zara Stephens has requested paternity testing to discern whether Rayne or McDowell is the father of a female infant.

Speaking with The Post this morning, Stephens says, "The worst thing is not knowing. I was with both men on the same night. I knew I was going to carry their baby as a surrogate, but I wanted to know which man was the father of the baby, and I wanted some time to visit with the baby after she was born.

“Pastor McDowell refused to give me that. If I'm to give up my child, and I am okay with doing that, I just want to know which man fathered her. And I want to be compensated fairly for this pregnancy. It was not easy on my body or mind."

I turn the phone off and walk toward the bedroom, not noticing until I'm almost there that Eden is starting to cry like she wants milk.

Fuck.

I can barely even make a bottle. My damn hands are shaking so bad. As soon as I sit in an armchair near the fireplace, the phone rings, and I drop the bottle while shifting Eden onto one arm and trying to answer.

“Fuck.” I cringe at my shitty language as I scoop the thing up, giving the tip to Eden as I answer Sky’s call.

"Rayne?" His voice is a soft growl.

"I saw. There are news vans outside your house."

"Our house."

"Our house," I murmur.

"Dammit."

I shut my eyes. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out together.”

"I should have known we shouldn't take the baby,” Luke says. “That it was too screwy. And getting married in Vegas—"

"Was incredible,” I interrupt. “Let's never feel bad about our wedding that made us 'legal.' All this other shit? We'll figure it out."

"What is there to figure out? It's extortion, plain and simple. She wants money,” Luke says.

"You think that's her goal? To get paid for being our supposed surrogate?"

I hear him blow a breath out. "I don't know. When she talked to The Post she said a lot about how we had promised to pay her but didn't. I can't tell if smearing me is an intentional part of this, or if who I am just paved the way for what she thought was a good story. My lawyer is reaching out to her within the hour. Hoping to get her saying something that's incriminating."

My throat lumps up as I glance down at Eden. "What if she promises to go away as long as we pay her?"

I'm not going to spell my thoughts out, but he knows what I'm asking. He doesn't answer, and I try to brace myself for him to say he doesn't need the complication. Instead he says, "What do you think?"

"Me?"

He chuckles. "Vanny, Vanny… Can the baby talk?"

I note he didn't call her by the name we gave her.

"Do you think it’s crazy I still kind of want to keep her, McD?"

He lets out a long breath. "No," he whispers. His voice is rough when he says, "I want her, too. I don't even know why. I guess it feels so good to have a family with you."