Wounded Wings (Cupid Chronicles) (14 page)

Chapter 18

Easter Sunday dawned slightly overcast, with the hint of a chilly rain hovering in the air.

Naomi rolled out dough in her kitchen to make their usual lemon meringue pies for the brunch after church service. The lazy perk of the coffee machine hissed in the background as she flipped on the radio to the low hum of Vi’s oldies station, enjoying the familiarity, but missing Vi like crazy. Easter would not be the same without her. But she got some comfort in knowing she’d be home soon.

The wind began to pick up and howl outside the window and she glanced up from the bowl of pie filling as two thoughts occurred to her simultaneously.

How am I going to get to church without getting absolutely soaked?

Is Eli going to be there?

She shook her head and dipped her finger into the bowl of sticky lemon yum. What did it matter if Eli was going? If he wanted to talk to her he wouldn’t have avoided her like the plague since their date last week.

Trouble was, she had no idea what she’d done to run him off. She thought they’d had a pretty good time. They’d laughed. She was fairly certain her breath hadn’t stunk. She hadn’t burned the food.
So what gives?

Guess he’s just not into scarred chicks with chips on their shoulder the size of the Grand Canyon.

She sighed and got back to the pie. She couldn’t blame him. She was one hot mess.

“And I don’t want him, anyway,” she reminded herself. “I have plans, and he’s nothing but trouble.”

“What’s that?” A deep, sleep-coated voice spoke behind her. “Who’s trouble?”

Naomi spun around, her stomach and heart in her throat. “Oh!” Her hands flew to her throat when she recognized Beau. “God, you scared me. What are you doing here?”

He made his way to the coffee pot and snagged a muffin from the counter. “And Happy Easter to you, too,” he said with a sarcastic smile. Then he winked. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You must not have heard me knock. I came to drive you to church.” He took a bite and inclined his head toward the window. “Looks like it’s gonna be a bitch out there today.”

“What about Delaney?” she couldn’t help asking.

He grinned. “What about her?”

“Aren’t you driving her?”

He took another bite, sipped his coffee, shrugged. “I’m driving you.”

She just stared at him.

He laughed. “Okay, fine. She’s doing some hair thing—” He waved his hand. “She’s meeting me there. Plus, I wanna make sure those bad boys get there safe.” He pointed to the lemon meringue pies.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But you’re helping.”

He bowed like a royal servant. “At your command, my lady.”

She bossed him around a little bit, just because it was fun to watch New Destiny’s Sheriff roll dough, mix pie filling, and whip up frothy meringue. And, she had to admit, he wasn’t half bad. “You know,” she said, “Delaney might want to keep you. You’re pretty handy in the kitchen.”

“That’s not all I’m handy with.” He smirked.

“Gross.” She shoved his shoulder. “Now put all these in the fridge and cool your heels, loverboy, while I go get showered.”

His reply was cut off by a giant peal of lightning and a crack of thunder, like the gods throwing a mean strike in the room, followed by a fresh torrent of rain pelting the windows.

She returned a few minutes later after rushing through a shower and hastily tossing on some makeup and twisting her hair at the nape of her neck. “Ready to go?”

Beau spun around and eyed her a moment then whistled low between his teeth. “Wow.”

She glanced down self-consciously. “What?” Was the jade green wrap too much? Well, now that she checked again, it was a little snug and she was a little busty. Shit. She should change. She spun around to do just that—

“He’s a goner and doesn’t even know it.”

His words froze her in her tracks. No need to ask who ‘he’ was.

She glanced down again. Maybe she should go with it.
He
might not even be there. And if he was . . . well, Easter just might be about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Well, interesting was one way to put it.

After driving through a torrential downpour to get to church, it suddenly cleared as Naomi and Beau were pulling into Old East’s parking lot. He was able to park in a space right by the front doors because it was unusually empty.

“Where is everybody?” Naomi wondered aloud. It was Easter Sunday, right? Yes. She glanced at the clock. They were on time. She thought for a sec. It wasn’t the weekend to change the clocks or anything. Hmm . . . weird.

Beau shrugged and they both glanced over as the front doors opened and the preacher stepped out with Delaney on his heels. Beau’s automatic smile was . . . sweet, Naomi decided.

Delaney immediately dashed to Beau’s door as he opened it, her flowery perfume invading the car. “Mornin’, guys.” She pressed a kiss to Beau’s cheek and offered Naomi a smile. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

Naomi opened her door to preacher Donovan’s smiling face. “Good morning, Miss Evans,” he said. “We came out to help you with the pies. Lemon meringue, I’m hoping?”

“As always.” She offered him a soft smile. “And how’s Mrs. Donovan? Is she doing any better with the chemo treatments?”

His eyes softened. “I’m afraid not, Naomi. But she said to tell everyone she’s here in spirit. She always loved Easter.”

Naomi didn’t know what to say. Janet Donovan had been the backbone of the church for so long. But she’d missed several services now because of the breast cancer that had crippled her in every way. Except for her spirit.

She nodded and the Pastor seemed to understand, as they all began unloading the pies and carting them into the fellowship hall. She wiped her hands on a napkin as a few other parishioners started trickling in. “It seems like a lighter crowd than usual. Is the rain keeping people away, even on Easter?”

Preacher Donovan shook his head sadly. “No, Naomi. Though I suspect the rain is keeping a few folks away, we’re missing nearly a third of the congregation to a nasty stomach virus that’s been going around.”

“Ah, man,” Beau said. “That’s horrible.”

The preacher nodded. “Tell me about it. I’ve just gotten over it myself, and the poor girls in the choir are down to just ol’ Sam there because all the other men are ill.”

Naomi’s gaze flew over to Vi’s man in the corner. When did Sam start singing in the choir?

“What about you, preacher?” Delaney asked.

“Me?” he guffawed. “Believe me, you don’t want me singing in any choir. The good Lord gifted me in plenty of ways, but singing isn’t one of them. I’d make your ears bleed. Isn’t that right, Claudia?”

Naomi glanced over at the newcomer. She hadn’t noticed the pretty, young choir director walk in. “I’m sorry to say, but, yes,” she said, her dark eyes bobbing with merriment.

The preacher laughed good-naturedly as Naomi took in the woman’s tight sweater and sweet smile. How could she look like
that
and sing, too? How was that fair?

“And what about you, Beau?” Naomi teased, knowing full well he sang about as well as a barn cat with its tail on fire.

Dealaney stifled a giggle. She must be in on his ‘skills,’ too.

The preacher, Delaney, and Claudia Tight Sweater watched expectantly. Beau swallowed nervously. “Um . . . no. I’m sorry. I can’t sing.” He rubbed his neck. “Plus I’ve got a sore throat.”

Preacher Donovan’s face fell in concern. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Beau nodded.

Liar
, Naomi mouthed.

He just shrugged and glanced away, obviously relieved to be off the hook. Especially when Delaney’s family showed up. He turned to her, but didn’t say a word, as Delaney squealed with delight and embraced her peeps.

Naomi shooed him off with a hand motion. No reason to keep him all to herself. He should be with his lady friend and her family.

“Heading in to choir practice,” Sam called out as he moved toward the sanctuary.

“Be there in a bit,” Claudia said with an über-sweet smile.

Just as Naomi was deciding how much she hated the syrupy sweet Latina Barbie doll, the side door swung open, letting in a gust of cool, damp air–and a shot of testosterone in the form of a brooding Eli in his Easter finery.

Everyone shifted simultaneously, including doll-face Claudia, whose smile about split her face in two–but showcased her perfect, sparkling white teeth. Yeah, it was official. Naomi hated her. “Eli!” she squealed, hurling herself across the room in her neck-breaking heels. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She threw her arms around him, and Naomi got a little thrill, though she’d die before admitting it, that he cringed like Claudia had made him swallow a bug and stepped back quickly with a strained smile.

His gaze immediately found Naomi’s then he turned away as more people surrounded him like the prodigal son. She used the opportunity to take him in. He sure cleaned up nice. Away from the diner, he always dressed like some kind of male model, but today he’d pulled out all the stops. Crisp black slacks. A button-down dress shirt the color of a robin’s egg that looked ultra-soft and über-expensive. Black leather shoes, shined to perfection.

Her eyes slowly perused up to his freshly shaven face, his unsmiling, sensual mouth, the negligent curls hitting the collar of that luxurious shirt . . . and found his dreamy eyes staring at her. Again.

Busted.

“How’s it goin’, Miz Naomi?”

She jumped guiltily at the deep voice next to her. She peered up into Michael’s grinning face. “Oh, hi, Michael. I didn’t see you come in.”

His smile became wider, if that was possible. “Me ‘n Eli helped Miz Sharla with some repairs at her house early this morning. Then we all rode together to church.” He tilted his head toward the hottie with his entourage. “I just dropped Eli and Sharla off while I parked the car.”

Naomi’s brows turned down. “Where’s Sharla?”

Michael shrugged. “I dunno. I suppose she slipped into the sanctuary with the choir. She did say something about practicing before the service.”

“Ah . . .”

But she was interrupted by a squeal of delight and Claudia throwing her arms, and her cleavage, around Eli. “Oh, thank you, thank you,
thank you
!” She pressed a kiss to his cheek that lingered a little too long to be considered friendly and Naomi cringed.

Michael harrumphed next to her.

Claudia let Eli go then spun and lasered him with her big brown eyes. “You!”

Michael pointed a beefy finger at his chest. “Me?”

Claudia pranced their way, her heels clacking away on the church’s worn linoleum. “Yes. You. You’re next on my hit list.” She batted her too-long lashes at him, making Naomi want to vomit. But, like watching a train wreck, she couldn’t turn away. She had to see what was coming.

Naomi watched as Eli slinked away toward the sanctuary like a whooped puppy and wondered what in the world this Claudia was up to.

Claudia offered Michael her hand like a limp noodle with fuchsia tips, then gave Naomi a dismissive little smile as she turned her attention back to him. “I’m Claudia de la Paz. I’m the choir director here. I don’t believe we’ve met, have we?”

Michael’s eyes quickly scanned the woman up and down, and he seemed to somehow find her lacking. Naomi wasn’t sure how she knew that, but it made her feel a little better. But, he smiled just as friendly as always as he accepted her limp handshake. “Yes, ma’am, I believe we have. I’m Michael Smith and I work at the diner.”

“Ah, right.” She sucked in a breath. Naomi could only assume to shove her breasts higher in her tight sweater. “Well. Michael. As you may have noticed, quite a few of our parishioners are sick today . . .” She shook her head sadly.

“Yes, ma’am. I’d heard. That’s too bad.” He glanced at Naomi.

She shrugged. She had no idea where this was going.

They all glanced over as the sanctuary door opened and closed, the pitiful sound of the rehearsing choir filtering in. It was maybe one step up from nails on a chalkboard. Ouch.

Claudia cleared her throat, as if that was going to cover up the mess that was her choir. She suddenly seemed embarrassed. “So.” She gazed back up at Michael. “It appears that the majority of the choir members that I’ve lost today because of this bug are men and I’m on the prowl for a few fill-ins.” She lifted a perfectly penciled brow and stared at him expectantly.

Michael stood there silently, his face blank, as though he was waiting for her to go on.

“Well?” she asked.

“What?” he said, obviously clueless.

“Will you do it? I already got Eli to agree,” she said as if that would seal the deal.

Michael’s mouth hung open. Naomi was sure hers did, too. Eli? Singing? She had a hard time picturing that.

“Oh, come on,” Claudia urged, her voice becoming shrill. “It’s just for today. I’m desperate here!”

The sanctuary door opened again as someone else entered and the painful sounds that resembled singing, or a dozen cats dying, floated in again.

Michael glanced at Naomi again and winked. “All right. I’ll do it.”

Was he . . . actually excited about it?

“Yeah! Go on in and someone can get you up to speed on the songs.” She hugged him around the neck. “Thank you so much! You’re saving my life here. Really.”

“No worries,” he said as he lumbered off humming.

Hmmm. Well the choir couldn’t sound any worse.

Suddenly alone, as Claudia wandered off with the preacher and the couple of other suckers she could wrangle for the choir, and Beau had moved off to sit with Delaney’s family, Naomi busied herself with straightening the pies before filing into the sanctuary with everyone else.