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can’t
think about him like that .”
    “Why not? He’s
absolutely divine ,” she teased. “Those dark eyes? His voice. God. I
could listen to him preach for hours.”
    Samantha gave a
wiggle. “He’s the best thing that’s happened to Mass since Vatican II.”
    They laughed. I
forced a smile, but I didn’t dare indulge in speaking of him that way,
thinking of his eyes, his commanding voice that had demanded my confession and
so much more.
    It wasn’t harmless
fun. I feared my desires had become a dark obsession.
    I couldn’t stop thinking of Father Raphael, and he wasn’t just a danger to my fleeting
attention span. Surrendering to any indecent, wicked, or alluring thoughts of
him would only unravel me more.
    I was better than
this. Stronger. I vowed to fight that attraction.
    So why did my skin
pickle as they giggled over his name? I silently chastised them, but the true
shame centered solely within me.
    “Yesterday?”
Samantha lowered her voice, hiding her lips behind her coffee cup. “He played
basketball in the courtyard with the youth group.”
    “In the cassock?”
Alyssa’s eyes widened.
    “And sunglasses ,”
Samantha said.
    “Oh, that man. Nothing
is as sexy as the cassock, but under those robes? He’s totally ripped. Who’d
have thought a priest would put so much effort into his appearance.”
    Samantha winked.
“Our body is a temple.”
    “I’d worship his
all night.”
    “What a waste.”
    I bit through the
cookie so hard I was lucky I didn’t shatter a tooth. Father Raphael’s cassock
symbolized something impenetrable and mysterious and intimidating. It
hid what was once the man and presented only the priest.
    And they were
right. It was unbelievably sexy.
    I shrugged. “It’s
certainly…formal.”
    “He says he likes
it that way,” Alyssa whispered. “He’s strict about almost everything, including
his presentation.”
    “Wonder if he’s
strict in other places besides the church?” Samantha asked.
    “I bet he has
other uses for that cincture around his waist.”
    Thoughts blinded
me. Desperate, unholy images of silks and bindings, bodies and heat.
    “We really
shouldn’t…” I didn’t even want to speak it aloud. “He’s a priest .”
    Alyssa laughed. “So
what? Priests are like the Queen’s guards in England. They’re not allowed to
react. You can do anything you wanted to Daddy El, and he couldn’t flirt back.”
    “I don’t think
that’s true—”
    “You know what she
needs?” Samantha winked. “Honor should spend more time at St. Cecilia’s.”
    Oh, I knew what
they wanted. I wagged a finger. “I already said I couldn’t.”
    “Come on .
The choir was so much more fun in high school. Now everyone’s moved on and gone
to college. It’s not the same.” Alyssa pouted. “And you used to love to sing.
It’s perfect. You moved home just in time to form our trio.”
    Samantha didn’t
let me protest. “It’s settled. You’re in. Auditions are later this week for the
competitive group. You have to do that too. During the summer festival,
we’re holding a Battle of the Choirs. We thought it was kinda lame at first,
but Daddy El is excited about it. He wanted to start a new tradition, and he’s
already talked to a bunch of other parishes to participate.”
    Alyssa bit her
lip. “It’s a chance to make him proud. He can show us off to the other
churches.”
    Yes, exactly what
Jesus would do. “I don’t know. My college’s choir wasn’t really formal, and I
think the director was just fulfilling some sort of court mandated—”
    “The choir?”  Mom
spoke loud enough to ensure all the women heard her. “Oh, my baby has the
sweetest voice. Absolutely heavenly. Go on, honey. Join the choir. You loved it
when you were little.”
    True, but I had
also loved the opportunity to leave the house when I was young.
    The women took
their seats as Judy cleared her throat with the expectation of quiet. Mom
missed the hint. She pulled me into the seat