A jolt of awareness shot through her.
When Carolyn didn’t jerk away, he considered that her approval to hold her hand.
How much of a pushover are you?
But she liked that he’d reached out to her—in more ways than one. Giving him the cold shoulder in church, where she’d learned to turn the other cheek, would make her a hypocrite.
The service ended and people started to get up.
She faced him.
His eyes were so somber.
“Carson, why are you here?”
“To ask for your forgiveness.” He allowed a ghost of a smile before he winced in pain. “Figured I’d ask for God’s too while I was at it.”
“I didn’t know you were Catholic.”
“Baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church in Sundance. Both my mom and Dad were Catholic. Mom made sure we went to church pretty near every week. After she died… Then we stopped goin’.” His eyes searched hers. “We need to talk. You pick where that happens.”
“Fine. It’ll be somewhere isolated so I can yell at you without everyone thinking I’m a crazy person.”
Another slight smile was there and gone. “I deserve every bit of whatever you dish out.”
They waited to shake hands with the priest, a fairly young guy. Thoughtful and kind, he welcomed Carolyn as part of the congregation even when she only attended services a few times a year.
“Carolyn. I’m so happy to see you brought a guest today.” He beamed at Carson and offered his hand. “I’m Father Dorian.”
“Carson McKay.”
“Are you from around here, Mr. McKay?”
“Sundance.”
“Ah. I’ve filled in for Father Balough a few times at the St. Ignatius.”
“I don’t know him. Father Summerall was in charge last time I went.”
“That’s been a few years.” He paused and Carson seemed to tense, as if waiting for Father Dorian’s judgment on his poor church attendance. “Which means we’re very happy to see you return to the fold. God’s blessings on the day to both of you.”
Carson kept his hand in the small of her back, steering her toward the door. He plucked his hat off the rack, settled it on his head and they stepped outside into the breezy summer morning.
“Father Dorian surprised me.”
“Because he’s so young?”
“No. Because he seems happy bein’ a priest. I know from experience they’re not all like that. Some of ’em are downright mean.”
“I’ve had a few old-school priests at St. Mary’s. But Father Dorian is just as wonderful as he appears to be. He comes out to the house to give my mother communion since she’s unable to attend services.”
He led her to his truck and opened the passenger door, assisting her up since her skirt restricted movement. Unlike last week, he didn’t try and cop a feel or steal a kiss or make a suggestive comment.
He was acting very un-Carson like.
Then again, he hadn’t acted like himself last night either, so it wasn’t all bad.
They arrived at Founders Park, which hadn’t been overrun with children yet. Again Carson was a gentleman, assisting her down the sidewalk to a picnic table beneath several large oak trees.
Her mother used to bring her here with Thomas and Kimi. She’d watch them from the car, letting them run wild on the playground. Kimi was so little Carolyn wondered if she remembered that their mother used to do…motherly type things with them before the arthritis rendered her incapable of everything.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Caro?”
“Family stuff. What are you thinking about?”
Carson was by her side in an instant; his hands gently framed her face. “I’m thinkin’ that I’m dyin’ to kiss you. I’m thinkin’ about what an ass I was to you last night. I’m thinkin’ I don’t even know where to start makin’ this up to you.” He paused. “Or if you even want me to try.”
Somehow she kept her eyes locked on his and said, “Try the truth.”
“I wasn’t with that woman last night.”
“You had your arm around her.”
“I know. But that’s all I did and only when you could see it. I dropped it as soon as you were gone.”
“Why?”
“To make you think I was a bastard. That I’d just used you, I was done with you and I moved on to someone else.”
Her stomach dropped to her toes and she tried to break free from his hold.
But he wouldn’t let her go. “You need to hear me out. It’s as hard for me to say as it is for you to hear.”
“I doubt that.”
Carson threaded their fingers together. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Really f**kin’ sorry. Afterward I punished myself by pickin’ a fight, but the pain I received wasn’t even close to the goddamn pain I saw in your eyes when I said the shit I did.”
“Language,” she murmured.
“See? You’re too good to be true. But I want that goodness in my life. I need it. I need you. I know things went a little fast between us last week. I was so tied up in knots over you that I wasn’t payin’ attention to see if anyone else might’ve taken notice of us spendin’ so much time together.”
“Someone saw us?” They’d been so wrapped up in each other that they’d rolled around on a blanket at a picnic area. They’d practically skinny-dipped at Keyhole. They’d gone at it half-naked against Carson’s truck—also just off the main road where anyone could’ve seen them. Then he’d come to her house. Specifically into her bedroom. And he’d parked in the front yard, bold as brass. “Who?”