Willa refused to sit still and let Lucky intimidate her. She opened her mouth to snap at him then changed her mind. Taking another bite of food, she instead stewed silently as the children suddenly seemed to remember how to behave appropriately in public.
When the waitress came back with his food, Willa, feeling self-conscious, tried not to stare as he ate his burger and fries while she continued to eat her own food.
She had no idea how to talk to men, much less one she battled her constant attraction to despite telling herself it was only his handsome face that drew her. His muscular body in suits had been a thing of fantasies, but Lucky in jeans and T-shirts with his tattoos showing on his arms was enough to make any woman speechless.
“You must have had a hard time keeping your tattoos covered.” Willa blushed, not able to believe she mentioned something personal about his body.
“It was hard during the summertime, but I was used to hotter temperatures overseas, so it wasn’t too bad.”
“Do you miss being a pastor?” Willa asked curiously. “You had the whole town believing that ministering was your calling in life.”
He left her question unanswered. “Everyone, it seems, but you.” Lucky tilted his head to the side. “Why?”
Willa took her time answering, trying to come up with exactly why she hadn’t believed in the man all the parishioners had taken into their hearts.
“I have an uncle and several cousins who are pastors. I was raised in the church.”
“So were Beth and Lily, and they were just as surprised when I left the church.” The women’s father had been the pastor Lucky had taken over for after his ‘death.’
“Saul Cornett wasn’t a real pastor. Thank God my parents weren’t some of the fanatics who followed him.”
Lucky’s voice turned grim. “I won’t disagree with that assessment.”
Willa took a drink of her ice water. From his expression, he was still waiting for her to answer his question.
“You did everything perfect: gave the right sermon, were gentle with the children, even when their crying disturbed your sermons…” Her eyes went to Caroline and Chrissy who were playing contentedly next to him with their toys, chewing on the french fries he had given them. The other three children were sitting, listening quietly to their conversation.
Charlie had lost his angry expression and was awestruck by the large biker sitting at the table. Sissy wasn’t awestruck; she was eying the bikers as if they were her dessert. Thankfully, the bikers didn’t return her flirtatious smiles.
“You never paid too much attention to the women parishioners, even when they threw themselves at you. I couldn’t find fault with anything you did. That was the problem. Nobody’s that perfect; we all have weaknesses.”
Lucky’s mouth twitched in humor. “What’s your weakness, Willa?”
Willa gave a wry twist of her lips. “I think that’s obvious.”
He frowned at her answer. “Enlighten me … because, from what I’ve observed, you place yourself on a moral high ground.”
Willa paled at his harsh assessment of her. “Is that what you truly believe?”
Chrissy began to try to climb out of the highchair Willa had placed her in, but Lucky deftly unsnapped the front tray, lifting the fussy toddler onto his lap and giving her the toy she had dropped onto the floor.
“If you believe your weight is a weakness in God’s eyes, then, yes. Believe me, He has much more damning sins to forgive than worrying whether you have a cheeseburger or grilled chicken for lunch.”
Willa stared back blankly at Lucky, not knowing how to respond to him. From the time she was Caroline’s age, she remembered her mother being critical of her size. As she grew older and began school, it was obvious she was bigger than the other girls her age—another criticism her mother pointed out.
Her mother was small and delicate. Willa would try to emulate her so hard, yet despite her efforts, she was never able to achieve her mother’s approval. Then her father and mother would argue over her, making her feel worse for causing contention between the usually loving couple.
As an only child, she had felt like she was an interloper in her own home. The loving couple had planned on not having children, so she had been an accident and stolen her mother’s freedom, something her mother had reminded her of frequently. Willa had tried to be a good daughter, striving to please her mother and father. However, each parent resented the time she took away from the other; as a result, Willa had learned early not to make demands on her parents’ time.
Had she unknowingly developed the same critical attitude she disliked in her mother? Willa hoped not. She wanted to be liked, not resented.
She stared down at her half-eaten plate of food, placing her fork on the table, unable to eat another bite.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Willa raised her eyes, unaware they were filled with hurt, to meet Lucky’s surprised gaze.
Lucky shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant, Willa.”