Preacher's Daughter: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Read online

  Lifting both hands in surrender, I glance at the case, and then back at the law. Then the nun.

  She’s nothing like her predecessor, I just feel it.

  “Go ahead, open it,” I say, only looking at Faith now.

  Remembering the promises I made to both her and to Gramma.

  Firm hands from suits sit me down, and the local sheriff I know tracked us across our journey fidgets with the key and clicks the old case open, lifting the lid and whistling to himself.

  The old nun gasps so does Faith, and the suits just sneer. Smug.

  Knowingly. Like they’ve had Christmas in July.

  “Well, there must be a million dollars in hundreds and fifties here,” remarks the sheriff.

  “About the same amount left unaccounted for from the armored car heist!”

  The feds take over the case, that sheriff barking some crap about me being taken into custody.

  Its Faith that butts in though, the voice of reason.

  My girl.

  God, how I love her when she’s so wound up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Faith

  Everything feels weird, horrible. Until I see my Dad.

  Then I feel like I’m about to be taken away from Noah and cling to him like nothing else.

  Dad gives me his best do as they say look, but I won’t leave his side. I can’t.

  I mustn’t.

  I admit it though, my face drops a little when they open the suitcase.

  Once I see all that money.

  But when Noah’s eyes meet mine again, I smile. Once the overpowering odor of mothballs hits me, my smile brightens even more.

  Then it nearly fills the whole room.

  “Ah, there looks to be a letter in there too, sheriff,” Noah observes, craning his neck with one of those winning smiles as he glances over the proceedings.

  The nun, the cops and even my own Dad fall back, clutching at their mouths from the smell.

  Noah seems to be familiar with it and doesn’t recoil so much.

  “You said this was the armed robbery bandit,” One of the men in a suit snarls at the sheriff, then narrows his eyes as he focuses on my Dad.

  “Kidnapper, Bandit,” he continues, his look darkening as he surveys the contents of the case.

  Noah, his eyes wide with mischief now only shrugs as he shoots me another little wink.

  “Let’s have some introductions, folks,” Noah says, standing again. His deep voice filling the room as he straightens himself, suddenly looking down on the men in suits, even my Dad.

  And especially the old nun.

  “I’m Noah Templeton. Was taken in by the good sisters here at Saint Theresa’s as a boy… Later I was informally adopted by the retiring Mother Superior of the day, Sister Margaret Laurence,” he adds with some pride.

  The old nun shifts in her seat, moving only to look over the money herself now.

  “The letter,” she says dryly, pointing to the yellowed envelope on top of all that cash, bundled up neatly in rows of what looks to me like fifties and hundreds alright.

  FBI suit guy snaps a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and clawing his little hands into them, then he starts to carefully open the paper envelope while everyone leans in closer.

  His eyes narrow, then widen, finally softening as he passes the paper to his off-sider, who then hands it to the sheriff before he rests it back on the stack of neatly rolled bills.

  “Mr. Templeton,” he drawls loudly, sounding more annoyed than anything.

  “Got yourself a bit of an alibi here, dated and signed witness account of a part of a will, making you the authorized delivery boy of a sizable cash donation to one Saint Theresa’s Convent,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.

  I see and feel Noah relax, satisfied like he’s listening to a friendly voice from the past.

  “There should be a million dollars there,” The agent continues. “Note here says so, signed and witnessed by three lawyers and the former governor of Florida for Christ’s sakes! Oh, sorry, Father… Sister…”

  I try not to laugh but notice my Dad and the sheriff’s red faces.

  “But… But he took the girl! We have her father’s-” The sheriff tries to say.

  The suit gives him a look that stops him in his tracks.

  “Miss… Did this man..?” he starts to ask, and I shake my head firmly, avoiding my Dad’s eyes as I move over to Noah again, who takes me in his arms.

  “We’re gonna need some statements,” growls the Sheriff, tipping his hat forward, trying to lock eyes with Noah and then my Dad, followed by the feds.

  But he can’t hold any of them to his own wandering stare.

  “Here’s your statement!” cries the old nun, snatching up the creased paper from the pile of money and giving all of us a sour look.

  “And, I’m no police expert, but don’t you need some kind of papers of your own to even be in here? You told me there was some dangerous criminal on the loose… some fugitive.”

  An awkward hush comes over the room, but the old nun’s just getting started.

  I can imagine her, thirty years ago, slapping the hands of kids’ like Noah’s when they cut class or were caught out doing the wrong thing.

  She’s tough, but it’s a tough love. I can tell.

  “This young man, Noah Templeton, is a former ward of the state and one of Saint Theresa’s greatest success stories,” she continues.

  I hug myself closer to Noah, feeling his arm tighten around my waist as I swell with pride over him.

  “If you’d told me his name before you barged in here, making out like we were all going to be slain in our beds, I would have laughed in your faces then asked you all to leave, which is what I must do now, gentlemen. Law or not. I don’t think you’ve got the right man, and I have got a mind to call our own attorney in relation to this gross invasion of privacy! Not to mention… it’s almost dinner time, plus tonight’s canasta.”

  “With all due respect,” Sheriff Brodie says firmly, “I’m gonna need to take this case and this man in for some serious questioning.”

  One of the agents groans, smiling at the nun.

  “How ‘bout you check your jurisdiction, Brodie? If anyone has questions, it’s us and you have quite a few to answer. Wasting Federal investigation hours isn’t just a charge we can lay on the public, y’know.”

  Brodie takes a seat, removing his hat and mopping his brow which has suddenly grown hot and very wet.

  “We will need a statement from you, sister, and from both of you,” the agent continues, narrowing his eyes on Noah and me.

  “But we can do that anytime, that is if you plan to stick around until we can check all this over?” he asks.

  Noah nods his head, frowning in agreement.

  “This can be put in our safe, until such a time as Noah claims his share of it. Once all this nonsense is cleared up,” The nun murmurs, running her hands over the lid as she closes the case.

  “What do you mean, his share?” I hear my Dad ask, sounding more than annoyed.

  “Our attorney let us know that on her passing, Mother Superior Laurence had made provision in her estate for Noah, the grandson she never adopted legally but raised as her own. She wanted him to know that all those rules and years of her coming down hard on him were for his own good… And, she’d hoped that one day he’d settle down and have a family of his own. She wanted to do what she could to provide for that,” she says, softening her expression and actually smiling for once.

  Smiling as she looks from me to Noah.

  “And I think he’s well on his way to doing just that. Although, I must admit it is a surprise to see now what she really meant by that,” she says quietly, crossing herself.

  “Uh, just a minute,” Brodie stammers. “Just what in blazes is a nun doing with a million in cash in the first place?” he asks, almost whining as he looks to the agents, hoping for their suspicions to join his.

  But they only groan again.

&n
bsp; “We’ll get out of your hair, Sister Montieth. Very sorry to have taken your time,” the agents mumble, ushering us and then my Dad and Sheriff Brodie out into the huge hallway.

  “Know a good place to stay in town?” Noah asks one of the agents.

  “We’re staying at the Oaks,” he informs him, still scowling at the Sheriff and I look to my Dad but notice he won’t even acknowledge me right now.

  “Then we’ll be sure and find someplace else,” Noah says heartily, before noting my own look and then stepping over to my Dad.

  “Look, Padre. I meant what I said, about having that talk man to man. I’m not just some random guy. I want to talk to you about-” But Dad’s not having any of it, he pushes past Noah and still ignoring me, he storms out another side door, making sure it slams loudly behind him.

  “Well… We’ll leave you to it, Mr. Templeton. Ms. Holding,” The agent says, almost offering a hand but thinking better of it. The agents and the Sheriff all leave through the same side door, leaving Noah and me alone in the corridor.

  “What the heck just happened?” I ask Noah, relishing his more intense embrace before he kisses me, asking me if I’m okay.

  “I’m not sure, but I feel awful about your Dad. I really did want to talk to him. Is he gonna be okay?” Noah asks, making me realize just how much his former Mother Superior made the right choice.

  Noah’s biggest concern is everyone else, then himself.

  “I don’t know to be honest,” I sigh heavily, wondering too if only Dad had stayed long enough, we might all have gone to dinner or something. Had a long talk and I could have told him how much I love Noah, how much I want to move in with him and give this thing between us all I’ve got.

  Because right now, it is all I’ve got, and I know it’s here for a reason.

  All the best reasons.

  “He’ll come around,” I whisper, running my hand down Noah’s front and feeling another sigh turn into a shiver. I recommend we get a hotel that’s nowhere near the Oaks.

  “You could afford the penthouse suite now,” I joke as we climb back into Noah’s truck.

  He smiles and then laughs to himself.

  “Can have those any day of the week,” he observes. Reminding me that he’s not desperate for any money. He’s his own self-made man.

  “How ‘bout we just grab some takeout, then maybe find a place to park?” I venture, a mischievous glint in my eye.

  “You mean, sleep in the truck?” he asks, chuckling before his brow goes up, letting me know he was thinking the exact same thing.

  “Who said anything about sleeping?” I tease him, letting my hand accidentally on purpose land on his thigh, falling towards his bulging groin as he starts the truck with a broad grin.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Noah

  With Faith coiled up around me, I watch the sunrise for the second day in a row with her body against mine, telling myself that this must be what heaven feels like.

  To be so close to the one thing you love more than anything day after day.

  We got some take out, then I found what looked like a secluded spot by the lake not too far from the center of town. We talked over everything that happened, laughed a lot, then she nearly cried about her Dad again, and then we ate before I made love to her all night.

  She doesn’t mind the truck, at least not for one night. It’s not too bad in the back. A thick mattress and plenty of room.

  We could’ve gone anywhere, but I know Faith wanted to see and feel how I’d been living on my journey the past few days.

  I feel lighter too, not just because I finally have her, even though it only took a day but because I don’t have that damned case to worry about anymore.

  My share?

  They can keep it. What I learned from old Gramma Laurence… that’s worth a lot more than a few hundred thousand.

  It could go towards the house, I try and tell myself.

  But I know I already have plenty and with Faith by my side, I’ll always be the richer man for it.

  The richest man alive is what I feel like.

  I feel her stirring, making those little sounds that drive me wild, and just when I feel her hands starting to explore my body all over again there comes a sudden tap at the window of the cab of the truck.

  Faith’s eyes dart open, and she clutches at me for a moment, thinking maybe she dreamt the sound.

  But when the tap comes again, harder and with a deep voice telling me it’s the police, I set her mind at ease.

  “It’ll be alright, must’ve parked in the wrong spot,” I tell her as I try to calm myself down.

  Not one who likes being disturbed first thing, I’m less than impressed when I recognize the state trooper tapping on my truck as one of the gang from last night.

  “Oh! Well if it isn’t mister Templeton. Sorry to rouse you sir, but you’re parked in a campsite area and I didn’t see a permit in your window.”

  I blink, pulling some pants on before heaving myself over the seat into the cab and climbing out.

  The trooper looks away, giving me time to get myself decent, but I don’t get it.

  “You been following me?” I ask him, wondering why he of all people would be here so early.

  He smiles wearily. “No, Mr. Templeton. We just don’t have many troopers out this way, and this morning I drew campsite duty, on account of the ranger being ill,” he explains, stifling a yawn.

  “Well, I don’t have a permit,” I tell him. “Didn’t know I needed one. Fine me if you want, I’ll pay before we leave,” I tell him curtly.

  “We?” he asks as he scratches his temple, his eyes widening as he sees Faith clambering over the seat of the truck, making him gulp and look away, embarrassed.

  She’s decent, but I kind of regret the intrusion all the same.

  “Two birds I guess,” The trooper muses to himself. “You’re wanted back at the convent, as soon as you can make it. Those federal boys wanna tie up all this business and make arrangements for you to bank your half of the money. Not a great idea to drive cross country with so much cash,” he adds, tapping his nose.

  “And pay the local as well as federal tax on inheritance, I suppose?” I almost sneer. “No thanks. The convent can keep the money, I don’t want it,” I tell him firmly.

  “We’ll still need some papers signed, the young lady too,” he adds, pretending not to flinch at my refusal of the money.

  “I’ll follow you then,” I tell him. “Where you parked?” I ask.

  “Just over there,” he says cheerily, tipping his hat before turning to go to his cruiser.

  “Can we make a stop on the way?” I tell him more than ask, stabbing my thumb behind me towards Faith. “Rest stop, we wanna freshen up,” I tell him.

  “Sure thing,” he smiles and in less than a half-hour, we’re all back at the convent, with me and Faith noting some peculiar absences.

  Her Dad.

  “Where’s my Dad?” Faith asks nervously.

  I hold her hand, risking some venom from a different nun who’s sitting in today, but she only smiles.

  “Uh, your Dad and the Sheriff drove back last night I believe, no need for them to be here,” The trooper offers. There’s only one agent today too, who looks bored. Eager for us to sign some stuff so he can be on his way, probably to try and catch the real fugitive out there somewhere.

  “Pity,” I tell the room, eyeing Faith and squeezing her hand tighter.

  She looks down, but I know we can drive back and see him, be there today if we’re not kept too long with all this.

  “How’s that, Mr. Templeton?” The agent asks, his interest suddenly piqued.

  I’m just about to answer, when the door swings open, the agent almost reaching for his side out of reflex.

  “Daddy!” cries Faith, who leaps into his arms as he holds her tight, turning them both around.

  The agent sighs.

  “Great timing, Padre,” I tell him, noting his face is worn but a little less h
ostile than the night before.

  Straining a smile for the sake of his daughter, he asks me how so.

  “I was just thinking, we need a preacher. Someone who could marry us,” I say loudly, watching the Preacher’s face drop and Faith’s brighten as her whole body tenses.

  But he’s shaking his head, not liking this at all as he takes me by the elbow, begging to talk with me in private.

  I let Faith know it’s alright, that we’ll be back in a minute and we both step out into the hall, her Preacher father and I.

  Still gripping my elbow, he walks with me, or rather he guides me out onto the grounds. A smaller place than I remember, but everything usually is now that I’m bigger, older.

  “You’re a man of many surprises, Noah,” he says finally sighing, shaking his head again.

  “I was ready to go home, to pray for strength at the idea that my little girl’s all grown up… But a man old enough to be her father as well? I tell you something, Noah, I haven’t had such a series of sleepless nights, ever!” he exclaims, almost smiling, but its fatigue in his eyes, not irony or even sarcasm.

  “She is mine now, Father. Can I call you that?” I ask, noting his sharp inhalation of breath before he nods silently.

  “I also just learned that you don’t want any of that money, that you want it all to go to the convent?” he asks, stopping me as he holds me with his eyes.

  “That’s right. I’ve got plenty of my own, I have a successful business. I was only delivering the money because it’s what Gramma… What Mother Superior Laurence wanted, kind of her last wish,” I tell him.

  “Where did all that money come from?” he asks me and I shrug.

  “Gramma was always doing, father. She was always raising money for this or that, I know firsthand she wouldn’t hesitate over parting with a single dollar if it was for a good cause. I think she just did what she did best, put herself second to those in need, and had a greater vision for the convent once she’d finally passed, most of it would have been her entire wages and pension, I imagine. Sixty years of service,” I reflect, feeling something catch in my throat at her memory.