Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 47 - Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone

Food, drinks and movies set up and waiting, Jojo and Jill are twenty minutes late. 

Not that I’m surprised.  Jojo is perpetually late and Bishop’s Mercedes is still parked in Jill’s driveway. 

So, that’s fine.  Clark is making mixers in the kitchen – with specific recipes to follow – and singing Donna Summer’s Bad Girls. 

Badly.  I have to smile at that.  His moves, however, are flawless.  

I’m upstairs changing into my Power Puff pajamas and pulling my hair up in a loose pony tail when I smell him. 

Woodsmoke and cloves. 

“Where are you?” I ask, trying to cover the warble in my voice. 

He comes into view, leaning against the door frame of my bathroom. 

I just fucking miss him. 

“You’re still too skinny,” he tells me.  He looks just as sad and scared as I feel. 

“Working on it,” I mumble, “I’m having the girls over.” 

“I know.” 

‘Then why?” 

“Because I love you.” 

My hair-band snaps out of my hand and nearly pings him in the crotch. 

“Sorry.” 

He chuckles and picks it up, “Would rather have something else of yours there,” he smiles and saunters over to me, “But at this point, I’ll take whatever I can get,” he puts the band  in my hand and kisses my cheek, still a foot away from me. 

I just fucking miss him. 

“What are you doing here?” I ask, turning to the mirror and trying to wrap my hair up again.  Because if I keep looking at him, I’m going to melt. 

“Clark sent me a text that we need to talk,” he shrugs, “And since you’re still my trustee, I thought I would see what you want.” 

What I want.  What I want?  I want him.  I want things that I shouldn’t think about – his hands, his lips, his…

Damn it. 

I sit on my bed and take a breath, “It’s slight, but there may be one more chance for us,” I croak out, feeling awful about it.  I know how remote this is – I really shouldn’t get his hopes up. 

Damn Clark. 

“Anything,” he says softly, crossing the room toward me, “Tell me what it is and I will gladly do it,” he touches my cheek and crouches before me, “I love you, angel.  I love you so much.  You’re all I think about.  All I dream about.  I don’t care what I have to do – I’ll do it.” 

“Actually,” I close my eyes against his caress.  I’ve missed his touch, “As far as I know, you don’t have to do anything.  I do.  But brushing up on your Jamaican and Hebrew might not be a bad idea, just in case.” 

“What?” he chuckles. 

“You know Father Jorge denied your request?” I open my eyes again. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, “Yes.  I got the notice.” 

“Apparently, I have to appeal to a higher power,” I tell him. 

“Oh,” his hand shakes a little against my cheek. 

“Yeah, that’s how I feel about it too.  I can’t do anything for a couple of weeks yet, but I am going to do my best,” I take his hand in mine, “It’s risky – even more than what I’m already doing.  But you’re worth it.”