I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(26)

The black pants he’s wearing look great too, fitting him to a tee. I find no fault anywhere. Damn, his body is a wonderland, meaning I can’t help but wonder what he’d look like unclothed. I’ve heard he has tats and I’m suddenly dying to see them. Wonder if he’d let me touch them.

I’ve obviously completely lost my mind.

Chase is just about done—the lens is fixed—so I avert my gaze and try to pretend I’m searching for something in my purse. He assesses the sunglasses for a few more seconds. As do I. From the corner of my eye I see there’s a bend in one of the arms, maybe from the collision. Chase straightens it back and says something about the sunglasses being nice. Instead of just offering up a simple thank you, I go into a long-winded explanation.

“Thanks. But they’re not really worth anything. They’re not real designer glasses. I bought them at one of those dollar stores.” Chase glances my way and gives me a little smile. “Not the one in town, the one a little north of here. Do you know where I mean? Up by the Agway on seven…” I trail off. God, ramble much.

But Chase doesn’t seem all that bothered by my babbling. He hands me the sunglasses, and they look perfect, like brand new.

“Wow, you fixed them,” I gush, turning them over in my hands. “Amazing, I think they’re actually better than when I bought them. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He smiles, and oh, what a smile. “I’m Chase, by the way.”

We’re kind of hitting it off, flirting a little, even. So I don’t tell him I already know who he is. Why ruin things?

I just say, “Nice to meet you. I’m Kay, Kay Stanton.”

“Kay,” he says my name slowly, and I like the sensual way it sounds coming from his mouth. “Like, short for Kaylee or Kayla?”

“Nope, just Kay.”

“Hmm, I like it,” he says, pressing his lips together and nodding approvingly.

Oh, and I like you.

I think this, but I don’t dare say it. I drop my gaze and lick my lips.

I better think of something to say if I want to keep this conversation going. And I do want to keep it going. I don’t want him leaving just yet, so I blurt out, “Hey, I didn’t see you in church today.”

Chase puts his hands in his pockets, turns up the charm. “I’m flattered you noticed.”

His tone is pure flirtation, making me fidget and tug at the edge of the left sleeve of my sweater. “Yeah, I did. Notice, that is.” A thread pulls loose and I hastily tuck it up under the sleeve, hoping he doesn’t notice. “That you weren’t there, I mean.”

Chase looks down at the pavement, all cute-like, and I can see he’s smiling. Hey, he’s smiling, not running. I see this as a good sign.

Encouraged, I continue, “S-o-o, you’re the guy Father Maridale hired to work on the church and the school, right?”

“I am,” he confirms. And then, after a beat, “Father Maridale is a good man. I owe him a lot.”

“He is,” I agree, nodding. “He truly believes everyone deserves a second chance, no matter what they’ve done in the past.”

I realize what I’ve just said, and so apparently has Chase. His gunmetal blues pierce, eyeing me like he’s just put together that I know exactly who he is. And that I have right from the beginning.

Sure enough, he quietly asks, “You know who I am, don’t you?”

And we both know what he means—I know his past.

I wince, sigh. “Yes, I know who you are.”

“When did you realize?”

Very quietly—eyes downcast—I admit, “I knew right away, Chase. As soon as I looked up and saw it was you I’d wrecked into.”

Neither of us says anything, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I fully expect him to take off, but instead he says softly, “Hey, it’s fine. But can I ask you something, Kay?”

I nod, and dare to open my eyes and glance up. To my surprise, when our gazes meet, I see an emotion I’m all too familiar with—a deep kind of sadness, the kind that reaches into the soul and just kind of burrows there. Chase is lonely, like me. I’m sure of it. And in the recognition that here is someone possibly as sad and alone as I, all sense of pretense on my part crumbles. I’ve obviously misjudged Chase Gartner.

He scrutinizes my face. Does he see in me what I see in him? If he does, he keeps it to himself. What he does say is this: “I know a lot of people in this town expect me to f*ck up again.”

I start to shake my head, deny what he’s saying. But that would be a lie, and we both know it.

“I see the way they look at me,” he continues. “I know what they’re thinking, what they say behind my back.”

I can’t deny what he’s experienced, so I just say, “I’m sure it’s not easy.”

His eyes pin me down, all blue intensity. “So, okay…What about you, Kay? You’re part of this congregation.” He motions to the church behind me. “Do you think I deserve the second chance Father Maridale is giving me? Or do you believe—like everyone else—that he’s wasting his time?” He makes a scoffing sound. “’Cause I’ll surely just screw up again.”

I suddenly feel like crap. Less than an hour ago, I was thinking he might screw things up, mess up again. Did I not question Father Maridale’s judgment? Did I not think Chase needed watching? I did, but I don’t tell him any of these things. What good would it do? And, more importantly, who am I to judge?