Free Guilty Pleasures by Bertrice Small Page B

she said. God, he really was good-looking. He was wearing a pair of khaki chinos and a blue windowpane-checked shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. Nina stepped out of the house. “I’m not certain I’m hungry after last night’s wonderful dinner at the inn,” she said.
    “We could go to mass first, then,” he said. “Is there a nine thirty?” The blue eyes swept over her. Damn, she was one pretty woman! The strawberry blond hair, the warm brown eyes, and that trim figure. He was surprised to feel his dick twitch with interest.
    “Yes, there’s a nine thirty,” Nina answered him. “Are you a Catholic?”
    “I used to be,” he told her. “I’m a little bit lapsed.”
    “Everyone, or almost everyone, goes to church in a small town. It’s not just the religion—there’s a social aspect to it as well,” Nina explained. “It’s how you make friends and contacts.”
    “Let’s go, then,” he said, escorting her to his car, which was parked at her curb.
    Nina was surprised to see the vehicle he drove was a Chrysler PT Cruiser. “I thought you’d have more elegant transportation,” she said as she got in.
    He laughed. “I bought this when they first came out. It’s not the kind of car anyone wants to steal. I garage it, but those fancy cars have been known to disappear from even the best garages in the best neighborhoods. I go for my car, and I know it’s going to be there.”
    “A practical man,” she replied, fastening her seat belt. “Take a left at the corner. St. Anne’s is just three blocks down. I usually walk it, but since we’re going to eat afterward, it’s good to have the car right there. You’ll see the church parking lot.”
    Robert Talcott thought the church charming. It looked like something out of an English village. The stained-glass windows were very old, their colors rich, each portraying a moment in St. Anne’s life as imagined by the artist. The brief mass was conducted by an elderly priest Nina introduced afterward as Father Sullivan. She explained to him that Mr. Talcott would be moving to Egret Pointe eventually.
    “Then we’ll expect to see you regularly,” the old man said. “You appear to be at an age where you’ll be wanting to begin making your peace with God.”
    Nina swallowed a giggle as Bob manfully agreed.
    “Your priest doesn’t mince words, does he?” her escort said as he helped her back into the waiting car.
    “He’s really a dear man,” Nina said, defending Father Sullivan. “I have no idea what possessed him to say such a thing.”
    “He’s got a sharp eye. He saw I didn’t come up for the host,” Bob replied.
    “Turn left out of the parking lot,” Nina directed him. “Then right at the next corner onto Main Street. The luncheonette is on the right, and if we’re lucky, we’ll get a parking space right in front.” They were.
    Inside, they had to wait a few minutes for a table. He was surprised, and remarked it was just like trying to get a table at a trendy restaurant in the city or Hollywood. They were finally seated in a comfortable booth.
    “Coffee?” the waitress asked, slapping down two menus in front of them.
    “Tea and a large cranberry juice for me,” Nina said.
    “Coffee,” Bob said.
    The waitress hurried off.
    “What’s good?” he asked Nina.
    “Blueberry pancakes,” she answered. “With sausage.”
    “Done!” he told her, and when the waitress returned, he ordered for them both.
    “I’m curious,” Nina said, “and it’s really none of my business, but I’m so surprised your wife could just let you come east alone. You were married to Sallie Blair, weren’t you? She’s a fantastic actress.”
    “She is, isn’t she?” he agreed. “The studio wanted us to marry,” he explained. “My first wife and I met at a cattle call. That’s when a show puts out a casting call, and every young actor and actress in town comes. It was fun. It was the seventies. We were still old-fashioned enough to get