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“Father?”
“Yes?”
“I think you might be mistaken.”
“About what, Miss Donahue?”
“Well, you said fiancé?”
He sips his coffee.
“Oh. Did I say fiancé?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Hmm.”
“Father Peter.”
He smiles into his mug.
The smile of a man entirely too pleased with himself.
“Well, I suppose I must have heard it somewhere that you and that fine young man were getting married.”
“Married?”
What the who now?
I think I might actually die on the spot.
“These things do happen, Miss Donahue.”
I’m gaping at the priest—my boss, actually—because what parallel universe did I just walk into?
No.
No way.
This is so not good.
“Um, actually, these things do not just happen. Not to me, Father,” I scramble to explain.
“I think you will find miracles—and let’s face it, love is a miracle—actually do tend to occur around Catholic schools. And I do believe, Miss Donahue, you may be experiencing your own little miracle right now. But best save the announcement for when your young man is here to celebrate with you, eh?”
I stare.
My heart is pounding, pulse is racing—and I might actually faint.
Did he say love?
Is that even possible?
Do I love Kai?
No. Absolutely not.
This is just a little fun—right?
