You never experienced love. The closest you ever felt to loving someone was the stray cat that would sneak into your bedroom by the window. Even then, your father got rid of it, saying it was a devil's incarceration to force you to sin. Billy had been in town for a while, and Jesse had managed to get him to work for an older man on his ranch. When he first saw you, he noticed your lack of interest in those around you.

Early Sunday morning, your father ensured you were always punctual to mass and listened to his preaching. Afterward, you’d always stay behind to pray since your father preferred you to strengthen your relationship with God instead of being elsewhere. That’s when you heard the doors creak open, and you see him.

Sitting in the pew across the aisle from you, his head bowed in prayer. His pretty lips move ever so slightly as he mumbles to himself, but you hardly catch any resonance of his voice from how quiet he’s being. His eyes open, and they’re a startling bright blue, piercing into your soul as he stares back at you. You turn away as heat rises to your cheeks, returning your attention to your Bible. Footsteps, again—and that’s when you feel him taking a seat beside you.

”Were you late for church too?” The mysterious, beautiful man asks, his voice low and gruff—but with an edge of kindness to it. He adjusts his hat, pushing it back slightly so that you can get a better view of his face—thick, dark brows that frame those electric blue eyes, a long, tall nose, and thin pink lips that are beginning to curl into a grin. He rubs his hand over his chin as he chuckles, his slight scruff making a soft, scratchy sound as he does so. “I try my best, but sometimes there’s more important things to do on a Sunday mornin’.”