All The Pastor Wants: Bennett Family

By Rhonda McKnight

Rory Bennett is a pastor with deep pockets and a heart of gold. Though he loves his ministry, all he wants for Christmas is for Sweet Delights Bakery owner Robin Pendleton to see him as a man and not just a preacher.

Robin Pendleton has been fighting her attraction to her handsome pastor/long-time friend Rory, but she has hurt, responsibilities, and secrets that make her question if she's worthy of all he has to offer.

Will a meeting under the mistletoe change their lives this holiday season?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rhonda McKnight
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201547011

Rhonda McKnight

Rhonda McKnight is the author of several bestselling novels, including An Inconvenient Friend and What Kind of Fool. She is the winner of the 2015 Emma Award for Inspirational Romance of the Year. She loves reading and writing books that touch the heart of women through complex plots and interesting characters in crisis. Themes of faith, forgiveness, and hope are central to her stories. Originally from a small coastal town in New Jersey, Rhonda writes from the comfort of her South Carolina home. Visit her online at rhondamcknight.com; Instagram: @authorrhondamcknight; Twitter: @rhondamcknight; Facebook: @BooksByRhonda; and Pinterest: @rhondamcknight1.

Book preview

All The Pastor Wants

Rhonda McKnight

Dedication

For my dearest aunt Dorothy Plowden. Thank you for your love and support.

"She opens her mouth with wisdom,

and on her tongue is the law of kindness."

~ Proverbs 31:26 (NKJV)

Acknowledgments

All praise, honor, and glory belong to God for this gift and the fact that I get to use it over and over again to create books that I pray my readers enjoy and are blessed by.

Thank you to my parents, Bessie McKnight and Jimmie McKnight for supporting me in everything I do. Thank you also for putting up with me.

Thank you to my sons, Micah and Aaron and my daughter-in-love, Tamaria for being in my corner. I know you believe in me and that means the world.

Thank you to my author tribe: Sherri Lewis, Tia McCollors, Unoma Nwankwor, Vanessa Riley, Vanessa Miller, Pat Simmons, and Michelle Lindo-Rice – Muah!  

Finally, thank you to one of my readers, Sherrell Burns, for giving me information about Chiari Malformation. When she told me her story, I felt led to do research. After doing research, I found so many people (particularly women and teenagers) suffer from this for years without an accurate diagnosis. I decided I had to use this book to raise awareness of the condition. 

To learn more about Chiari Malformation visit the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Strokes or the American Association of Neurological Surgeons at these websites:

https://www.ninds.nih.gov/Disorders/All-Disorders/Chiari-Malformation-Information-Page

https://www.aans.org/en/Patients/Neurosurgical-Conditions-and-Treatments/Chiari-Malformation

All The Pastor Wants

Chapter 1

Rory Bennett crossed Main Street in Forest Hills, Georgia, with Sweet Delights Bakery in mind. If the late Thomas Kinkade was looking for inspiration to create another canvas of a small town at Christmas, Forest Hills would be the perfect subject. It was a month before Christmas, but in this town, Christmas began the day after Halloween, so all the businesses had long been displaying their best for the season.  

Leaving the chilly winter air outside, Rory stepped into the bakery. The distinctive aroma of brewing coffee and baked sweets mixed with vanilla and cinnamon drifted to his nose. The atmosphere inside the tiny storefront shop warmed him physically and soothed his soul. Like other stores, the bakery was decked out in full holiday regalia. An instrumental version of Someday at Christmas piped through the speakers. Stringed lights decorated the perimeter and festive ornaments filled the corners of the glass cases. A Black Father Christmas and a collection of ceramic Christmas houses lined the back counter. Most prominent among the decorations were the hand-painted nativity set and the lush Christmas tree in the window. Its pine scent intermingled with the food smells and summoned nostalgic emotions in him.

A very wide, cookie-eating Santa Claus occupied the space at the counter. His meaty fingers tapped on the countertop to the rhythmic beat of the music. After a few minutes, Santa said thank you and added a hearty, Ho, Ho, Ho, as he turned and walked past Rory, leaving the scent of Karl Lagerfeld cologne behind him. Rory knew the fragrance. His father wore it for years, claiming it snagged his mother back in high school. Rory chuckled. Santa smelling like a player. He supposed Santa needed love too.

Rory walked to the counter, taking the space vacated by Santa. He caught the top of the back of Robin Pendleton’s head. She was squatting below the counter. After a moment, she popped up and spotted him. Her hand went to her chest.

Oh, Pastor. I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.

Pastor.

It bothered him that he was a character in her life—not much different than Santa. He played a role, and it wasn’t the one he wanted.

How is my favorite baker?

Almond shaped, cola brown eyes met his and his heart leapt. Robin swept her long, black hair off her shoulders. He saw more of her smooth, caramel skin. High cheekbones complimented her pretty nose and plump lips. His heart leapt again.

Robin clasped her hands together on the counter, leaned into it and gave him a welcoming smile. I’m doing well. Busy. I think everybody in town has stopped in here.

Rory removed his leather gloves and put them in his pocket. Busy in business is a blessing.

I have loyal customers. Speaking of which, this is your second time coming in this week. Her tone carried a hint of amusement. It played well with her sweet southern accent. Sometimes he wondered if he was just plain ole in love with her voice.

I’m addicted to sweets.

Well, you must be addicted to the gym too. I’ve put twenty pounds on that Santa, but you seem to metabolize sugar like no one else.

Rory smiled. He knew a compliment when he heard one. I do work out, but I also skip a few meals here and there so I can indulge in my habit. Visiting you.

He inspected the cake offerings under the glass domes. Today’s offerings were strawberry shortcake, carrot, chocolate, key lime, and a pumpkin ginger. At one time or another, he’d tried all of them and loved every bite. They were all different and appealing. I can’t decide. You pick for me.

Robin tapped a finger against her chin. That strawberry shortcake has your name written all over it, but I’ve got something special. I’ll be right back.

Robin rushed through the swinging doors into the backroom. Moments later, an older teenager came out. In both her hands, she carried a load of small containers about the size of facial tissue boxes piled up to her chin.

Rory rushed to take some of the load off her.

Thank you, she said, shyly, focusing on her task of stacking the boxes.

Robin reentered the sales area carrying an opaque cake plate. She stopped short. Pastor, you do not work here.

I need to apply for a job here. I could save a lot of money on my habit. He handed the teen the last two boxes. Then he took a good look at the young lady. He’d seen her before.  

She must have sensed his brief stare. Her eyes finally met his and recognition quickly shone in her eyes. You’re Pastor Bennett. I visited your church last week. She pointed at her chest. My name is Tiana.

Rory smiled. I thought you looked familiar.

Pastor, Tiana is my—

Tiana interrupted Robin. Let me get Mama. She’d love to meet you. She disappeared into the back.

Rory returned his attention to Robin who was putting together a cake box, no doubt for his purchase. I’m glad to see you have some help.

Yes, she’s—

The phone rang and Robin threw up a finger. I’m expecting to hear about my van. She reached into her pocket for her cellphone and took the call. 

The doors swung open. Tiana was wearing a coat now. An older woman followed her from the backroom. They had to be related to Robin. All three of them favored. Same complexion. Same diamond shaped face. Same eyes.

Pastor Bennett. The woman smiled wide and warmly, the same smile. I’m Dinah Pendleton. I’m Robin’s aunt.

Rory shook her hand. I can see the resemblance.

All Pendletons look alike. Her smile widened and got brighter. I was really blessed by your message last week. I didn’t know you were one of Robin’s customers.

Robin and I go way back to our teens. We didn’t attend the same school, but we were in community choir together.

She has a beautiful voice. I keep telling her she should sing.

Robin ended her phone call in time to say, Auntie. Don’t. She gave Dinah a firm look. Pastor Bennett is one of my best customers.

I’m going to take these to the bank, Tiana said, picking up two of the boxes. And since it’s not busy now, can I stop in the library before it closes?

Aunt Dinah and Robin both said yes at the same time. Tiana gave Rory a little wave. It was nice meeting you, Pastor Bennett. She pulled the door open and sailed out.

It was my pleasure too, Aunt Dinah said. I have cookies to get out of the oven. You enjoy that treat Robin has there. She mentioned you when she was making it.

Auntie... Robin warned.

Aunt Dinah shushed her with a wave and went into the backroom.

Family help is some good help.

Robin nodded. True, and Lord knows I’ve been busy. I usually handle it myself through the year, but having four extra hands is going to go a long way, Pastor.

Pastor. There it was again.

Rory almost regretted inviting her to his church. Although she hadn’t joined, she was a regular visitor. She’d gone from calling him Rory to Pastor overnight. Ordinarily, his title would have been okay. He was used to people doing that. But in the case of Robin, he preferred she stick to Rory. He couldn’t seem to get the word pastor out of this woman’s mouth.

Now, Robin said, opening the cover to the cake plate. I think you’ll like this.

Rory’s eyes widened. The cake was blue, a dark shade of cerulean with a mountain of fluffy, white frosting dotted with crystal blue sprinkles. He quirked an eyebrow as he peered closer. All right now. You have my interest.

It’s blue velvet. It’s similar to red, but my recipe has a slightly different taste.

Rory turned up his lips with interest and reached for the fork Robin was holding out to him. He sliced into the cake, scooping a mouthful. French buttercream and fresh blueberry filling exploded in his mouth. Mmm. She was right. It was divine. Do your gifts have any limits?

Robin’s smile was brighter than the overhead lights. I pray not. Who wants an uncreative baker?

Not this town. Rory stuck his fork in again. The second mouthful was better than the first. She handed him a napkin. He wiped his mouth and drew in a satisfied breath. I’m in love. How many slices do you have?

I have what you see.

Which was almost a whole cake. Slice it for me. I’m having a church board meeting tomorrow. I’m going to need to sweeten them up.

Robin’s smile crinkled at the corners of her eyes. Pride radiated from her eyes. Is there any particular way you’d like the slices cut?

Regular size is fine.

Would you like coffee while you wait or hot cider? she asked.

I’ll take the coffee.

Robin poured a cup of coffee from a carafe behind her, added cream like she’d done a hundred times before and handed it to him. Their hands touched briefly, and he caught her eye and held it for a moment. Thank you.

Robin blinked a few times and disappeared through the swinging doors. She returned a few minutes later with a larger takeout box.

So, what are your plans for the holidays? Rory asked.

I may be working. I’ve been advertising some sales so I hope to have more business.

The door opened, cutting off their conversation. Robin looked up and Rory turned.

Robin Pendleton! the woman exclaimed. I was told you owned the bakery.

Rory squinted. The face was familiar, but the name was not until Robin said, Vivian Major. Then he remembered her from church in his teens. Her family had done business with the Bennetts.

Robin walked from around the counter. My goodness, it’s been almost twenty years.

Nineteen, sugah. Don’t add to our ages. She air-kissed at Robin.

Well, you haven’t aged a day.

You are either as sweet as you were in school, or you’ve become a good liar. Vivian’s voice pressed into his memory. It had that high-pitched, Whitley Gilbert quality to it. She was a southern belle through-and-through and if his memory was correct, that included all the good and bad characteristics that came with the designation. He hoped it no longer included the bad. She’d been in ministry for a long time now.

Vivian’s eyes traveled in his direction and her mouth dropped open. Rory Bennett. Oh my goodness. She took a step to him. It’s Pastor Bennett now.

It has been for about four years.

"I was tickled to read about you in Southern Preacher Magazine. I said, ‘Look at Rory Bennett. Who knew you were called?’ She put a familiar hand on his arm. Congratulations on following

Reviews for All The Pastor Wants

[Nichol Williams · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The books by the this author is worth reading. You will laugh, cry and if you aren't in love it may make you want to find it, if it's anything like in these books.