For Such a Time
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Veronica Miller is grateful for a temporary teaching position at the local Catholic school. Perhaps her new job will take her mind off her ex-husband’s betrayal and distract her from the pain of divorce. When she meets Father Francis Xavier, however, she wonders if she’s about to hurt herself again by falling for a man who is forbidden to her. To complicate matters further, she discovers her ex-husband and his very pregnant bride have moved in around the corner.
Father Francis is far from his home in India, an interim priest who knows no one. He becomes a welcome, calming friend who seems to appreciate Veronica’s help with difficult situations with families in the parish. Can Veronica help it if she finds herself wanting to spend more and more time with him? Thankfully he will be gone soon, hopefully before Veronica’s feelings for him overtake her good sense.
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For Such a Time - Ellen Gillette
For Such a Time
by Ellen Gillette
For Such a Time by Ellen Gillette
Copyright © 2021. All rights reserved.
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Published by Pen It! Publications, LLC in the U.S.A.
812-371-4128
www.penitpublications.com
ISBN: 978-1-63984-012-0
Edited by Marla Williams VanHoy
Cover Design by Donna Cook
Note from the Author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. While some locations are real, others are made up. Resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental, but the author sincerely hopes that all of us learn to trust God with every detail of our lives, including love.
Table Description automatically generatedPrologue
The dancer twirled her slender, athletic body around the pole, glancing around the room as she seductively writhed to the pounding rhythm of the music. Arching her back against the pole so that her head was almost touching the floor, she bent first one knee, then the next, pointing her high heels so her calf muscles would look their best.
It was dark inside the Miami nightclub, but she could tell that many of the men in the crowd were in uniform. This close to a Marine base, it was no wonder. Good tippers, too.
The young beauty had been dancing for several months now, making more money than she'd ever thought possible. College textbooks were expensive; so was rent, especially now that she was living on her own, no roommates. Exotic dancing wasn't the ideal job, but as long as she kept the guys at a distance and the bouncers earned their money, it wasn't too bad.
She had become adept at shutting everyone and everything out as she danced, focusing only on the music and her moves. Tonight, however, she decided to put forth more of an effort. She'd once dreamed of joining the military herself. These guys risked everything. They deserved her best.
A handsome Marine sitting at a table near the stage raised his glass in a toast to her. Show time. Obligingly, she lowered herself from the pole and crawled provocatively on all fours in his direction, purposefully stopping now and then as a tease. When he signaled for her to sit up, she obliged. Grinning, he stood and pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, holding it up, the carrot to her donkey, she supposed, so she'd come closer. A twenty's a twenty, she thought. His loss, my gain.
Advancing forward on her knees, her eyes locked with his, and she was surprised to find something besides animal lust. She pursed her lips together in a pouty air kiss as she neared the stage's edge. With only her black thong and a tiny bra top to work with, there weren't many places for him to stick the bill, but he tucked it just off center in her thong.
What time do you get off?
he asked loudly, so she could hear over the music.
White line on his ring finger, so recently divorced? Out for some excitement now that he's free again? She had a rule about dating customers, but this one seemed different. Between work and studying, she didn't have much of a social life. Are you just making excuses because you're lonely? She looked at him more intently. He was a Marine, for heaven's sake. Weren't they all about noble duty and all that? What did she have to lose? Anchors, aweigh!
The dancer arched her back, rose up into an impressive back bend as if she had no spine, then stood, striking a sexy pose. Winking at him, she turned her back on him, knowing he'd be staring hungrily at her long curly hair, naked back, tight bottom and long legs ending in spike heels. The next moment, she bent over right in front of him, looking bewitchingly at him from between her legs.
He stepped as close to the stage as he could. Is that a yes?
he shouted.
The dancer shook her head, teasing him. He's certainly handsome, she thought. And not a new recruit. She'd been around military men long enough to recognize rank. He's got some time in, knows his way around. A little older, but not daddy old.
Full speed ahead! You might have to punish me, Sarge. Do I need a spanking?
She was surprised when he blushed under the harsh bright lights of the stage. Not into that stuff, okay. A man who can still blush in a strip club? Such a long time since I had a date. In one movement, she whipped around and leaned her mouth close to his ear. I'm off at two,
she said. Meet me outside.
****
Sgt. Mark Miller looked over at the sleeping figure beside him on the bed. How many times does this make it? How many times have I cheated? He couldn't stop. He would cheat on his wife Veronica, loathe himself after, tell himself it was the last time, go home to her as if nothing was wrong, and then it would happen again.
It had apparently never occurred to her that he would break his vows. She never questioned him. He almost wished she would, not that he was likely to tell the truth. Maybe she doesn't think enough of me to believe another woman would be interested.
Damn her and her empty womb. Mark wanted a child so badly. Coming up with big brothers and sisters had made for a grand childhood. For as long as he could remember, the need for passing on the family name had been drilled into him. The fact that Veronica had wanted children, too, was one of the things that had drawn him to her.
They'd married too young, he supposed. He'd probably pushed her too fast, but she was stubbornly virginal, religious in her own way. The only way to bed her was to marry her. He'd taken it for granted that children would be the reward for his newfound self-control. His temporary self-control, as it turned out.
Mark thought back to his first sexual encounter. His oldest sister's best friend had sought him out. What an ego booster that had been. He was thirteen; she was twenty. His buddies had been beside themselves with jealousy when he bragged to them. Today, she'd likely be arrested.
After that, there had been no stopping the constant search for arousal and gratification. He'd have sex with any girl who let him, anywhere. He had stashes of pornography in his room for in between. He had a reputation for keeping things quiet, though, and he was always careful to wear protection. Women, whatever their age, liked that. He never let on how much it irked him. He wanted to get someone pregnant. He just hadn't found the right girl yet.
With Veronica, he thought he had. A civilian, she was delivering a florist's order to the base when he jogged over to open the door for her. Her sweet smile of gratitude and expressive hazel eyes immediately made him want more. As he watched her hips sway as she walked away, he was sure he'd found his next conquest.
Veronica had thought differently, but her refusal to date him only fueled greater desire. Finally, he'd thought, a good girl to make babies with. Eventually she agreed to let him join her at church, after which she agreed to have lunch with him. He could hardly make it through the service, not only because of the sexual excitement he had to keep at bey, but also because of all the commotion. The clapping and singing! So different from the quiet reverence of the masses he'd grown up with—and grown away from.
Looking around the church, glancing over at her lovely face, he had decided it was worth it. Her defenses would be down. He'd bet a buddy he'd get to first base on the first date, for sure, maybe further. Before long, Veronica would be so into him that he'd ask her to marry him and start a family right away.
The day hadn't gone as planned. He'd met her parents at church. When he kissed her mother's hand and gave her a little bow, he could tell she was charmed. And when her father learned that Mark planned to be a career Marine, he was obviously pleased. Veronica, however, had sent out none of the come and get me
vibes he'd grown to expect from women.
Several months of cold showers and platonic dates later, Mark and Veronica had sex for the first time—on their wedding night. No more need for protection! That in itself was cause for celebration as far as Mark was concerned. By all appearances, Veronica was the perfect wife. Compliant. Willing. They'd have a baby in no time.
Or not. There were a few false alarms when her period was late for one reason or another, but it was soon apparent that pregnancy was not a given.
Veronica had suggested prayer while Mark had demanded more frequent sex. She never refused him, but when she tried to tell him she needed more than sex, she needed intimacy, he had brushed her off and criticized the "Cosmo bull" she'd been reading. Over the years, she began answering him with more sarcasm than sweetness. They were nothing more than glorified roommates now.
The woman next to Mark stirred in her sleep. She was years younger than Veronica. For a brief moment, he wondered what Veronica would think of him even going to a strip club, much less bringing a dancer home. She had her chance.
A baby would have fixed everything, he fumed. Maybe his cheating was him subconsciously punishing her. Stupid, if so since she didn't even know about it. Maybe she had lacked the ability keep up with the pattern he'd begun long before he met her. A man has needs too, he told himself. Maybe he should talk to someone. His friend Chip, a chaplain, kept nagging him. Naaah.
Lying beside the sleeping woman—girl, really—from the strip club, Mark blew out a breath. Things had heated up quickly between them. He didn't remember ever hitting it off with a woman so fast. He saw women as objects to conquer, for the most part, but this one was different. He expected a dancer to be tougher, jaded. She was asking for it up there on the stage, wasn't she? But she was so petite, he felt an urge to protect her. Some jarhead had made a rude comment as they left the club, and it was all he could do not to punch the guy out.
She'd stopped him, although she made it clear she appreciated the gesture. She surprised him with a long, wet kiss that made it clear what was on her mind. Mark wondered briefly if he'd been her conquest for the night, instead of the other way around. Her apartment was close, so they'd walked there, stopping to kiss passionately along the way. He'd seen her practically naked on stage, but having his hands on her clothes was an incredible turn on.
Mark couldn't remember a woman who was so entirely in sync with him from the start, as hungry for him as he was for her. It dawned on him now that it could have all been a play, a con. He'd never paid for sex, but maybe she'd present him with a bill. A real pro. What does it matter? I'll probably never see her again. That was one of his personal rules. Get in, get out. Never long enough to get attached.
Mark groaned suddenly, spotting his pants draped over a chair in the corner of her bedroom. Inside his pants pocket was his wallet. Inside his wallet was a condom.
The condom that, in their frantic and passionate fumbling, he had completely forgotten about until now.
Chapter One
Barely Coping
When Veronica Miller was asked to take over the second grade class at St. Michael's School, the timing could not have been better. After her husband of five years, a Marine, had decided that his life motto was anything but Semper Fi, she had decided that hers was anything but Till Death Do Us Part. She had, however, briefly considered his demise a viable option. Minutes later, envisioning her place on the set of Snapped, she reconsidered.
As she got ready for work, Veronica let her thoughts wander. She'd moved back to her hometown, leaving Mark to sort things out with the divorce. Living off base in Miami, he had been enough of an absentee husband, whether deployed or at home, that she didn't really miss his company around the apartment. Things had gotten so tense; she actually preferred his absence. She did, however, miss his salary.
Mark hadn't allowed her to work when they got married. He was a handsome man in uniform who had charmed both Veronica and her family. Even her mother had encouraged her to marry quickly. This one won't stay single for long,
she'd warned. Veronica's childhood dreams of a big wedding had evaporated. He was marrying a non-Catholic and there were hoops to jump through. Keeping things small, while expedited as quickly as possible, would make the jumping easier. It was the first of many accommodations on her part.
Maybe if they'd had children. That had been a sore subject from the start. Then later, a moot issue. Hard to get pregnant when you're not having sex. They should have gone to counseling. Lord knows she'd begged him to go. And, too, she had to admit, she had developed a nasty habit of snapping at him out of hurt, which hadn't helped matters. Neither had his stubborn refusal to give up porn. He didn't want to be with her, obviously, which hurt, so she'd pushed him even further away. It had been a destructive cycle, a kind of relief when it was finally over.
Since moving into an apartment complex here, Veronica had filled in a few times as a substitute teacher at St. Michael's, recommended by a friend from high school who now taught music there, but it had been inconsistent. Mark sent a portion of his last few paychecks, which helped. She had also gratefully accepted a generous gift from Mark's embarrassed and disappointed parents that had kept her afloat—no pun intended. Now, however, she would know every day where she was working. She had a regular paycheck, at least until they hired someone else. Maybe she could even finish up the school year there.
Brushing her shoulder-length light brown hair in front of the bathroom mirror, she made a face at her reflection. I guess you're an old maid schoolmarm now,
she said with a sigh. She pulled her hair up into