A Preacher's Passion by Lutishia Lovely

relieved the afternoon had ended quickly. She was beginning to think that twenty years was too long a gap to take up where two friends had left off. Something had changed about Robin, something more than her hair color and dress size. She’d looked downright crazed when digging for her pills. Passion wondered just what kind of drugs her friend was using.
    She didn’t ponder the question long. Looking at her watch, she noted the day was fairly young and her daughter Onyx was with Passion’s parents. Her focus immediately turned to Lavon, and what he had planned for the evening. He’d been too busy to meet during the week; maybe he’d have some time tonight. Passion sat on the couch, opened her cell phone, and dialed the number already programmed into her speed dial.
    “Hello?” a familiar, deep voice asked.
    “Hey, Lavon, it’s me.”
    There was a slight hesitation before Lavon said, “Hi, me.”
    It was Passion’s turn to pause as she wondered just how many females were ringing Lavon’s number. She knew she wasn’t the only one. No matter; it was too early for her to be possessive and too late for games. “It’s Passion,” she said simply.
    “Passion! Ms. Passion Perfected, how are you?”
    “Better now,” Passion said with a smile. “And better still if I can talk an extremely busy, multitalented director/producer into taking a break and grabbing a bite to eat later on.”
    “We might be able to arrange something like that.” Lavon had dodged Passion all week while hanging with Carla almost twenty-four/seven. During the day, they planned and worked on Kingdom Keys. At night they’d worked on Carla’s kitty and Lavon’s snake. But Stanley had returned from out of town on Friday, bringing in a reality check along with his luggage. Lavon had said he wouldn’t get involved with anyone from Logos Word and what had happened? Not only had he gotten involved, he’d dived headlong, literally, into the feline charms of the first lady.
    The madness had to stop, and maybe this was the diversion to help that happen. “So where are we going, Passion Perfected? I’ve barely eaten all day.”
    Passion masked her giddiness and ignored her pizza-filled stomach. “Hey, why don’t you come over to my place? It’s probably been a while since you’ve had a home-cooked meal.”
    Lavon choked down a guffaw. That’s all he’d eaten was home-cooked food, and some of the best that had ever passed his knowledgeable lips. He felt he’d gained ten pounds. Plus, he wagered cooking wasn’t all Passion had on her mind, that maybe she wanted to try and live up to her name. Unfortunately for Passion, Carla had already taken care of that. The woman was insatiable.
    “Oh, no. A beautiful lady like you,” he said to appease, “needs to be wined, dined, and showed a good time. Let’s get dressed up, go for dinner and dancing. What do you say?”
    What could she say, except yes? Passion hadn’t been romanced in years. “I know just the place,” she said, mentally browsing her closet for the perfect outfit, and thanking her daughter’s grandparents that they’d taken her for the weekend. “Should I pick you up around seven?”
    “I’ve still got a few hours of work to do. Can we make it eight?”
    “Eight sounds perfect. See you then.”
    Several hours later, Lavon and Passion sat contentedly in a booth at the Lobster, a well-known seafood restaurant in Santa Monica. Dinner was good, the conversation, pleasant. Passion learned that Lavon was divorced, with a teenaged daughter from a previous relationship. Along with this knowledge came the facts that he was the oldest of four children, he loved football, his musical tastes ranged from classical to blues, and while he’d enjoyed their upscale fare of jumbo lump crab cakes and marinated Chilean sea bass, his mouth virtually salivated over anything smothered or fried. His love of good, down home cooking was especially pleasing to Passion, who, as a former Georgia