Part 21 (1/2)
She smiled. Point to her. ”I'm going to see you tonight, aren't I?”
”h.e.l.l, yeah, you're going to see me tonight, and every night from here on in.”
Suddenly her heart could fly. ”Good.”
”Hey, Angel?”
”Yes?”
”No matter how much I b.i.t.c.h about it, I really love how you keep my train from getting too far off the tracks, baby. I'm glad you're in my life.”
Fly? No, her heart could soar. ”That goes double for me, my beautiful man.”
A low growl reached her, and more than anything she wished he was there with her now. ”Don't forget, you're spending your break with me instead of Rocket tonight. I've never taken you bent over with that little a.s.s of yours in the air, have I? I'm thinking my table is just the right height for that position.”
Her ability to breathe abruptly vanished. ”There you go again, talking smack about my a.s.s.”
”It's the cutest little a.s.s in the world, little girl. And it's. All. Mine.”
”Yeah, it is.” She bit her lip as the juncture of her thighs heated up so much it was all she could do to keep herself from making an inappropriate sound. ”Don't you forget to leave my keys in my booth.”
”I still need to make a copy of the condo keys.”
She rolled her eyes at his automatic a.s.sumption that he needed keys to her place. Not that she disagreed with him. ”I don't care what you do with them as long as I have them back by closing time tonight.”
”You're a bossy woman, you know that?”
”And I want keys to your house too, now that I think about it. When you're getting copies of mine made, please do me a favor and get a set of yours made as well, okay?”
He laughed, a low, predatory sound. ”Leveling the playing field?”
”If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me, and you're out of your mind if you think I'm playing.” As the taxi pulled up to the house, she dug out a tip for her driver and opened the door. ”I'm here. Enjoy your first in-home tat session.”
”Look around. Do you see my dad or Nick anywhere?”
She did as instructed. ”No, but I'm about ten minutes early.”
”Okay, I'll text them to see what's going on. Be careful about the people you meet today, baby. And call me when you can.”
”Will do.”
As the taxi pulled away, a dark extended cab pickup pulled in to take its place. As she headed toward the cement front stairs, she glanced back when she heard someone call out.
”Excuse me, are you Angel Taylor?” A sixty-something man with a wide face, short curly gray hair and a friendly smile was peering up at her through the lowered window on the pa.s.senger side. ”I'm Walt Hildebrandt. I'm the handyman scheduled to come in and replace a damaged pantry doorframe this morning.”
”Oh. You're early.” She glanced at her phone as a text came through. With a glance she read Twist's message that Nick was stuck in traffic with his entire family in tow, but should be there soon. With a nod, she looked up at the handyman. ”Yes, I'm Angel. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hildebrandt.”
”Please, make it Walt.” With a smile, he climbed out of his truck.
”Thanks. Just to let you know, the doorframe isn't exactly damaged, but it does have to be replaced. There's a growth chart from my childhood on it, and before it gets painted over and sold, my hope is that it can be preserved. Do you think that's possible?”
”I don't see why not.” With a shrug, Walt moved to the truck's tailgate, and as he did, her eyes sharpened at the way he moved. Each step carried a hint of pain with it, a giveaway of a bad case of arthritis somewhere-whether it was the hips, knees or ankles, she couldn't be sure. There was only one thing she was sure about.
He moved as though his feet were made of gla.s.s.
Chapter Twenty-Two.
Twist pulled House Of Payne's custom-built van into the driveway of a smallish but well-maintained Tudor cottage a few blocks from the sh.o.r.es of Lake Michigan, and turned the engine off.
All things considered, the van was a pretty sweet ride with a great sound system, rearview camera, heads-up display, glossy red and black spinner rims that probably wouldn't last the week, and hands-free Bluetooth technology. The exterior had a full vinyl graphic wrap, displaying the House's famous black and gray logo with Payne's first dragon tattoo that went viral as a watermark. The payload of the van was just as awesome, with the back tricked out to be a mobile tattooing booth. There was also portable equipment that could be hauled into a house, such as a folding work station complete with tattooing machine and a rainbow of inks chosen by Payne himself, lighting, a laptop and a wireless transfer printer.
Since today's client had mentioned an in-home preference, Twist already had the necessary gear stowed by the van's rear doors and ready to go. If he was quick about getting through this session, he might be able to drop in on Angel to see how things were going before heading on to the House. Even if she hadn't picked up a G.o.dd.a.m.n creeper who was too much of a coward to come up and confront him head-on, Twist would still be antsy about all the strange people traipsing through her parents' house today.
The more he thought about it, the less he liked the people who raised Angel. They were idiots when it came to taking care of her. For G.o.d's sake, she was a beautiful woman who was obviously all alone, who weighed no more than a hundred pounds or so, and she was being made to handle inspectors, movers and painters all by herself, in a city notorious for its high crime rate, for a house that wasn't even hers.
f.u.c.king.
Idiots.
His jaw tightened as he pocketed the keys of the van and headed to the back. If he ever met her parents, out of courtesy to Angel he would try to be on his best behavior. But he also knew himself very well, and he had no illusions. If anything happened to her, or if they ever stepped a foot out of line when it came to her safety, it wasn't going to be pretty. He had no problem with reading them the riot act for putting their girl in danger by making her deal with their s.h.i.+t.
Thank G.o.d Angel had wised up when she was still a kid in high school, and abandoned that particular s.h.i.+p as soon as she possibly could. It used to worry him that she was clearly alone in the world and left to fend for herself at such a young age. But now he had the whole picture, and he was proud of everything she'd accomplished on her own. She'd had the smarts to recognize that her home life wasn't right for her, so she hadn't f.u.c.ked around in getting out. His lady knew what was good for her and what wasn't.
And she'd chosen him. To support, and to slap back into place when he was going off the rails. She'd chosen him.
G.o.d, she was amazing.
Laptop bag in hand, he rang the bell and waited, then again when nothing happened. After a few minutes he texted Scout to make sure he had the right address and time, then cussed a blue streak under his breath when she texted back with the a.s.surance that he was right where he needed to be.
One more minute of leaning on the doorbell made him come to the inescapable conclusion that he was there, but his client wasn't.
After ten minutes went by, he called Scout. ”We never talked about how long I'm supposed to wait around for the no-shows on this gig,” he said by way of greeting when Scout picked up. ”There's no one here, and I'm not loving the idea of spending the entire allotted time sitting in this guy's driveway.”
”I'd say give it another five before taking off.” She sounded as irritated as he felt, and he could hear how hard she was. .h.i.tting her keyboard as she spoke. ”Man, I just don't get it. Our first concierge gig busted by some loser s.p.a.ce-case who forgot their appointment. Sorry about this, Twist.”
How novel. For once Scout wasn't p.i.s.sed off at him. It was enough to make him smile. ”No worries on my end. These guys pay in advance because of this very possibility, so for the next three hours I'm getting paid to do nothing.”
”Lucky you. Maybe you and Angel can figure out how to spend that free time of yours.”
”Now there's an idea.” There was nothing in the world he'd like better, G.o.d knew. And steering clear of her had been a total bust, since she'd accurately pointed out that backing off to keep her safe had actually left her alone and vulnerable. If anything, he should count his d.a.m.n blessings that nothing had happened to her while he'd been stuck in stupid-mode, thinking that the only thing he'd brought to Angel's door was trouble. Whether or not he was at fault for her being hara.s.sed, whether or not an ex-con like him was good enough for her-that was all just irrelevant s.h.i.+t. The only thing that mattered now was that he made Angel's life as safe for her as possible.
And if he had to spend every single second in her company in order to do that, he could think of worse things.
”Scout, Angel's back today working full-time, right?”
”Yep, and she's got a full slate, plus I'm going to make her spend some time on my rainbow ankle wrap, so don't get any bright ideas about sneaking off for some workplace hanky-panky.”