Part 8 (1/2)

”It's beautiful.” Angel's voice is filled with awe as I open the pa.s.senger door for her. Before she can get in, I put out a hand to stop her.

”Not half as beautiful as you are.”

Her cheeks color, and I'm not sure if it's from the cold or my compliment. Around here, she's going to have to get used to both.

”Can I kiss you, Angel?”

Several heartbeats pa.s.s before a small smile plays at the corner of her lips, and she nods.

I dip my head, lightly pressing my mouth to hers. Her lips are soft and yielding, and I pause, savoring her taste, nibbling lightly before pressing my tongue against her lips until she parts them, encouraging me to deepen the kiss with the way she digs the tips of her fingers into my shoulders, pulling me to her. We're going to be all right.

I'm sorely tempted to put her up against the truck and press my length to her so she'll know how badly I want her, but she s.h.i.+vers, and I pull away. We're both breathless as I tell her to go ahead and get in the truck.

”Did you ask your mom to come?” She's guarded again, like she doesn't want to cross a line, or maybe it's just her anger returning. Either way, I hate that she might feel like she has to tiptoe around anything with me. I make a resolution to be less cranky when she brings up my mom.

”No. She called while I was following the ambulance, and came to make sure we were both all right.” Mom poked her head in to Angel's room before we left and wished us well, saying she'd call me tomorrow.

I might even answer. Maybe.

Chapter Fifteen.

a-aa- I've got a tray held carefully in both hands, overloaded with an iced coffee, a regular coffee, a Sprite, crackers, a piece of toast, and a sorry excuse for an omelet that might as well be scrambled eggs. I attempt to open our bedroom door with my hip, being careful not to spill anything. I know what my girl likes, but I'm not sure what she needs, so I tried to cover all my bases.

Angel's asleep in the same position she was in when I crawled out of bed an hour ago: on her side, with her knees drawn up slightly, one of her hands tucked under the pillow while her dark halo of hair fans out around her.

Depositing the tray on her nightstand, I perch on the edge of the bed beside her. This feels familiar, and the s.p.a.ce beneath my ribs tightens, filled to overflowing with love for her. It's so strong I can barely breathe. The night she showed up on my doorstep, I brought food up from the bar in the wee hours of the morning and she awoke terrified, nearly flitting away like a startled bird. I sat there and watched her that night for a few minutes before I woke her up, just staring at my heart, realizing it somehow existed outside of my body, in the safekeeping of a girl I'd just laid eyes on for the first time. And she still holds it. Nothing has changed, except she's grown stronger and more confident. She's blossoming every day. That's not to say the darkness has left heraI'm not sure it truly ever willabut it no longer consumes her.

I touch her shoulder lightly to wake her, and smile inwardly when she doesn't jump or startle. Instead she glares at me from beneath thick lashes and hooded eyes. ”What'dya want?” she mumbles, not bothering to lift her head from the pillow.

”It's breakfast time.”

”Later.” She closes her eyes.

I feel bad waking her, and I don't blame her for being cranky. I've woken her with some excuse or another every few hours all night long. The discharge papers said that it was fine for her to sleep, contrary to popular belief about concussions, but I just have to know she's okay. Now that the adrenaline has faded, the fear of her being taken from me has settled in. I'm trying to quell my crazy, but it's an uphill battle in reverse.

”Don't make me fight dirty.” My fingers ease under the covers, finding the curve of her waist, then begin skimming across her flesh to cup her a.s.s. She shoves me away, c.o.c.king one eye open. But I see the ghost of a smile, so I flash her a teasing grin. ”Okay, fine. I brought coffee.”

She rolls her eyes, both of them open now. ”Well, why didn't you say so?” Her hand covers her mouth as she fails to suppress a yawn. Once she's s.h.i.+fted herself upright against the pillows piled in front of the headboard, she reaches for the tray. Her hand freezes in midair. ”Iced coffee and coffee-coffee?” One eyebrow lifts in mild amus.e.m.e.nt.

I shrug. ”I didn't know which you'd be in the mood for.” She usually drinks a steaming hot cup of coffee first thing every morning, and then iced coffee throughout the day, but sometimes she goes right for the iced stuff.

”And the Sprite?”

”I thought your stomach might be upset from the meds.” The doctors gave her some mild painkillers, saying she'd likely be pretty sore.

”Okay, one last question.” She gives me a somber look.

”What's that?”

”What the h.e.l.l did those eggs ever do to you?” Her seriousness dissolves into a face-splitting grin, and then she's shaking in a futile attempt not to laugh.

Seeing her so relaxedaeven at my expenseaeases something inside me, and I breathe a little more freely. She's really okay. My Angel is going to be fine, and so are we. We're going to weather this storm and come out stronger on the other side.

”Haven't you ever had a scramlet before?”

”Is that a Philly thing, or an Axel thing?”

”It's a eat it and shush thing.” She's giving me s.h.i.+t, and I love every minute of it. I don't think I've ever cooked for her before, and the mangled omelet is a perfect example of why.

My phone rings in my pocket, and I pull it out, intending to silence it.

”Answer it. Then you can talk and I can eat my scramlet without you breathing down my neck. Unless it's Eva, in which case I'll answer it.” I'm about to protest, but Angel gives me the look. The one that says ado what you're told if you know what's good for you.' It's my mom, not Eva, so I guess I'm going to answer. Both women are thorns in my side, and both are topics Angel and I clearly need to discuss. I don't think either conversation is going to be pleasant.

”h.e.l.lo?” I press the phone to my ear. ”I'll be right back, then. Stay in bed,” I mouth to Angel.

I slip out of the bedroom as Molly slips into it. She jumps onto the bed and settles down by Angel's side, so I know she's in good hands. I'm also relatively sure the dog is going to eat more of the breakfast I made than Angel will.

”Is this a bad time?” Mom's voice is tentative.

I nearly snap that any time is a bad time after eighteen years of radio silence, but I know it's important to Angel that I make an effort with my mom. ”It's fine,” I lie through my teeth.

”Right. Well, the reason I was calling is because I'm going to be in town for another day or two, and I was wondering if you'd want to maybe have lunch?”

She sounds so hopeful that I can't help but feel tempted to say yes. I open my mouth, but the words don't come. I just cannot bring myself to agree.

I must be silent for too long. ”It's fine if you're not ready. Lord knows I made you wait long enough. If you change your mind, I'll be in town until Thursday afternoon.”

That's sort of weird. Ware comes back into town on Friday, but Mom leaves on Thursday? I wonder why they didn't at least come together. As far as I know, they went home Friday night, but now she's back. Something is wonky. ”How come you're in town?”

”Because you're here, Axel. If you decide to give me a chance, I want to be close.”

Her admission hits me like a punch to the gut. After all this time, why make an effort now? I hear Angel up and moving around in the other room. Dammit, I told her to stay in bed. From what I read about concussions, she might get dizzy, and she could fall and hurt herself. ”Mom. I've got to go.”

Rescued by Angel, again. I wonder if that girl knows she saves me every d.a.m.n day.

I'm not surprised to find Angel dressed when I return to the bedroom. ”Glad to see you listen well.”

She ignores me. ”So, now that breakfast is out of the way, tell me about Eva.”

Chapter Sixteen.