Forever My Angel Part 12

My chest is lighter as soon as I get the words out, and I know I've chosen right.

Mom is smiling at me, pride bright in her eyes. "You're wise beyond your years, Axel."

Maybe. Or maybe I just don't know when to get out of my own d.a.m.n way. Time will tell.

Fortunately, Angel starts chatting with my mother about wedding plans, and I tune them both out. I want to marry Angel, and I want our close family and friends to be there. Beyond that, I don't care about the color of the bridesmaid dresses, or the types of flowers she picks, as long as she gets whatever she wants.

My father, on the other hand, is determined that it be a grand affair, worthy of the Chadwell name, and Chelsea is more than willing to help make sure everything is over the top. Why should anyone care what we want for our own wedding?

Chapter Twenty-Three.

a-aa- Angel slams the townhouse door behind her as she returns from a gown fitting with the girls the next day. "I quit!"

Molly barks in surprise, then scurries to Angel's side. She stands on her hind legs to paw at Angel's leg until Angel scoops her up and buries her tear-stained face in Molly's soft fur.

I lift a questioning eyebrow, but stay seated at the table, going over the property contract Eva faxed me. Everything looks in order, and we should be able to go to closing right after we get back from our honeymoon. "You quit what?" I'm expecting her to say the cold weather, or something silly.

"The wedding. Can't we just go to Vegas?" She sinks into a nearby armchair and draws her knees up to her chest, Molly squished into the seat right beside her. Molly turns her head, using Angel's legs as a pillow, and Angel softly strokes her fur.

Well, at least she wants to quit the wedding, not the marriage. "Why don't you tell me what happened?" I'm trying to take her seriously and not make things worse, but her petulant look is adorable.

"I can't find a dress. Everything I try on is crazy elaborate, and crazy expensive, and crazy not me. I ask them to bring me something simple, and it's like I'm speaking Greek. They don't listen. It's like they just want to get me the most expensive, fancy designer dresses, no matter what I actually want."

I nod in agreement. That's a common problem; when people know you have money to spend, they want to make sure you spend it with them. "Do you want me to make a call?"

"No," she snaps, her eyes flashing. "I don't want you fixing everything for me before we even get married. I want them to listen to me. You know, the bride?"

"What did Chelsea say?"

"She said if we had more time one of the designers could create anything I wanted, but we don't. And she said that because you're a Chadwell, people are going to want to know who I was wearing, and that it's a big f.u.c.king deal. If this is what it is to be a Chadwell, maybe I don't want to be one."

She has her head turned to the side and won't look at me, but I can see the tears threatening to spill over. Slowly, I cross the room to crouch next to her. "Go dry your eyes, then get your coat."

"Huh?"

"We're going to go fix this together. Not me fixing it for you, but us rising to a challenge together as a couple, just like we're going to do with everything for the rest of our lives. Okay?"

At last, I get a tiny smile. "Okay."

"Where are we going?" she asks once we're in my truck.

I just smile. "What did you think of the wedding planner Vanessa sent over?"

I glance over, and Angel's wrinkling her nose.

"We can fire her if you want."

"No, it's fine."

"Okay. Just remember, you're in charge. Not Vanessa, Chelsea, or my father."

"Are Vanessa and your dad working things out?"

My lips thin into a frown. "I hope not. And I don't think so."

"But what about Chelsea? Won't she be devastated?"

"I'm going to talk to Dad about that, and I'll make sure he makes it abundantly clear to Chelsea that he considers her his daughter no matter what."

"That could make things complicated for her and Ware."

I have to try extremely hard to curb my temper. "There is not going to be any her and Ware."

Angel is silent. I wish I could tell her what I know. It's not that I don't like him, but that I don't want Chelsea tied into his situation. It's not my secret to tell, though.

"Did the girls pick bridesmaid dresses?"

She sighs, and I'm not sure if it's still about Ware, or about the dresses. "Yeah."

"But?"

"I'm not sure that they're right. I mean, they're wearing them, so..."

"If you don't like them, we'll find other ones."

"I did find a picture of a cake I like online."

"Good. Pick a bakery you like, or one the wedding planner suggests, and tell them to make it or you'll find someone else who can. We can go taste flavors if necessary."

We pull into a large shopping complex, stopping in front of a David's Bridal.

"Here?" Angel gets an excited gleam in her eye.

"Yeah. If the specialty boutiques don't want our business and are too high and mighty for their own good, I'm sure David's will be more than happy to help out."

We walk in hand in hand and are instantly greeted by a smiling saleswoman in cherry-red lipstick. Her tightly coiffed hair is grey with age, but her eyes are sharp with a wisdom that instantly puts Angel at ease. "How can I help you?" Her name badge says aKatie.'

"My fiancee needs a dress." I smile. "And I'd like to look at tuxes. Please."

"Of course. Have you picked a date yet?"

"We'd just like to look right now, before discussing details." I'm not going to let them pigeonhole us into anything based on the quickly approaching date. Angel can pick what she wants, then I'll pull out the plastic and make what she wants happen.

"As you wish, sir. Why don't you take a seat over in our gentleman's lounge? Someone will be right over with a tux catalog. Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Just make her happy." I give Angel a warm smile before wandering away.

Two hours later, I've picked out tuxedos for myself and my groomsmen, and I'm waiting in a comfortable chair, goofing off on my phone. Angel comes bounding out of a dressing room with an enormous grin. "Found it," she happily declares. "And it doesn't even need any alterations. It's perfect!"

"Like you." I stand from my plush armchair and kiss her forehead. "I got tuxes taken care of, too. Did you want to look at bridesmaid dresses while we're here?"

She blushes. "I already did. But I was thinking, what are your thoughts on asking Johanna, my friend from Tucson, to be a third bridesmaid? Do you think you can find a third groomsman to keep things even?" She's already asked Chelsea and Lexi, and I've asked Kevin and Dougie. I can see she really wants this, so of course I agree.

I try to force a smile, and surprisingly find it isn't too hard. "I'll ask Ware."

Chapter Twenty-Four.

a-aa- Why did I tell Angel I would ask Ware to be one of my groomsmen? The answer is easyait's my mission to make her smile like she's the happiest girl in the world every day for the rest of our lives. If that means buying a ninety-nine dollar wedding gown, or taking her on a twenty-thousand dollar vacation, or having dinner with my mother, or making nice with my brother, I'll do it. Every d.a.m.n day. And I'll feel like the luckiest son of a b.i.t.c.h alive just for the privilege. Because she's it for me, and if she's not happy, neither am I.

So I will do it. But that doesn't mean I have to look forward to it. If I thought it was an option, I'd put it off until the last minute. But he's going to need to go in and get fitted for his tux, and maybe he'll need to arrange someone to watch Lily, since Mom will also be at the wedding. So I need to get this over with.

I glance down at my watch. He should be arriving for his shift at the bar any minute, if he isn't already here. As if summoned by my thoughts, I hear the chime of the front door opening. We aren't open for customers yet, and River never seems to be early. Chelsea is already here, and Denise and Carla are off tonight. Vince has been here for nearly an hour doing prep work in the kitchen, so I'd be willing to bet that's Ware arriving.

Steeling myself to be rejected, I head out to the front of the bar.

I've already got my question for him waiting on the tip of my tongue, but when I come through the swinging door of the kitchen the sight that greets me freezes my feet in place and chases all pleasantries from my head.

Chelsea is nearly on her tiptoes, with Ware's arms around her waist, holding her in an intimate embrace. He's kissing her like she's the air he needs to breathe, like kissing her is ensuring his survival; rather than his doom, because seeing this makes me want to kill him.

"Chelsea!"

She goes perfectly still, but doesn't turn to face me. Ware's gaze meets my icy one over her shoulder. His expression is pleading with me, begging me not to have a meltdown. "Don't do this," he says.

I trusted this son of a b.i.t.c.h to look out for her, gave him the job of protecting the second most important person in the world to me. He's supposed to keep her out of trouble, not cause it! I bet he hasn't even told her that he has a child! He's going to get his money from our father, and then he'll be gone, leaving her heartbroken in his wake. And the way he's touching her is so intimate, it's like he knows every curve of her body. I can't handle this. "This is not what I meant by keeping a f.u.c.king eye on her. Eyes, not hands. Eyes!"

Chelsea pushes away from Ware, and I manage to suck in a much-needed breath, trying to get my racing heart to slow. Then she takes him by the hand, and my chest constricts again. "Axel," she says quietly. "This is not your choice."

I've got to tell her that there's things she doesn't know, Ware's feelings be d.a.m.ned. Then she'll understand why I'm acting this way. "Buta"

"No." She's using her don't-f.u.c.k-with-me voice, and before I can say a word she plunges a verbal knife into my chest and twists it. "When you fell in love with the girl you'd just truly met for the first time, who supported you?"

"That's not fair."

"Who?"

"It's different, dammit!" She was supporting me, watching out for me, just like I'm trying to do for her now.

"You're right. Because you needed me to keep you from doing something stupid, from s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g it up with Tess. And I helped you secretly move to the farm to be close to her, because I could see what she meant to you. Even though I thought it was crazy to be so wrapped up in someone you barely knew, I trusted you and I helped you. Now I'm asking you to trust me. I don't know what's between me and Ware. I have zero clue where this is going to go, but I know if I don't explore it, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

It's going nowhere, and I know that. I try to catch Ware's eye, to somehow communicate to him that I know, and Chelsea needs to, but he's too busy staring open-mouthed at my sister. I sigh. "I don't like it."

"You don't have to."

I stare at her, feeling my heart twist in agony. She's about to get hurt, and I can't stop it. If I tell her Ware's secret now, she'll blame me and just push me away. I can't lose her, but I can't give them my blessing either. "I'm sorry, Chel. I just can't deal with this right now."

I turn and head out the side door, letting the cold evening air numb my churning insides. I need to get away from here.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

a-aa- I'm not really sure where I'm going until I get there. I think briefly about calling Angel, but this is something I've got to do alone, no matter how much it hurts. When I pull up in front of the farm, I know I'm in the right place. Dad's car is in front of the main house, but talking to him won't help. My eyes drift toward the barn.

It's already nearly dark, so as good as it might feel to saddle one of the horses and go galloping through the back meadows, letting speed and freedom chase away my worries for a little while, it would be completely stupid. Our horses are worth far too much money, and are far too close to our hearts. I could never risk it.

With that decided, I set out on foot through the underbrush that's encroaching on the trail that leads from the house's back door. This trail isn't used often, and nature always seems determined to reclaim it. The only time it ever stayed neat and tidy was before Mom left, when it was used multiple times a day.

Now, I think I'm the only one who uses it.

At last the clutching vines and thorns release me into the tiny clearing by the cabin's front door. I both hate and love this place, but I'm hoping that today, the feelings it conjures with its silent wizardry will help me sort out all the s.h.i.t swirling around in my head.

The door creaks in protest at its silent slumber being disturbed as I open it and step in, waking the cabin from its hibernation. Somehow, this place has always seemed asleep when Mom isn't here, even though it's only been a few weeks since I've been inside. It's like when she left, she took that vital spark that made this place alive and cheerful with her.

I wonder if she thought about us after she left; if she felt broken and lost inside, like she'd left a piece of her soul behind, the way I felt like a piece of mine disappeared. I wonder if on Christmas mornings, she looked at the faces around the tree and couldn't bring herself to smile because someone important was missing. I wonder if she looked at Ware and blamed him for him keeping her away, or if she always took ownership of her choices.

Dammit! I know it wasn't his fault. He was like me, just a kid, except even younger. I shouldn't blame him for her choices, but f.u.c.k it's hard not to. The fact remains that if she hadn't had him, she would have come home to me. Right?

Suddenly I'm not so sure. Things with her and my father were not exactly stable. I want to believe that she would've come back to see me, though, even if Dad wouldn't let me go live with her. She wouldn't have vanished without ever returning.

I need to forgive her, and accept that it isn't about who's at fault, it's about healing. But if I let go of the anger and blame, the sense of abandonment hurts so d.a.m.n much. h.e.l.l, the damage she did to me by leaving almost cost me Angel. Yet another reason for me to hate Mom and Ware.

But can I really hate Ware? He had no say in Mom leaving, and he brought her back, giving me a second chance if I want it. He's clearly a hard worker. Already everyone at the bar loves him, especially Chelsea, and I can't say they're wrong. He does every task I ask of him without complaining, and after being shown how to do something, he picks it up fast, able to help with whatever I need. He could have walked in here, told Dad about Lily, and collected a hefty payday. It surely would've been a much easier route for him, but instead he's working hard for it. I can't not respect that. Dammit, if he wasn't my brother, I'd like him a h.e.l.l of a lot.

So why don't I? Why the h.e.l.l does he rub me the wrong way?

Do I think he's going to take Chelsea from me? That can't be it. I never minded her with Dougie. But I never felt like she and Dougie had something real. Am I worried that she could really fall for Ware? Is he going to make her choose between me and him?