Forever My Angel Part 8

"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 shivers, 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 shifted 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.

a-aa- I still haven't called Mom back come Thursday. Truth be told, I'm a bit relieved knowing she's going home today. I'm trying to wrap my head around everything, but I'm just not ready to deal with her yet. And it isn't like I don't have more pressing things on my plate.

I'm headed back to the scene of Angel's accident, to the vacant warehouse that I think can be converted into the perfect nightspot. But this time Angel is in the pa.s.senger seat beside me, her hand tucked into mine on the center console. I told her everything about my dreams and plans to open another location, one that I can build from the ground up. I think she could tell how enthusiastic I am about the project, because she said she wants to see the location.

And she's still determined to meet Eva.

There's the real kicker. She insists that to feel comfortable, she needs to meet the woman who was stupid enough to put her lips on me. I feel sort of like a fire hydrant she's c.o.c.king a leg on to mark her territory, but that's not to say I mind. She can mark me as hers any day of the week.

Eva is waiting for us when we park in front of the building. I have to intentionally avert my eyes from the telephone pole Angel crashed into. A shudder goes through me just thinking about it. A replacement for her Mustang has already been delivered, not that she's had the opportunity to drive it yet. I've kept her by my side constantly. Her old one could have been repaired, but I feel safer with her in a car that's never been in a wreck. The two cars look identical, so no one but Angel and I will ever know of the switch. Angel is still adamant that Chelsea not know about the crash, and I'm going along with it even if I do think she's being a tiny bit ridiculous. I consider it practice for a happy marriage down the road.

Eva seems unsure who to look at, but Angel doesn't give her much choice. As soon as I've got the truck in park, she's got her seatbelt off, door open, and is striding toward my maybe-fired, maybe not-fired realtor. I wanted to just fire her and never have to deal with her again, but Angel said that's no longer up to me. That seems a bit extreme, but hey, whatever she wants.

I called Eva at Angel's behest and told her I'd meet with her instead of her father, and that I wanted to show Angel the property I was trying to buy. I still haven't done the paperwork, because making sure Angel was truly okay after her accident was my only priority.

Angel's arms are crossed against her chest, and her shoulders are squared as she eyes Eva up and down. Eva tries to look past her and meet my eyes, but I shake my head. This is up to Angel now, and I'll be okay with whatever she decides.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am," Eva begins.

"You're right, you can't." Angel steps close to Eva, leaving mere inches between them. "Because I don't want to hear it. I know Axel, and I know there's no way in h.e.l.l he gave you any mixed signals, which means you likely knew he was taken and didn't give a d.a.m.n. Girls like you are filth, but I will not allow you to mess this up for him. He wants this deal, and he wants this property, and you're going to make sure he gets it. But if you so much as make goo-goo eyes in his direction I will knock them out of your pretty little head."

This is the first I've heard Angel say she knows I didn't give Eva the wrong impression. She could have told me that a bit sooner and put me out of my misery. I have to shake my head at my girl.

Eva swallows, her eyes on her feet. When she lifts them, they're sad, but resolved. "Okay. Just please, if we could keep this from my father."

Angel glances back at me, and I nod. "As long as we don't have any more trouble, I don't see that being a problem."

Eva gives Angel a tentative smile. "For what it's worth, this was never about Axel. I've always had a hard time believing men can be faithful. My father cheated on my mother, and I preferred to believe men couldn't be faithful in general, rather than think of my father as weak."

Angel shakes her head. "I don't want your excuses. If you're going to work with him, leave your daddy issues at the door."

I can't help smiling. She's something else. But suddenly I realize Angel's never talked to me about her father. I've heard all about her mother, but never her father. Even when we gamed together from afar, it never came up. She's so insistent I get to know my mom; family is obviously important to her. So where is her old man?

"Yes, Ms...?"

"Sterling."

Not for long, I think. I cannot wait until Angel is officially Mrs. Axel Chadwell. We're going to share everything, even though I know that's going to be another fight. And there won't be any pre-nup, not that my father's brought it up anyway. Her name is going to be on all my accounts, and we'll make decisions together. I should put her name on Tuck's Tap, too.

Just like that, it hits me all of a sudden how stupid I've been. I think I wanted to feel worthy of her by making plans for a new place that would be mine, but amine' isn't what I want it to be. I want it to be ours. She had every right to get irritated about me not sharing my plans with her. Christ, how does she put up with me?

While I was lost in thought, Angel and Eva have gone on to explore the interior of the building. It only takes me a few moments to catch up and fall into place at Angel's side. "What do you think?"

She smiles. "I like it. Are you going to put the bar on this floor, or up there?" She points to the balcony that wraps around the second level.

"I'm thinking the bar here, not far inside the entrance, so people can get drinks right away before going through the dancing area. Then, at the back, I want to tear out that staircase and put in a beautiful grand stairway, sort of like what you'd see in a Southern mansion, but more modern and spectacular." Maybe even with lights on each step in different colors.

Angel's nod is enthusiastic. "And what do you want to put up there?"

"I'm thinking about a full-service restaurant, but I haven't figured out what kind. And a few private party rooms. I want to turn this into the place to be, and to be seen. Part club, part bar. But I'm at a loss on how to truly make it different from anything else that's out there."

Angel c.o.c.ks her head to the side for a moment, thinking. Her eyes roam the upper level. "What about making it into a fondue restaurant?"

"Fondue?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. There are very few of them, but they're lots of fun. The only ones I've been to are more for a fancy sit-down meal, not for a astay and party all night with your girls' type of evening. You could call the place Melt."

"Melt," I try the word on my tongue, and I think I like it.

"How are we doing?" Eva interrupts, walking closer to us. "Still want to put in an offer?"

"Absolutely. Fax the paperwork as soon as we leave here, please. Send it to my father's number at Chadwell Farms. We're headed there, and I'd like to sign this evening."

Even though this will be my projectamine and Angel's, once she agreesaI need my father's signature on the financial paperwork because I'll be buying it through one of our business accounts.

Eva gives me a sharp nod. "I'll get started at once."

"You named it, so you know what this means, right?"

Angel turns a skeptical look in my direction as we get back into my truck. "What?"

"You're going to have to help me develop and run it."

Her expression immediately turns stricken. "I don't know anything about running a business! No way."

"Guess you'll learn, just like I did."

"No. This is all you. I'm just involved enough to make sure Eva doesn't get any more ideas."

I decide to let it drop for now, but this discussion isn't over. "Speaking of Eva, when she was talking about her father, I realized I don't know anything about yours. Are you as close with him as you are with your mother?"

"What?" She turns to me, a puzzled look on her face, then sort of shakes her head. "Sorry, I feel like you've been a part of me for so long that sometimes I forget we don't know everything about each other. My mom was actually a surrogate for her older sister and her brother-in-law. While she was carrying me for them, they were killed in a head-on collision. But my mom is my mom, and that's just all there is for me." Angel shrugs.

I reach over and take her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. "Your mom rocks." I mean it. From my few conversations with her, I know she has a very giving heart, and Angel's story only makes that more clear. I can't wait to get to know her better when she comes out to visit us.

Angel's quiet the rest of the way to the farm, and I can't help feeling like I've said or done something to upset her.

We're almost there when I ask, "Is everything okay?"

She stares out the window, and at first I'm not sure she heard me. Then she sighs, and my chest tightens with worry. "It's just that sometimes I wonder if we're moving too fast. Do we really know each other as much as we think we do? I don't ever doubt our love, but sometimes I can't help wondering if we're going to wake up and realize we're strangers. Or worse, wake up like your parents and realize we can't make it work."