Promises After Dark (After Dark #3)

by Kahlen Aymes

  He flipped Angel onto her back and pumped into her hard, increasing the pace of his fingers on her clit. She bit into the flesh of his bicep, but he didn’t feel it. He eyes never left her face as he felt her begin to come. She didn’t utter a sound as she fell over the edge. Alex finally stilled, physically exhausted, against her. He kissed the side of her face and traced her cheekbone with his thumb. Both of them were spent and breathing hard, covered in a fine veil of perspiration.

  “I love you, Angel.”

  She hugged him tight. She could give some smartass response, but all she wanted to do was hold him and never let go. She turned her face into him. “I love you, too. So much.”

  Alex slid out of her but stayed above her, staring down into her face, a look of wonder on his face. “That was too damn incredible. Can it be my birthday every day?” A sly grin lifted one side of his mouth.

  Angel smiled softly, a finger running down his face. He was the most handsome, beautiful man she’d ever seen, and it was hard to believe someone so incredible would want her and love her with the same ferocity she felt for him; yet, he did.

  “Yes,” she murmured softly.

  “What was that?” he repeated, a gentle tease and smile in his voice. Alex softly nuzzled Angel’s nose with his, tracing it with the tip.

  “Mmmm,” Angel protested with a soft poke to his ribs.

  “Yes to moving in, yes to perpetual birthdays, yes to making love, and yes to marrying me, all in one day.” His mouth began to play with hers, his heart so full it hurt.

  How could she resist this man? He owned her—heart, body and soul—but she was a more than willing prisoner. “Okay, yes; to all of the above,” she said seriously, the tip of her finger touching his lower lip.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more beautiful word,” Alex said as he bent to claim her mouth in another passionate kiss.

  Epilogue

  “We should go in here,” Becca said, stopping in front of a bridal shop on East Oak Street.

  Angel should have been suspicious when Becca asked her to meet for drinks on Rush Street. She rarely came out to the downtown bar scene, and it was late Friday afternoon, and Becca suggested she come and hang out with Angel during her show. She’d never been in the studio when Angel was on air, so she thought it would be fun. Jillian was spending the weekend with her parents. Since Alex was traveling, Angel had agreed.

  “Are you and Cole that serious already?” Angel shot her friend a mocking glance.

  Becca rolled her eyes. She and Cole had been spending time together since they’d been back in Chicago, and he had fully recovered, but she knew Angel was teasing. “No. You’re the one engaged, bitch,” she shot back.

  “So?” It was an early spring day, and it was beautiful outside. “We haven’t even set a date.”

  Becca tugged on her arm. “So… you should at least look, Angel. You can’t keep a man like Alex waiting forever.”

  “It’s been four months since we got engaged, Becs. We’ve only known each other a year. Lay off.”

  Becca knew how long it had been, and she also knew Alex wanted to get married in the not-too-distant future. “I know, Angel, but what’s the harm in looking? It could be fun. If I were engaged, I’d be buying every bridal magazine I could get my hands on! Aren’t you anxious to marry Alex?”

  “We’re together, and we love each other. We don’t need a piece of paper to be committed to each other. It won’t change a thing.” Becca tugged Angel closer to the entrance of the upscale exclusive shop. “Look. It says ‘by appointment’ only. Better luck next time, Becs.”

  Angel started moving back out the door, but Becca stopped her. “Well, maybe we have an appointment.”

  “What?”

  Becca shrugged. She was dressed in designer jeans, tall black boots, and a leather jacket over a heavy cowl neck sweater, her blonde hair done up in a messy bun. The cool air had kissed both of the girls’ faces with a healthy flush. “We have an appointment.” Her head cocked to one side then the other, then she looked heavenward. “I made you an appointment.”

  “Presumptuous much?” Angel asked, astonished, still decked out in a classic black wool pencil skirt and fitted suit jacket, her favorite chartreuse blouse, and her black Prada pumps. She’d just left her office before meeting Becca.

  “What are best friends for?”

  “For overstepping their boundaries, apparently.” Angel looked aghast.

  “Look, Angel, last week, when we all went bowling, I watched Alex when I asked you about your wedding. He’s anxious. He wants to get married. Why would you keep a man like that waiting?”

  Angel paused and considered her friend’s words.

  “You love the guy. So what’s the hold-up?”

  “We don’t want a huge wedding. This stuff is just a waste of money.”

  “Oh, my God. Shut up, and get your ass in here, pronto!” Becca insisted, opening the door and pointing inside. “Now.” She cocked an eyebrow at Angel.

  Angel stood planted in place. Becca nodded into the store, more exaggerated than before.

  She wasn’t sure why she hesitated, other than it seemed weird when she and Alex hadn’t set a date. Allison and Cora had asked to take her bridal gown shopping just the week before, but she’d brushed off the invitation with an excuse about work.

  “Angel, get your little ass in this store, already! It’ll be fun. We’ve got a couple hours to kill.”

  Secretly, she wanted to look at gowns, but it went against her convictions that the wedding was about the love not the outward symbolism. More often than not, too much money went into pomp and circumstance when the real focus should be on the person you’re marrying. She’d seen women get married purely for the wedding then live to regret it. Her heart was one hundred percent invested, though, and more than the dress, she was more interested in stunning Alex. That was what her wedding daydreams were about.

  “This place looks too pricey. My dad will want to buy the gown, and he can’t afford it here.”

  “Let’s just look. What could it hurt?”

  Angel chewed her lower lip before nodding. “Okay.”

  “Okay! Yay!” Becca’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. She ushered Angel through the double doors.

  A very chic, middle-aged woman, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek chignon, greeted them. She was wearing a simple cream-colored dress that was tailored to fit her like a glove. “Good afternoon, ladies. I’m Sonya. Which one of you is Angel?” she asked. Her voice, the way she looked and walked, it was all beyond expensive.

  The boutique had a few dresses in the windows and others on six headless mannequins around the entrance; the styles starkly different from each other.

  “I’m Angel,” she answered. “This is my ex-best friend Becca.” She shot Becca a wry look and offered her hand to the woman.

  The woman reached out and shook her hand, “Sorry?” she asked quizzically.

  “Oh, don’t mind her. She doesn’t think she wants a wedding gown,” Becca answered. “She thinks she’s being coerced.”

  The woman’s thin eyebrows shot up, and her fine features took on a shocked expression. “What? Every woman dreams of her wedding dress from the time she’s a young girl!” she said incredulously. “Didn’t you ever play dress-up in your mother’s wedding dress?”

  Becca’s eyes visibly widened.

  “Um…” Angel prickled. “My father burned it in an old oil barrel on a friend’s farm when I was barely two years old.” Her answer was abrupt and very, very honest. She looked the woman straight in the face without flinching. The same couldn’t be said of Sonya. If she was shocked before, she was more so now. “Along with everything else she left behind when she took off.”

  The woman looked taken aback and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I didn’t know.”

  Angel shrugged, running her hands down the sheer sleeve of one of the gowns, admiring the intricate pattern of the lace. “You couldn’t know. I’m sorry
if I was short with you.”

  The moment was awkward, but Sonya had the two women follow her into a smaller room with mirrors on all three walls and a platform in the center. There were three dressing rooms on one side; the décor was a combination of blush, cream, and white. It was all very soft and subtly elegant. In the middle dressing room, they sat down on some upholstered, blush pink chairs around a small glass-topped table.

  “Well,” Sonya cleared her throat lightly. “Do you have a style in mind? Your figure is quite stunning. You can get away with wearing any type of gown you want.”

  “I have no clue, to be honest. I would imagine my fiancé would enjoy something somewhat fitted.”

  “What type of wedding are you having?”

  “We haven’t set a date or picked a venue. Maybe this is premature,” Angel hedged. “Doesn’t the dress usually come after all of that stuff is figured out?”

  “Well, sometimes, but at other times, the venue and time of day the wedding is held is predicated by what gown is chosen.”

  “Expensive works,” Becca piped up. “Her fiancé is Alexander Avery; perhaps you’ve heard of him? His family will expect something extravagant.”

  Angel was horrified and wanted to kick her friend under the table, except the clear glass tabletop wouldn’t hide her action. “Becca!” she admonished instead.

  “What?” Becca was nonplussed. “I didn’t fuck up his name, did I?” She grinned.

  Angel wanted to die of embarrassment, but the consultant just laughed. She felt her face flush.

  Sonya reached out, patted Angel’s hand with hers, and smiled. “Should we shop through the racks, or do you just want me to pull a few gowns for you to try on?”

  “Um,” Angel looked around the store. There were many, many beautiful dresses. “We can try a few that you choose.” It wouldn’t matter anyway since nothing would be purchased today.

  “Excellent! I’ll be right back. Do you have a color preference? White, ivory, champagne?”

  Angel shook her head. She hadn’t thought about it enough to get as far as color choice. “Whatever you feel would be best is fine.” She smiled pensively, looking up at Sonya, who was smiling brightly.

  “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll pick some beautiful gowns. Be right back.”

  Becca was flipping through one of the bridal magazines sitting on the table, and she glanced up at Angel. “What do you think of this one?” She shoved the open magazine toward Angel. The picture was of a woman on a chaise lounge, her extravagant gown pulled out behind her. It was a full and beautiful ball gown covered in tulle.

  It was pretty, but not really Angel’s taste. “She looks like a giant marshmallow.”

  Becca was exasperated. “Ugh! Angel. You are such a buzzkill.”

  “I think it’s too soon, Becca. Alex and I haven’t talked much about the wedding. We have time. Beyond that, I think I should invite Cora and Allison when I shop for a dress, don’t you?”

  Becca perked up. “We can call them.”

  “We’re already here; there isn’t time for them to get here.”

  Sonya came back into the room carrying three dress bags and hung them on the high hooks. “These are all sheathes or trumpet style so we won’t need crinoline, but do you want a strapless bra?” she asked, looking up at Angel. She was bent over and unzipping the first bag.

  This wasn’t “official” in Angel’s mind, so she dismissed the suggestion. “I think I’m fine just tucking my straps in, if necessary.”

  Sonya had Angel in and out of a dozen dresses within the hour, and Becca was playing with her phone, other than to look up each time Angel had on a new dress to give her opinion.

  Angel tried a couple of ball gowns, but her original instinct about the fitted gowns seemed spot on. She was standing on the platform in the larger room lined with mirrors, looking at every detail of the gown. “I like this style, but I’m not sure.” She studied herself in the mirror. It was a sweetheart neckline with cap sleeves, silk satin, and flared beneath the knees with silk chiffon ruffles. “I like the shape.”

  “Knock, knock!” Ally’s happy voice broke in. Angel glanced in the direction of the door, and a smile split her face as Ally and Cora appeared.

  Angel’s lips formed a stunning smile. “Hey! Did Becca call you?” she asked in surprise, bending at the waist to reach down and hug each of them from her perch on the platform.

  “Yes, and I’m so glad she did!” Cora returned. “Oh, Angel! You’re going to be such a beautiful bride.”

  “Do you like this one? It’s a little plain, don’t you think?” Allison asked. Angel nodded.

  “A little. I don’t care for the sleeves.”

  Ally wrinkled her nose as she gave the gown another once-over. “I agree.”

  The two women sat down on a plush sofa behind the platform after they greeted Becca when Sonya returned with three more gowns. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Cora and Allison, my future mother and sister-in-law.” Angel introduced them, feeling a bit of pleasure rush through her at being able to address them as such.

  “Wonderful! I think we are getting closer! Are you ready, Angel?” She asked after she’d deposited the new dresses inside the dressing room.

  Allison, Becca, and Cora were supportive of Angel’s likes and dislikes but honest if they felt a particular gown wasn’t right.

  “Angel, I’d like to look in the couture designs,” Cora mentioned, pointing to a room to the left.

  Angel shook her head. “Um, my dad will want to purchase the dress, and I don’t want it to be too extravagant.”

  “Nonsense. You’re never too extravagant on your wedding gown. I never expected Alexander to get married, so we’re going to knock his socks off. Charles and I will help with the gown.”

  “But—” Angel began, but Cora waved her objection away.

  “Sonya, please.” Cora’s voice was quiet but commanding as she instructed the consultant. “The most beautiful you have, please. Designer or not, just bring out the most beautiful in the store.”

  Sonya went into the dressing room and returned carrying out five of the rejected dresses. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, disappearing out of the room.

  Angel stood there, grateful that Cora wanted to help and was willing to pay for the dress, but cash wasn’t the issue. She could pay for it herself, but she knew her dad would want to give that to her.

  “Cora, Alex and I have discussed it, and the important thing is just getting married. All the other stuff doesn’t matter.”

  Cora’s elbow was leaning on the back of the small sofa, and her right knee curled beneath her. She looked young and vibrant, a fresh pink hue kissed her skin. “Nonsense. Alex told me he wants only the best for you, darling.”

  Angel sighed. “But the best isn’t always the most expensive.”

  “Let’s just see a few, shall we?” Her request sounded indulgent, but Angel knew the consultant would bend to the purse strings and acquiesce.

  “He’s the best for me.” She sounded cheesy even to herself. Becca reiterated with gusto.

  Becca reiterated with gusto and made an over-exaggerated gagging motion, as if she were about to puke. “Excuse me while I vomit.”

  Angel’s eyes widened, and she shot her a warning look.

  “Alex would want you to have only the best, Angel,” Ally interjected.

  “Does he always get what he wants?” She and Alex had discussed it, and while she knew his position on giving her the “fairy tale”, he understood that it wasn’t the wedding that mattered to her. She didn’t know how she got here. Becca and she were going to have dinner and drinks, and instead, she was defending her views on not going overboard on the wedding.

  Allison huffed in amusement. “Now that you mention it, yes, and it’s maddening.”

  Becca laughed. “Angel, just try some on. And, remember, less is more. He died when he saw you in that backless dress, remember?”

  “When was that?” Ally asked.

>   “Their first date. You should have seen Alex’s jaw drop. It was the only time I’ve ever seen him speechless.”

  “’Less is more means something else in this case, Becca.”

  “Why can’t it be both?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Angel, live a little.”

  “All humor aside, Angel. Alex loves you; he’ll only get married once, and so will you. That said; let’s knock him on his ass, shall we?” Ally’s eyes danced with mischief as she grinned. “There are so few occasions where I get to witness him stumbling and stuttering, so give a girl a break.” She smiled brightly.

  “Please, just humor us, hmmm?” Cora’s finely tweezed brow rose, and she smiled softly. “There’s no harm in looking, is there?”

  “I suppose, but honestly, I don’t want Alex thinking it’s about money, and I don’t want to hurt my father.”

  Cora laughed. “Believe me, Angel. Alex realizes you don’t care about money, and let your father pay part of it. He doesn’t have to know he didn’t pay for all of it.”

  “We’re just looking now, anyway. I don’t want to buy a dress until the date is set, so this is all a little premature.”

  Sonya returned and ushered Angel into the dressing room. Two other consultants appeared, each of them carrying three dresses. They deposited them on the hooks on the wall, removed any remaining that Angel had already tried on, save the one she currently wearing, and disappeared. It was a well-oiled machine.

  The zippers were undone on the bags and several amazing gowns appeared. Angel was a little speechless at how beautiful some of them were, and she didn’t want to fall in love with a dress her father couldn’t afford, despite Cora’s insistence she would help buy it.

  Angel gasped at some of the exposed gowns dripping with designer labels and embellishments. Mark Zunino, Vera Wang, Oscar de la Renta, Vivian Westwood, Givenchy… Angel was speechless. “Holy shit,” she said without thinking.

  “These are breathtaking, Angel!” Becca said.

  Cora and Ally were not so blown away, looking at the gowns with a more critical eye, though they did like three of the five.