“Yes. Bailey invited her,” he strode to one of the empty chairs and tossed himself into it with all the aplomb of his twelve year old self. “She’s…”
“She fits you,” Andrea guessed with a knowing nod. “So we’d better make sure we keep her safe.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Angel liked being busy. She enjoyed seeing delight and pleasure on the faces of her customers when they tasted one of her creations. She liked knowing the people she’d chosen to work for her and with her, truly enjoyed their jobs.
She sat perched on a backless barstool, her hands expertly wielding the icing funnel over the cookies. Snowmen, Christmas trees, stockings and ornaments were all being decorated for the holiday crowds. Even with all the hustle, her mind drifted to Colin and then to her grandparents.
She’d left a message and checked her phone. Repeatedly. And she had it in the front pocket of her jeans, just in case. She hadn’t been to see them in several months. She blamed being busy, but now she wasn’t so sure. Her father had never turned his attention on them. That, she was grateful for. Maybe it would have been the final straw.
Her mind was on too many topics while her hands moved with practiced ease in an almost automatic way over the tray of thick sugar cookies. So when her phone sounded, she jumped slightly and her ornament received a nice blob of icing right at the bottom of the point.
After settling the tube of butter cream frosting, she stood and fished her phone from the pocket, expecting to see Colin’s name and number. She should assign special ringtones…she’d need to look up some, she thought with a smile.
Her fingers tightened and she almost dropped the phone when she saw her grandmother’s name in the readout. She fumbled it again and slid it open, quickly raising it to her ear.
“Gran! I was going to call and leave another message,” Angel walked away from the kitchen counter and into her office. She listened to the familiar, light laughter and felt a warmth inside her that seemed to untie the final knot that had been in her stomach.
“Breathe, my child,” Nora Greyeagle ordered. “I knew you would be hard at work and I don’t like bothering you. Will you come for dinner tonight? Your grandfather was hoping for Christmas cookies. We have missed you.”
“I…tonight…alright…yes,” she went through her choices quickly, nodding to herself and wincing at the same time. “I’m sorry. I have…so much on my mind right now. But I want to see you, I…I have things to tell you. I’ll leave here at four.”
“I’ve seen the news, Angel.”
“Oh,” Angel supped in a sharp breath. “Oh…I haven’t…but I’m thinking it can’t be good.”
“Not good for them. For you…” She chuckled richly. “I love watching that reporter work. She’s sharp and funny, but you can see in her eyes that she is very, very serious. Very well. I will inform your grandfather and we’ll have the table set for you. Be careful, Angel.”
“I will. I promise,” she answered, closing the phone and about to stick it into her pocket when she remembered the evening she’d be missing. And the man who would be upset…or understand. She opened it again and composed her email, giving him her grandmother’s phone number and the location where she would be, so he wouldn’t worry. She apologized and promised him tomorrow night.
By the time she had the staff informed and things all ready for Saturday morning’s opening, she went out the back door and straight to her wagon. The old habit of watching everything around her probably would never go away, she thought, her gaze shifting around the narrow alley behind her shop as she backed out and began the journey to the highway headed south.
Her stomach didn’t start to churn until she turned on the long gravel road leading to the rustic farm house made out of stripped logs and large rocks. Smoke exited the tall, stone chimney, blowing lightly to the north along with the rain spitting now and then.
Huge stands of pine, birch and oak spread behind the house. It was almost dark so she didn’t get to hear the chickens she used to chase as a child, and even as a teenager. The fenced area off to the left surrounded several horses, cattle and a couple buffalo that roamed the whole of the property’s ten acres.
Angel wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans. She was sweating and knew the feeling of a panic attack haunting her. She ignored her jacket as she climbed from the wagon, the light breeze grabbing her hair and fluffing it out. With a small purse and keys in one hand, she held the shopping bag filled with treats for her grandfather’s sweet tooth. She jogged to the wide, planked porch and used the large, iron knocker.
Her fingers had no sooner dropped it, then the door opened. Scents of all types of food met her and flowed from the warmth of the house the instant the door was pulled wide. Angel smiled at the woman waiting patiently for her to come inside. Her grandmother had made a lot of her favorites for her. She could smell each and every one of them with child-like delight at the memories.
“There’s my grand-daughter,” Nora announced proudly, her dark eyes beaming from the naturally dark skin.
Before the panic attack completely took control of her again, she stepped forward and brought her arms up. She and her grandmother were the same height. She closed her eyes to avoid seeing the surprise she knew was there as she wrapped her arms around her grandmother’s waist and just held her.
She’d done it.
She’d initiated it and that was all it took. Hands wrinkled, but strong were up to immediately circle her shoulders and refused to release her.
The damn broke. The tears fell and her hands tightened a little more, afraid to let go of the one thing that had been good in her life.
She wasn’t sure how, but she ended up on the sofa, her grandmother transferring her to another set of strong arms. She sobbed and accepted the towel pushed into her hands. A palm stroked softly over her head, onto her neck. A pair of familiar lips brushed her forehead and if she could breathe, she would have realized who it was holding her like the most precious gift.
“I’ll get her some herbal tea with honey. It’s one of her favorites,” Nora confided.
“I’m sorry,” Angel used the small towel and blew her nose before pressing it against eyes swollen. “I thought…I thought I could be…I didn’t want to…I needed to…”
She didn’t open her eyes until she heard the low, familiar chuckle. She thought she’d been handed off to her grandfather. But when she lifted her head and almost struck his strong, squared jaw, her gaze landed on the older man sitting comfortably across from her. So if he was there…and she wasn’t dreaming… She inhaled and the scent registered with a jolt of shock.
“How did you get here? What are you doing here!?” She demanded, trying to jump back. She was practically laying over him, wrapped in his arms and sniffling like a little girl. “Let go of me!”
“Not until you calm down.”
And he was laughing. Maybe not loud and not long, but it was in his eyes. As blurry as hers were, she could still see the crinkles at the corners of them.
“She still fights you, I see,” her grandfather said, chuckling and winking at his granddaughter. “I’d ask for one of those hugs, but I’m afraid she’s hugged out already.”
“No…no, I’m not,” Angel announced firmly, her palms flat against the soft shirt Colin wore, his tie gone and the top two buttons open. She met his gaze and felt his arms open for her with an approving nod. “Thank you,” she leaned in and kissed him before turning and stumbling into the older man’s arms.
How had she been so stupid to deny herself this her whole life?
The tears she’d had very briefly under control returned, her hands crushed against his chest and head on the softest flannel shirt. She inhaled as best she could, the smell of pine and fireplace and sage sent the flood of memories roaring through her.
It was coming home. It was good and long overdue.
“I worried when everything finally caught up with her,” Colin said softly, perched on the edge of the large cushi
oned sofa in patterns like a Navaho rug. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasp between them.
Nora came in with a large tray and he was up, taking it and placing it on the heavy, sheer glazed coffee table. It had been made from a tree stump and must have been a very old tree because it was big. He settled the tray and stood nervously watching Angel in the arms of her grandfather. Long overdue, he thought again to himself.
“I…I didn’t know I’d be such a mess,” Angel sniffled, kneeling between her grandfather’s knees with her head pressed against his chest. “I’m sorry. I thought I could be…could be…better…”
“Oh, Little Wing…” George Greyeagle kissed her forehead. His hands moved from her back to grip her shoulders and lean her away from him. “You are better. And I’ve never been more proud of you.”
“Don’t make me start crying again,” she wailed, offering no protest when he turned her and handed her off to Colin. She stared up at him, blinking and sniffling. “Why are you here?”
“I didn’t know I was a secret,” he teased, coaxing her to sit and handing her the cup of tea her grandmother had gestured to. “Drink.”
“He arrived half an hour ago,” George told her, nodding in approval as he added honey to the steaming mug. “He wanted to get our blessing and I’ve decided I like him with you, Little Wing.”
“That will need explaining,” Colin said with a chuckle when she gaped at him over the mug of tea. “Little Wing?”
“She used to perch in the branches of trees, like a bird when she was barely four or five. It might take her hours to scale the tree she selected, but she would find a way to get to the branch she wanted and just stretch along it, watching,” Nora recalled with a smile at the pink tinted cheeks.
“It isn’t something that left her when she grew, either,” George told him with a laugh. “She hasn’t told you much about her childhood or us.”
Colin sighed, his fingers stroking lightly over her head. “I told my mother this morning when she asked what Angel knew of my family, my childhood…that things were complicated and we hadn’t talked about those things much. But we would…in time,” he said with a confidence that came to him naturally.
Angel sniffled and then hiccupped. She sighed and hiccupped again.
“You never…you spoke to your mother? About me?” She tried to ignore the laughter from her grandparents. “And why are you here?” She hated the whine in her voice, wanted to stomp her foot and pout.
“She dislikes having her plans disturbed,” Nora confided with a sip of her tea. “Colin arrived thirty…forty minutes before you. He said you had plans with him, but canceled to come here. He was concerned with you being out alone after the…” she shook her head. “The court decision this morning.”
“I was worried about you,” Angel looked from one to the other. “I…the things I allowed myself to believe…the things I allowed to…to hurt you…”
“That type of talk will stop immediately,” Nora lowered her mug of tea, her gaze filled with acceptance. “This is a place you had to come to in your own time, Angel. We’re just glad we were still here to see it…and feel it.”
“I…I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing her lashes tight. “I know he’s never bothered you before, but…this is different than anything that’s happened in the past.”
“Vianne Summers let him use his own words to make him look like a raving fanatic,” George said with a deep swallow of his tea. “Delicious, as always.”
Angel relaxed in Colin’s arms, her head comfortably nestled against his shoulder, her tea cup empty. He looked down at her features and then over at Nora.
“I’m surprised she fell for it,” Nora said softly. “She would make herself sick worrying about when they were coming for her again. I used to brew this special tea to put her to sleep. She would work herself up with concern and fear.”
“She’s asleep,” Colin brushed her forehead with his lips.
“They put that fear in her eyes and took away her rights and her sense of adventure. Her sense of safety…her peace,” Nora finished her tea and set the cup down. “I will show you her room. It has a king sized bed,” she tipped her head with a smile, ignoring the cough from her husband. “Unless you would prefer a room of your own.”
“Her room will be fine.” Colin gently unwound her fingers from the cup and handed it to Nora. He stood up, cradling her against him.
“You can settle her for the night and join us for dinner,” Nora told him, leading the way to the back and up a wide set of stairs made from halved logs. “I will make her favorite breakfast. She forgives easily, Colin.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Consciousness was returning to her slowly. That was the best way to begin a morning, she’d always thought. There was the soft sound of music that broke into her dreams and reminded her that a new day was about to begin. But there was something alluring about the warmth and the softest sounds of morning today that held her attention, foggy though it was at the moment.
There weren’t many birds awake before the sun came up. Not in early December, but the rooster certainly liked making people aware of his presence.
One eye popped opened against all internal warnings.
She didn’t have a rooster. And she was pretty sure none of her city-dwelling neighbors, had roosters. It all came rushing back about the same time the very possessive palm cupped one breast and raked a thumb nail over the nipple until it wrinkled and pulled a tiny, soft groan from inside her.
Colin.
In bed with her.
At her grandmother’s house!
Without a second’s breath, she bolted upward, spun and knelt facing the stunned man watching her in the dim, grey light of dawn. Her mouth opened and closed. Twice. Her head swiveled, taking in her old room and her hands rose to shove her fingers into her hair and tug.
“She gave me sleeping tea again,” she whispered with a little growl.
“You’d been through a lot yesterday,” Colin answered honestly, rolling to his back and raising his arms. His hands went behind the sleep tousled hair and relaxed there. His eyes roamed from her face, lower, to the nipples that stood up.
It was a little chilly, she thought and tugged the blanket up. The man was too damn sexy for her sanity.
“I can fix that little cold problem you have,” he suggested, his voice husky and low.
“You need to go back to your room,” Angel hissed out, her head turning to look at the closed door and then back at him.
“This is my room,” he answered, humor evident in his voice.
“No. This is my old room. I…you…” Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes widened. “They know? You told them we…you and…”
“Angel, you’re over eighteen and besides, I think I won them over. They like me,” he informed her with that natural confidence that oozed out of every male pore on his body. A warm, sexy male body that made her want to crawl over him and…
Angel shook her head, gripping the blanket tighter. “Oh, no. I will not…this is my grandparent’s house!”
“How do you think your mother got into the world, Angel?”
“I…oh, no…” she tried scrambling back, out of his reach. Only problem was, he had a damned long reach. If not her, he managed to get a handful of blanket and pull, leaving her perched there in her birthday suit.
Colin laughed and made a wild lurch forward, his hair falling into his eyes as she bounced to her feet and almost made it over the side of the large bed. His hand was out like a whip, circling her waist and pulling her back against him. Her squeal ripped through the slowly erasing darkness.
“Let me go!” She hissed at him, bucking her body to the side only to realize her struggles were having a decided effect on him. “My…they’re here! They’ll hear…I cannot do this…”
“Then you’d better be quiet,” Colin murmured through his laugh, his gaze drinking in the length of the woman gracing his bed. He had one leg slung over hers to pin her t
o the mattress, her hands trapped between his body and hers.
Angel cleared her throat, Twice. Trying to think her way through this. No. Out of this, she corrected, thoughts of her grandparents and her in the same house while she and Colin…oh, no. No, don’t let your thoughts go there, she ordered firmly.
“Colin…” She began in a calm, reasonable sounding tone. Until she raised her gaze from the light coating of pale hair over his chest and looked into his eyes. One of those damn Dom brows was lifted into a high arch that not only sent her heart skittering, but her body betraying her with a stroke of fire between her thighs.
And he waited with that damn brow up, his sexy, tousled head tipped slightly and a delicious grin that made her want to scream.
“Sir…” She corrected slowly. “I honestly don’t think I can…I could…focus…”
“You doubt my ability to pull your focus?”
“I did not say that,” she answered instantly, the words all crowded together at the look in his eyes that she was coming to know all too well. Her head shook adamantly when he lifted on one elbow and gently nudged her to the side before rolling to his back. When he seemed satisfied, he placed both hands on her waist and lifted until she was stretched over him.
Angel tried keeping her legs together and stiff, which worked only until one of his hands left her waist and came down very sharply on her bare ass. Her legs fell apart instantly with him in the middle.
Her yelp was ripped from her throat before she could make her brain remember where she was and with whom. His hand returned to her waist, both of them holding her firmly in place until she relaxed and closed her mouth, the too fast breathing gradually settling into a soft pant.
“Tighten your knees on my hips, Angel.”
Her response was instant, the simmering sexuality and control in his voice breaking through the fears that occasionally gained access to her thoughts and emotions. She kept her eyes on his, watching the color darken as his hands showed her how he wanted her to move.
Independence: #2 Angel Page 22
