My American Angel (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 6)

by Brooke St. James

  "Yes," I said.

  "What's going on in that head of yours, Caroline?"

  "I was just thinking that there aren't too many people in the world who get to experience something like this," I said. "I think it's important that we take in the amazing unlikelihood of this moment."

  "I'm enjoying this moment too," he said. "And I think I'll enjoy it even more when I turn and look at you."

  "Don't," I said. "I'm scared. I don't want to do it."

  "You're not scared," he said. "Not someone who dressed up in a Panther costume."

  "Oh gosh, you heard all that?" I asked.

  "I wasn't trying to listen, you guys were just talking really loud."

  I let out a laugh. "Ms. Bonnie. Why'd you come early?" I asked.

  "I left Miami a little early since I didn't know about traffic. I just came straight here. It's a wonderful little library."

  "Say something in French," I said.

  Theo proceeded to say a whole phrase that I didn't even try to understand. I loved the sound of the words even though I didn't know the meaning of them.

  "What did you say?" I asked.

  "I said 'I still have a scar from the cut I got from that pocketknife'."

  He was sitting on my right side with his back to mine. Before I knew what was happening, he scooted back far enough to stretch his arm into my lap. I looked down at his hand, forgetting to breathe.

  He rubbed the side of his finger with his thumb. "Right here," he said.

  I instinctually held his hand, cradling it in front of me so I could inspect the small scar. I was staring down at it when he shifted so that he could look at me. I could feel him staring at the side of my face, but I couldn't make myself look. I was already a big bundle of nerves just from sitting next to him and holding his hand. When I realized the bodily sensations that were occurring inside of me as a result of touching him, I smiled and gave him back his hand.

  "I can't believe you have a scar," I said, smiling but still not looking at him. "I remember you cutting yourself."

  I shouldn't have let go of his hand because he used his newfound freedom to touch my chin, urging me to look up at him.

  I cried instantly.

  I don't know why it happened, but tears sprang to my eyes the instant they met his. I looked away, blinking like crazy. Theo tilted my chin again, looking me over thoughtfully as if really contemplating what he saw.

  I took in his face, but I could hardly stand to look into his dark eyes. When I looked at his eyes, I saw the same boy. He was the same boy, giving me the same expression. That expression had the same affect on me now as it did then. His eyes spoke to me—only now he was a man, and they said different things. I felt pulled toward him just as I had all those years ago.

  "Some things never change, do they?" he whispered.

  "You're taller," I said.

  "So are you," he said.

  His eyes were brown, and just like when we were young, I could see gold in them. I stared at the bone structure of his face, marveling how something could be entirely the same and yet altogether different.

  "How long are you staying?" I asked. I thought of my brother and the things he was saying about meeting Theo being pointless. "What's your last name?" I asked when I thought of Will.

  "Duval," he said.

  "Like Robert?"

  "Like Robert," he agreed. "And as far as my trip… I was planning on Monday. My flight out is for Monday."

  "Do you have to be back for work?" I asked, trying to make him tell me what he did for a living.

  He shook his head. "Not really."

  "What do you do?"

  "I buy and sell art mostly, but I do a little of everything. I enjoy trying new things. I try to try new things as often as I can."

  I smiled at him. "An art dealer, huh? I figured you did something with art, but I thought it was more secretive than that because you were so reluctant to give me any details."

  "I didn't really want to go into it. I was hoping you wouldn't look me up—not until I got here and had the chance to look at you face-to-face."

  "Why didn't you want me to look you up?" I asked. "What would I find? Are you notorious or something?"

  "Not really, but my name does come up when you search it on the internet. There was a documentary. It was about my… I have this collective in New York, and I… anyway, I, my name comes up when you search it, and I just wanted to get here and meet you face-to-face first, that's all."

  I stared straight into his eyes and gave him a little smile. I wanted to know everything about him all at once, and I didn't even know where to start.

  "What did our face-to-face tell you?" I asked.

  He grinned. "That you're crazy about me even though you have no idea who I am."

  "Are you famous?" I asked.

  "No. At least not in the way you're probably thinking."

  "Do you know any famous people?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  "Are you friends with famous people?"

  "Yes."

  I stared at him, trying to figure out how I felt. He had on a regular T-shirt and jeans, but I could tell by the way he was groomed and the way he carried himself that he was a man of power.

  "So you deal art, and you know famous people?"

  "Yes to both of those, but I wouldn't necessarily choose those two things as my proudest accomplishments."

  "What are your proudest accomplishments?" I asked.

  Theo was quiet and contemplative for several seconds before smiling at me. "You go first," he said.

  Chapter 7

  "I don't know what I'd consider my proudest accomplishment," I said. "I work hard. I have nice things, and I'm thankful for them. I have a good life. I went to college. I love God. I'm good to people. But honestly, there hasn't been some monumental achievement." I glanced at him. "Has there been with you?"

  "I was trying to think of that a minute ago when you first asked me, and I guess the answer is 'yes'. I've had the opportunity to live through some pretty cool accomplishments."

  "Like what?"

  "I've started businesses and non-profits and been pretty successful in quite a few ventures. I've had the honor of sending a few underprivileged kids to college, too. I love doing that."

  I let out a little laugh, thinking he was joking. He said it so casually that I honestly thought he was, but his facial expression told me he was actually serious. "Are you being serious? Did you pay for somebody to go to college?"

  "Yes," he said, looking like he couldn't quite believe it himself.

  "Really? Their whole tuition?"

  "Yes."

  "More than one kid?"

  Theo sighed as if looking for the right words. "I know it seems crazy, but it's honestly hard for me believe the way my life came together. I don't really feel like I can take credit for any of it."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because I just followed a recipe. Simple as that."

  "What recipe?" I asked.

  "You said you believe in God, so you can appreciate it when I tell you it was something I read in the Bible."

  "A recipe?" I asked.

  Theo smiled. "Not really—although I thought of it like that at the time and it worked, so yeah, maybe it was a recipe."

  "What was it?" I asked.

  "Remember I told you I left Canada at the age of sixteen?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "Well, when I left, I was under the impression that I had just been given a get out of jail card. I had probably been lied to, but I had no idea at the time. I thought this guy had just helped me out and given me more money than I deserved. He gave me four thousand, and that seemed like a million dollars to me back then. I came to New York thinking I was rich."

  "Where did the recipe come in?" I asked.

  He smiled. "I'm getting there," he said. "Like I said, I was young at the time. All I knew was that I loved art. I loved looking at it and making it. I'm a true student and appreciator of art. I really lov
e it when people can use their hands to create something beautiful. Anyway, so I have this four thousand, and I literally said out loud to God, 'I want to do something with art, and I want to live a good life. Tell me what to do.' God didn't say anything or give me any sorts of feelings when I asked that, so I took a Gideon Bible out of the hotel drawer and I closed my eyes as I opened it. I put my hand down on the page, telling myself that when I opened my eyes, I would read whatever was in front of me. My fingers were positioned in just the right way that there were three verses between my finger and thumb. This is the recipe I was talking about. It's a passage in Timothy. I had a handful of cash in one hand and a Bible in the other as I looked at the words, and I just felt in my heart that God was talking straight to me. It said not to trust in uncertain riches. That's what got my attention. I didn't want my riches to be uncertain so I kept reading. Then it said to do good and to be rich in good works—ready to give, and willing to share. I didn't really understand that I was poor with four thousand, so I took those words very literally and I immediately began living by them. I started sharing my money, and the rest is history. It's seriously a miracle. It's like that original four grand is still just multiplying out of my pocket. I do my best to balance being generous and being wise, but I err on the side of generosity, and it hasn't failed me yet."

  I sat there thinking about everything he said. I don't know what I expected when I reached out to the boy from the library, but this wasn't it. Not only was he incredibly handsome, but obviously he was also a wonderful person.

  "So, you're an art dealer who gives a bunch of money away, and it just keeps multiplying?"

  He laughed. "Basically. I mean, don't get me wrong, I work hard. I don't just sit back and hand money to people expecting someone to hand it to me. I run businesses and make plans and set goals, but there is something supernatural going on with my finances, for sure. I have help. Nobody would look at me and say I am a religious person, but you asked about my accomplishments, and I felt like I needed to tell you that the stuff I was most proud came about by me blindly following that advice in that hotel Bible."

  "And look where you are now," I said. "Still following the recipe. That's pretty amazing."

  Theo smiled and shrugged as if he couldn't explain it. "It's amazing to me, too, honestly."

  "You're really inspiring. I feel like I want to go sign up to work at a food bank or something."

  "Don't give me too much credit," he said. "I don't suffer. Like I said, I just blindly trusted God with that first little bit, and it's been going from there."

  "Do you still make art?" " I asked.

  "I do. I like to draw. I like to paint. I don't get to do it all the time, but I do enjoy it. How about you?"

  "I took an art class in college, and I liked it, but it's not my passion or anything. If I had to choose something that I truly love to do, it would have to be gardening. I don't know if that counts as a talent, but I do love it. It's probably the thing that gives me the most pleasure. I like to work the ground. It's fun for me to plant something and take care of it. I love to watch it grow and reap the benefits of it. I don't mind working at my parents' store, either. I get to see my family, and we have a lot of regulars that come in."

  "I guess you don't have any plans to move to New York, then."

  I smiled at him as I shook my head. "No. And you sound like my brother."

  "Why?"

  "He asked me why in the world I'd want to meet up with you when you live so far away."

  "Why do you?" Theo asked.

  I shrugged. "Because you made a promise to me when we were ten years old. So what if you agreed to it without knowing what I was saying? You still agreed to it."

  "What was the promise?" Theo asked.

  "That if neither of us were married by the time we were thirty, we would meet up again."

  "I didn't know being married had anything to do with it. You didn't mention the part about not being married."

  "Are you married? " I asked.

  "No."

  "Have you been married?"

  "No," Theo said. "You just didn't mention that the last time we talked. What does being married have to do with it?"

  I squinted at him because I knew he was teasing me. "It would change things a little if one of us was married, don't you think?" I asked.

  He looked at me with a completely confused expression. "How? How would that change things? Are you saying you like me for a boyfriend? Did you bring me here because you like me?"

  He was acting serious and shocked, but I knew he was being a big clown. I nudged him with my shoulder. "No," I said. "You got on my nerves back then. I really wanted to get back at you for bugging me so much. My brother is waiting outside to beat you up."

  "Well, I didn't like you either," he said. "I still don't." He reached up and touched a piece of hair that was hanging near my face. "I hate the way these little pieces of hair fall out of your ponytail. I hate your dimples and your smile and your eyes—your blue eyes, Caroline. I hate them. They're the worst."

  I smiled. He was whispering to me in the library just like he had done all those years ago.

  "I hate you too," I said. "I hate that you answered my call and that you came here. I think this is just the worst, most awkward situation I could imagine."

  I was so serious that Theo cracked a tiny smile, which made me have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from doing the same.

  "It's crazy," he said.

  "What's crazy?"

  He inspected my face. "That I still feel exactly the same as I did when I was ten." He paused and glanced around at all the books. "Seriously," he said looking straight at me again. "It's amazing. I'm that same kid, feeling all those same things."

  "I'm the same kid too," I said.

  Theo said something to me in French, and his timing was so perfect that I closed my eyes and let the sound of his words wash over me. It was like music. My eyes were still closed as Theo put his hand on my face, and I opened them as soon as I felt his touch. I thought he would pull away, but he didn't. He just regarded me with a casual half-smile.

  "What did you say just now?" I asked.

  "I stated my disdain for the past twenty years."

  "Because you like me?" I asked.

  He nodded.

  "I think I like you too," I said.

  "There are people everywhere," he whispered.

  He was right. When we first sat down, we were the only ones in that area, but in the last couple of minutes, two or three different people had come to stand nearby. They weren't right next to us, but we could definitely feel their presence.

  "I know," I whispered back. "It's getting packed in here."

  He smiled. "We could find somewhere else to go," he said.

  "I think that would be smart," I said, shifting my eyes to look at the backside of a lady who had just come to stand a couple of feet from us.

  "You know we can't leave without—" he whispered the words, but before he could even get them out of his mouth, I nodded and popped up to place a soft kiss directly on his mouth. I had been wanting to do it since I laid first eyes on him, and I knew he wanted to kiss me too, so I wasn't fearful of being rejected. I leaned up, and kissed him quickly, knowing that we weren't the only two people in the small library. Theo leaned toward me when I pulled away as if he was reluctant to let me break contact. I smiled and gave him another peck on the lips, feeling like I was a kid again and my brother was just around the corner, about to catch us. My stomach was tied in knots, and I hated the fact that we were being interrupted.

  "Let me take you to lunch," he said.

  Chapter 8

  I took Theo to eat a blackened fish sandwich at one of my favorite little tiki restaurants on the beach, and we sat at a table on the patio for over two hours. He loved the vibe so much that we didn't even order food for the first hour. It was a popular place, and since it was a beautiful Saturday, there was a live band playing classic rock. Just beyond them were the steps t
hat led down to the beach. Theo and I sat there for a while, and then we ate fish sandwiches followed by key lime pie. We talked and laughed and ate as the band played classics like, I Love Rock 'n Roll, and Freebird.

  "This is America," he said, sitting back in his chair as if basking in the glory of it all. He looked around, taking in the scene and seeming satisfied. Our server had brought a couple of toothpicks with the check, and Theo had one of them sticking out of the side of his mouth. He was irresistible. I hated our distance. I didn't know how long I was going to get to see him, and I hated the fact that he was way over there. I wished we were sitting in a booth so I could sit right next to him.

  I still felt like I had to pinch myself. I couldn't believe this was the same guy from Canada. I was at least as drawn to him now as I was when I was younger, only now I realized it was also because of his kind spirit.

  We shared a lot in that couple of hours at the restaurant. I knew we had a connection, I just didn't know how that would translate with our geographical dilemma. I knew Theo liked me and I liked him, but we were still at the point where I wasn't sure what that meant just yet.

  "What are you doing after this?" I asked after we ate our pie.

  Theo shrugged and glanced around casually. "I thought I was doing whatever you're doing," he said.

  "I mean tonight and tomorrow. Where are you staying? How long are you staying? Did you say Monday?"

  He smiled at me. "I'm staying at an Airbnb in Stuart. I haven't gone by there, but it should be really nice. I've got it for tonight and tomorrow night. I was thinking I'd head back to New York on Monday. That's what my ticket says, anyway."

  "Do you want to hang out with me tonight?" I asked.

  He grinned at me as if he was amused by my question, and my heart sped up at the sight of him. "Do you want to hang out with me?" he asked, teasing me.

  "I'm asking because my brother and his wife said… they live right next door to me, and Katie was saying that if we were hungry for dinner… if we wanted them to grill burgers or…" I trailed off, feeling like it was a lot to ask for him to meet my family on day one.

  "Or what?" he asked.