A Heavenly Kind of Love

by Lexi Ostrow

  “And dear old dad basically told you to stay put, clearly unaware of what you’re struggling with.” His growl echoed off the studio walls. “If you don’t call her, you’re going to do something moronic like show up at her place and have to explain how you knew where she lived, and if she doesn’t attack you, you’ll fall for explaining yourself.”

  Firm in his decision, he grabbed his phone from the inner breast pocket on the sports coat. He would call her and continue to be what she needed him to be. The day might come when he could leave, or he might fall long before Cassandra no longer needed him by her side. Either way, she would have her Guardian Angel with her through everything. His selfishness washed away leaving only his duty—and his feelings for her—behind.

  Gabe tapped on her name as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose and waited as it rang and rang.

  “Hi there.” Cassandra’s voice seemed weak. There wasn’t the usual fire in it. Even when she was sad, he’d always heard passion in her voice.

  Closing his eyes, he chewed on his cheek to tone down his desire to fix something. “Hope now is okay to call.”

  Her chuckle was soft, but at least she laughed. “It is a wonderful time. Sorry, I didn’t call you again, there was a lot to get used to. I think I’m finally good enough for company. I know it’s been a couple of days, but I honestly don’t know how many. Life became a vicious circle thanks to the wonder of medicine.”

  His chest constricted and he couldn’t stop the question that followed. “Can I come take care of you?”

  She was silent. Fuck, Gabe, you are coming across like a real loser. Although it would let you slip away to save her life. That’s not you. Knock it off.

  The small pep talk was ridiculous, angels didn’t get nervous.

  Damn Humanity.

  “How about you come over for some hot cocoa, marshmallows and a Christmas movie? I’m a big fan of Christmas movies when I’m feeling down, and I haven’t watched even half as many as I’d like to this year.”

  “I can honestly say I’ve never seen one.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’ll text you the address.”

  Relief washed over him that he hadn’t scared her off. It was funny, a few days ago he’d been confident he had all the information he needed. Now, Gabe wondered what more he could learn. When Gabriel had made him rethinking vanishing, he’d began to question if Carlyle wasn’t correct after all. He had to play his cards right—both to gain her trust and then to break it when he was certain he could convince the council.

  Indecision and uncertainty were disgusting traits, and if he never felt them again after this brief stint on Earth, it would be too soon.

  “See you soon, Cass.”

  “Cass,” she laughed. “I’m shocked it took you so long to shorten my name, mister ‘I prefer Gabe.’ See you soon.”

  The line went dead, leaving him shocked that he’d gone so far as to give her a nickname. “Just figure out a way to learn more about what makes her soul work and then find a way to make her hate you before it’s too late.”

  The best laid plans . . . the ridiculous human expression sounded in his head like a children’s nursery rhyme as he snagged the borrowed coat from the hook on the wall.

  * * *

  “Get in, get her to keep revealing that beautiful soul of hers, and leave. Leave, leave, leave.” Chanting it under his breath was useless. He didn’t want to be apart from Cassandra because he was falling for her.

  Literally and figuratively.

  Time was running out to save himself, and he had to be okay with that if it saved her.

  The door swung inward quickly after he rapped on it with his knuckles and revealed the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

  Cassandra’s eyes were rimmed red, likely due to crying, but that was the only sign anything was wrong. Her black hair was loose, swinging near her waist with a brilliant shine and her smile was genuine.

  “Gabe,” she wrapped her hands on the partially open door and rested her chin on it. “I was worried you changed your mind.”

  “I stopped to pick up a few things.” Shifting, he showed her the bouquet of white roses. “White, for purity. At least, I’m hoping that’s what they stand for. You need it in your life, and if I can provide something pretty to look at, it’s a bonus. And a movie from Redbox—hope you haven’t seen Dunkirk. I always like a movie about warriors. I know we said Christmas movies, but I’m not sure I’m ready for Hallmark just yet.”

  Her laughter twinkled like bells, and she grinned wider at him. Brightness filled her eyes that he hadn’t seen since watching her in Uganda and he soared with her. It was as if he shared in her happiness, but that couldn’t be possible.

  “Thank you.” Reaching out, she took the wrapped section of the flowers and pulled the door all the way open. “Come in.”

  At her gesture he stepped in, amused to see how similar her studio was to his—only without the expensive furnishings. A small, bare Christmas tree sat tucked behind a white table, up against a bay window that was much like the one just replaced in his apartment.

  “So, the tour will be short. Boston living doesn’t come cheap as you know.” Nodding her head toward the bed against the far wall, “That’s where the sleeping happens.” Walking just behind the wall to the bed she turned directly left, to the kitchen. He enjoyed the view as he bent down and snagged a vase from under her sink, setting it down before turning on the water. “This is where I don’t cook amazing meals because I stink at cooking. Just down there, attached to the kitchen despite my horror, is the bathroom.”

  He heard the crinkle and then a tear of paper and looked at her hands to see her unbinding the flowers before putting them down.

  “That,” she nodded at a well-worn brown leather couch on a plain beige rug. “Welcome to the living room. Sorry, the TV is at the end of the bed, makes things easier and comfier. All that’s left to show is the desk.” A single box sat next to the couch, the top flap open and revealing red and silver ornaments.

  She walked past him, and as she put her hands down on the white vintage style desk, her shoulders sagged. His hearing human hearing narrowly missed her low sigh.

  “This is the desk where I’ve planned every single mission to every orphanage.” Her hands grasped a stack of papers, and when she turned, thin lines of mascara dripped down her cheeks thanks to tears. “I don’t know if I’ll ever plan one again.”

  Her voice cracked with the words and her knees buckled. Gabe watched, frozen in shock, as Cassandra hunched over the desk, sobs visibly wracking her body. There was only one thing he could do for her—as human or Guardian Angel.

  In two strides he crossed the small apartment, put his hand on her shoulder and spun her to face him before grasping her small body against his. Her pain cut through the room like a knife. It bothered him, and he knew it had nothing to do with the small tie he still felt as her guardian. Cassandra mattered to him. Her pain was his pain.

  “Shh. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s okay.” His hand stroked her hair in a steady rhythm as her body continued to shake against his.

  He was overwhelmed with a surge of protectiveness, and he held her tighter. He hadn’t been with her in weeks to see how she fared behind closed doors, but something told him this was the first time she’d truthfully realized her career was over indefinitely.

  They stood there, him stroking her hair and sometimes her back, her crying against him, for more than ten minutes. When she finally looked up, he didn’t let her pull away, just stared into her blue eyes.

  “Don’t apologize.” His lips grazed hers. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

  Her laugh was unexpected. “I am fairly certain that you must think I’m bipolar. One moment I’m telling you I’m not interested, the next I’m texting you to come out. Then I’m draped over you kissing you like I was going to rip your pants off in the middle of the street, and now I’m crying all over your expensive sweater.”

&nbs
p; “Causality of liking women. Your mood swings are something else.” He quirked, hoping to make her smile.

  Her face lit up with a genuine grin. “I’m going to let that go because I know all men think that. Plus, it makes me not seem like an imbalanced hormonal mess that I know I am.”

  The small snort she gave was quite possibly the most adorable thing he’d ever heard in his two thousand plus years of life. He looked down, realizing how perfectly she fit in his arms for the first time. Everything about a guardian and his or her charge was supposedly always the best possible match. There’d never been a reason for him to believe it, until now. Each time he was with her, he learned so much more about himself.

  “I think I might have bumped into you on the train the other day specifically for this purpose.” His lips curved into a smile as he spoke. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t an accidental meeting.

  “So, about that movie?” Cassandra stepped back, wiping at her eyes and then rubbing her hands on her pants.

  He looked to the box of ornaments. Christmas was coming, and he had a feeling her cancer was the reason she hadn’t decorated the tree. “How about I put it on, but we agree to make this place feel a little bit more like it’s almost the holidays.”

  She froze, wrapping her arms around herself. “I wasn’t certain if there was a reason to decorate. I’m not religious, and well, there’s not a lot to be merry and bright about this year.”

  Gabe found it fascinating how quickly she spiraled from happy to sad. Every single emotion seemed to pass through her at hyper speed. He found it unfortunate. She was obviously afraid to live in the moment. You can fix that.

  “Let’s take it one moment at a time. Merry and bright can come from a lot of things. Like, say finding a handsome man who is extremely interested in continuing to get to know you.” He playfully bumped his shoulder into hers.

  It earned him a smile.

  “Deal. Only, you can’t judge me for my lack of originality.” She started to walk to the box and stopped. “I never took your coat.”

  Chuckling, he slid his arms from the jacket and turned to find three hooks near the front door. “You were giving me the grand tour. I won’t hold it against you.” Hanging up the coat, he slipped his hand inside and grabbed the flimsy DVD case, extending his hand to pass it to her.

  “You didn’t agree to not judge me.”

  Her back was to him as she walked to the TV and he couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips. Cassandra was beautiful and seductive. Had she ever taken a moment to do anything but work he would have been a far less lucky man. If he had to worry about losing his wings, at least she was everything an angel wanted - beauty, brains, and kindness.

  “Gabriel?”

  “That’s my father’s name.” An edge to his words shocked even him. “Sorry, I’m pretty particular about people not mixing us up.” No, you’re pretty particular about the human you want to save not mixing you up with your bigger and better father.

  The TV turned on, but he wasn’t really interested in watching. The box was a few quick steps away, and when he pulled back the water-damaged cardboard flap, he smirked.

  “You weren’t kidding.” Still smirking, he looked up at her. “No judgment.” He’d never decorated a tree himself, but her box looked like something straight out of a movie.

  Red and silver balls with hanging hooks already in them shined in the terrible lighting. Moving them, he uncovered a small patch of metallic green ornaments to match. A mangled strand of what once must have been silver garland lay in a clump at the bottom of the box.

  “Shall I just dive in then? Pull some of these tragic decorations out?”

  “They’re not tragic!” She was grinning as she pushed him aside. “Some of these are from before I was ever adopted.” Reaching down into the box she pulled out a single gold ornament that looked to have been fished from the very bottom of the carton.

  “Care to tell me about it? My dad’s a real prick, but he was always there for me. My mother too. She’s gone now, but I had what you’d consider a normal childhood.” Or as normal as a Battle Angel born of two Archangels could have.

  “I don’t remember a lot of the earlier years. The time before my first foster family, but I recall the ones after. It’s impossible not to remember being returned as if you were a faulty product.”

  Her voice didn’t waver when she spoke. It spoke volumes of her courage.

  “I was nine. It was a little over two month’s until my birthday, and they dropped me off with this gold ball like giving me a Christmas ornament made it okay.” She lifted the ornament, her hands shaking slightly. “I don’t know why I’ve never thrown it away. There’s so much darkness held up in this damn thing.” Shrugging, she moved to the tree and hung it directly in the center. “But it reminds me that I survived it.” She frowned. “I wonder if they have ornaments for surviving cancer.”

  “That sounds like a pretty damn good one to find in a few months. For next year.” He passed her a red ball. “What was it like? Being passed around as a child.”

  He’d seen the memories in her file, but that didn’t explain how each memory had felt to her, or how they molded her.

  “Awful. I never had more than what I could fit into a suitcase token wise. My clothing wasn’t terrible, but it was never bought for me. They’d come in once a month with a bulk shopping spree of sorts. Things were sorted by size, and we were able to select certain things.” She turned away for a moment to hang the ball and then looked back. “My suitcase full of things was literally a stuffed black dog that I was sent to the orphanage with when I was dropped off, a baby blanket and I think my retainer when I got old enough.” Flashing him a smile to show off her teeth she took another ornament from him. “The rest is just a slew of broken hearts, all mine of course.”

  “I’ve never had a broken heart.” He walked his silver ball over to the tree and dangled it off a branch near the window.

  She scoffed. “Of course you haven’t. You’re sexy, smell like money, could probably charm the pants off anyone and are chivalrous. Pretty sure women fall behind you.”

  “I’ve never had a broken heart because I’ve never let anyone get close enough. I’ve never stuck around long enough either.”

  She paused, her gaze staring into his. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be telling that the to the woman you’re sort of dating.”

  “Oh, are we sort of dating?” Grinning, he hit the button on the remote when he walked by it to swap from the menu to the movie. “Here I thought we were dating.” Smiling, he leaned over and kissed her. Tension sizzled at the quick touch. “That is the reason why I’m not going anywhere. I enjoy the way that makes me feel.”

  She flushed a bright red that almost rivaled the ball in her hand.

  “You know the right things to say. Always.”

  “It’s sort of my thing.” He started pulling at the garland, tearing off many loose ends as it came out of the box in a knot. “How old were you when you found a permanent home?”

  “I was thirteen. They were lovely people. I was in foster care with them for a year before they adopted me.” Sadness touched the words. “I had such a short time with them before a car fire took them from me.”

  Hearing her say the words brought the agony to life. Loss etched its way into her expression as she sort of curled in on herself, tucking herself away as she sat on the couch. He couldn’t ignore the tightening in his chest. Once again, as her pain was his, so was the grief coursing through her. Grief he caused by bringing this up.

  It’s to save her life.

  “I’m so sorry.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The action felt right. He had never done it before, but it was as if he had.

  “Life seems to have a fun way of throwing me a bone. It sort of dangles it there, like in those stupid cartoons when it’s on a fishing pole with a bone tied to the dog’s collar.” She sucked in a deep breath, her cheeks quivering as she did. “I just wanted to do someth
ing good. I wanted all the years of sitting alone on holidays to add up to something.”

  Her hands balled into fists. One glance at her and he could see the shaky hold she had on her control. Cassandra was going to rage or fall apart again. He was doing this to her. His questions.

  For the first time in his life, personal sadness crept into his scope of being. It was uncomfortable, the way it wrapped around him like a clammy hand. There had never been a connection like the one he shared with her, and suddenly, exploiting it, even to save her life, was horrifying.

  He couldn’t do anything to take away the damage he’d started spiraling, but he could fix it though. Or at least try. Dropping the garland, he moved to the couch and tugged her up, wrapping his hands around her waist but not pulling her in close.

  “Don’t think about the bad memories. Think about the ones you’ll create—for yourself and the kids you help.”

  He kissed her. A gentle glide of his lips over hers as he held her in his arms. He gave himself into the kiss, not just for Cassandra, but for himself. There was so much more he wanted to do with her, so much more he wanted to be for her. As his hands moved steady circles over her back and hers wrapped around his neck, his world shattered.

  Good and bad melted away. Battle wings and guardian wings meant utterly nothing. He existed only in the current moment to see the future between the pair of them. The one he would have come hell or high water once he saved his life.

  He tried to calm his panting breathing when he pulled back from their kiss. Shock glistened in the depths of her eyes when she opened them. Realization crashed over him and panic set in. He’d tried to run from this, and it had caught up to him. His fall had caught up to him.

  “I’m so sorry, Cassandra.” He let her go, turning abruptly and tripping over his feet as he moved for the door. “I have to go.” The door jerked open as he spoke and stepped out. “I’ve got to go.”

  Seventeen

  A breeze literally blew at her when Gabe frantically slammed the door to her place. A dense thud still rang in her ears. She heard nothing else. Not even the movie that Gabe left behind, still playing.