The Halo Effect (Cupid Chronicles)

by Allen, Shauna

  A creak sounded from the kitchen and she shot a wide-eyed glance toward the window, wondering when Noble would be over, acknowledging for once there were some things she needed a big, strong man for. Like chasing away her fears—rational or not.

  Swallowing, she tiptoed toward the kitchen and peeked in.

  Nothing but a large slice of sunshine slanting across the linoleum and a humming refrigerator. Then she noticed the answering machine’s red blinking light. She ran over and pressed the button, nerves still alive and crawling in her stomach.

  Deep breathing filled the room before the message ended abruptly.

  She started when a pounding sounded on the door. She composed herself on the way to answer, making a mental list of every reasonable explanation—shadows and meaningless sounds and wrong numbers. Nothings.

  She ran a damp palm down her leg and opened the door, forcing herself to be calm. They eyed each other for a moment. She was sure Noble was sizing her up as a teacher. She, on the other hand, was taking all of him in, from his ponytail, faded gray T-shirt, loose sweat pants, all the way down to his totally ragged-out tennis shoes. He certainly hadn’t dressed up for her. At least he smelled clean.

  She opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

  He nodded and brushed past her. Yup, he was clean—as usual. Why did he always smell fresh from the shower? Was that just his natural scent or was he a perpetual showerer? He waited a few steps from her.

  She pointed. “We can work in the kitchen if you’re okay with that.”

  He headed that way without another word. Great. He was a regular Chatty Cathy. He was gonna be so much fun to work with. He automatically swiveled one of her kitchen chairs around and straddled it while she moved to the fridge, needing something to do with her hands.

  “Drink?”

  He shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  She pulled out the pitcher of iced tea and poured herself a glass before sitting across from him at her spot with the books, notepads, and supplies she’d already had ready for his arrival.

  She studied his face for the first time. He looked absolutely petrified. “I’m not gonna bite you, ya know.” She smiled when the lines around his eyes relaxed a fraction. “You ready to get started?”

  “As ready as I’m gonna be.”

  “Okay. So, this is what I want to do. I want to try a program called Blend Phonics. It’s simple but effective.” She shifted her pad and grabbed a pen. “And I realize you’re a grown man and I’ve no intention of babying you. But I have no idea where you are with your reading level, so I’m going to start from the beginning and we’ll work from there. From scratch. Not because I think you’re that delayed, but because I don’t know where you are, so I’m gonna treat you like I would any new student. Deal?”

  He blinked, seeming relieved. “Deal.”

  “Oh,” she smirked. “One other thing. I am the teacher here. So you need to do what I say. No sass. I won’t degrade you, but I won’t put up with any macho bullshit. I don’t have the time for it.”

  “You think I’d sass you? Teacher?” He said the last word with the hint of a flirty bite that made her stomach quiver, thankful things were getting back on an even keel.

  “Of course not. But I had to get that out there just in case you were thinking about it. I don’t teach many men, you see.”

  “Many men?”

  “Okay, I’ve never taught a man before.”

  He smiled. “Well, then I’m happy to be your first. Let’s get started.”

  He did remarkably well for his first lesson considering his fairly severe dyslexia. He paid attention and caught on quickly to the short vowels and consonants that were on the agenda for lesson one. The true test in her mind came when Tristan came be-bopping in from school. He crashed in the garage door, tossed his backpack down with a thud, and made his way straight to the fridge for a snack and a cold drink. Noble was in the middle of sounding out the word ‘sad’ when Tristan finally caught sight of him. She was afraid this would be where she’d lose him.

  They eyed each other for a moment as something unspoken passed between them. Finally, Tristan kicked the fridge shut and headed out with his Sunny D and bag of Doritos. “Hiya, Mom. Noble.”

  The television kicked on and the sounds of his wartime video game soon followed.

  “The boy has ‘sad’ eyes.”

  Her eyes flew back to Noble’s face. Huh? Oh. He’d been making a sentence with the word he’d sounded out like she’d been having him do all along. Surely he hadn’t meant . . .?

  They worked through a few more words until they’d been at it over an hour. “I think that’s enough for today,” she said. “You’re a good student.”

  “Surprised?”

  “Sort of,” she admitted.

  He shrugged and watched her as she sipped her tea. “Well, I wasn’t always a good student. I was a pretty shitty one, in fact. I told Tristan all about it the other day.”

  Shocked, she set her drink down. “You did?”

  “Hey, don’t worry, I let him know he needs to do better than I did.”

  She began collecting the things they’d used for the lesson and then poured him a drink. “What do you mean?”

  “Thanks.” He accepted it and sipped. “Well, now that I think about it, I hope you don’t mind . . .” He glanced up at her with a somewhat nervous expression. “I told him all about my shitty childhood on the rez. My mom running off, my dad dying, my drunk grandfather, dropping out of high school and running away when I was sixteen.”

  Her mind was reeling. Holy crap. She had no idea. A new admiration for him filled her as she realized all he’d been through. All he’d overcome to become the man he was. The man she was coming to lo—

  “I’m sorry, Braelyn,” he said, disrupting that dangerous thought. Thank goodness. “That was probably a mistake. My life is pretty intense.” He circled his fingertips in the condensation left by his glass. It took him a moment to go on. “It’s just that he’s hurting a lot with this stuff with his dad and we were talking and it just sorta came up.”

  Confusion panged with relief that her mind and heart had been reined in. Tristan was talking about his dad? With Noble? She expected him to be bonding with Michael. But Noble?

  “Are you upset?”

  She glanced into his anxious face. “Oh, no. Not at all. I’m glad he can talk to someone about it. He certainly doesn’t talk to me.” She watched the lines disappear between his dark eyes and realized he, too, had sad eyes. How much pain had he been hiding from the world? What he’d let her glimpse in his grandfather’s letter must only be the tip of the iceberg. Did the poor man have nobody? She thought of all she’d gotten from her grandmother’s love and her heart ached for him. She longed for him to have a taste of love in his life, even if it couldn’t be hers.

  “So you said your father passed away?”

  He nodded.

  “And your grandfather is in prison.” That wasn’t a question.

  His expression grew strained. He nodded again.

  She thought back to what he’d said earlier. “Your mom . . . ran away? So she’s alive somewhere?”

  He shifted in his chair like he’d never thought of that possibility before. He might not be alone in the world. He shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Have you looked for her?”

  “No.”

  “Have you thought about it?”

  “No.” Was that hope gleaming in his eyes? He had thought about it. She’d bet on it.

  She reached out and gripped his warm hand. “I could help you find her.”

  Chapter 20

  Noble was starving and his back ached like a bitch when he finally left the shop with a grateful stretch. He’d been hunched over for the past three and a half hours straigh
t working on the grieving man’s tattoo. The poor guy’d come in searching for Michael because he wanted a portrait tat to commemorate his dead wife, who he’d just lost to cancer after being married for thirty-seven years. Well, Mike had been out for a few days—some major emergency with his AA ‘family’—and said he’d be back when it was resolved. And Jed was busy with a butt-load of other clients. So, though it had been a while since Noble had done a portrait, he could still do a respectable job. And he couldn’t ignore the man’s pain. Every screaming muscle in his back was worth it, because that man got the best damned portrait Noble could produce tonight.

  He slid up into the cab of his truck and reached for his bottle of ibuprofen. He swallowed three gel caps without the benefit of water and leaned his head back, wondering why he’d promised Sweet Cheeks they’d work together tonight. He should call and cancel. But she had this crazy notion that he was making great progress and they needed to keep it up every possible moment, even if it drove his friggin’ libido crazy.

  They hadn’t discussed her offer of friendly sex anymore, and he was seriously considering taking her up on it because every time he saw her now he wanted to swallow her whole. But the problem with women was they may offer sex with no strings attached, but they never meant no strings attached. And this woman had a kid. That was one big, fat string. Could he trust her long enough to satisfy his appetite before she yanked that fat friggin’ string?

  Could he trust his heart to not get involved any more than it already was?

  He tamped down that thought, gunned the engine, and headed home, hoping he’d find her house dark. Maybe she’d have forgotten about their lesson tonight and gone to bed. He slowly rounded the bend of their street and took in the sights of a neighborhood readying for fall. It was early October, but several people had already put out their Halloween decorations. The kid at the end of the block who perpetually left his bike out had remembered to tuck it under the porch eave tonight. Mrs. Arnold had left her sprinkler running, the excess water now running into the street in a steady stream.

  Noble pulled into his driveway and thought about buying candy to give out for Halloween this year before remembering that he’d be working and no one would be home to give it out. Well, he could always buy a pumpkin and carve it into a Jack-o-Lantern to leave on the front porch. That’d be a first.

  He glanced next door. The light was on. Damn. Sweet Cheeks came out of her garage, illuminated in the glow of her porch light, and made her way toward him in a simple pair of jeans and tank top. Daaaamn.

  He didn’t move until she’d reached his door, which he opened with deliberate care. The scent of freshly mowed grass hit him first, which was odd this time of night.

  “Hey,” she said with a soft smile.

  He hopped down and pressed the truck door closed. “Hey. How’s it goin’?”

  “Good.” She reached out and touched his arm. “How was work? You look tired.”

  “I’m wiped.”

  Her scent invaded his personal space. Lemony tonight. “We can do this another time if you’re not feeling up to it.” She bit her lip and took a small step in his direction, trapping him between her and the truck. “Or maybe we can do something else? Besides reading?”

  His pulse tripped erratically as her words sank in. Little Noble stood at attention. Fuck yeah! “What did you have in mind?”

  Her small index finger hooked into his belt loop. “Noble. Really. Do I have to spell it out for you?” She gave a gentle yank, pulling his pelvis toward hers.

  Holy Mary, Mother of God.

  He reached out and brushed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Let’s take this inside, okay?”

  She nodded and walked with him into the house without loosening her hold on his waist.

  He kicked the door closed and reached for her, cupping her face and pulling her lips to his for a greedy kiss. The one he’d been starving for ever since she’d made her offer. And apparently so had she. She moaned and leaned into him like she was trying to crawl right inside his very skin.

  Fleetingly he wondered if he’d break her tiny body by unleashing himself on her, but that obviously wasn’t on her mind as her hands whipped along his body driving him into a frenzy.

  “Jezus, Noble,” she spoke with a pained whisper between nipping kisses. “Touch me. Touch me everywhere.”

  And he did. He ran his fingers along her neck, following with his mouth, bringing a hoarse cry from her lips. He continued down her chest where he hovered over her breasts, letting his hot breath tease her. He watched her erratic breathing strain her top as she sucked in air. He glanced up to her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted and slightly swollen from his kisses and her face as utterly turned-on as he’d ever seen.

  Slowly, her eyes slid open and met his. She reached out and threaded her fingers through his hair in a feathering, lover’s caress. “I love your hair,” she whispered. “Your deep, deep eyes. Your skin. Your heart. Everything about you, Noble.” Her fingers gently worked his scalp. “You’re perfect.”

  He pulled away as unease ran hot and heavy through his veins.

  “What’s wrong?” She watched him as he took a step back.

  Uh, strings. Fucking strings! Red fucking alert! She’d already made her feelings clear about relationships and he couldn’t freefall any further. It might break him. God, he felt like a pussy. “Nothing,” he lied. “I’m just really tired. Maybe we can get together another time?”

  She cocked a hip. “You’re a liar.”

  He pivoted and headed for the kitchen. She could see herself out. “Whatever.”

  He popped the top of a soda and took a big drink before he spun around to find her waiting impatiently at the threshold. He crooked a brow at her.

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what I did to piss you off. What? Don’t like women complimenting you on your looks? Fine, you’re a dog.”

  He set down his drink with a sigh. “I’m not pissed.”

  “But . . .?”

  But this feels too real and I can’t handle it. “But, I think we need to shelve this no-strings sex thing and just keep our friendship platonic. For now, anyway.”

  She wrinkled her brows. “But I don’t understand . . .”

  “I know. Man. Turning down free sex. Doesn’t compute. I get it. But as much as we might be attracted to each other, I don’t think it’s something you can do. You’re better than this.”

  It was silent for several moments. “So, you’re turning me down? For my own good?” She tilted her head quizzically.

  Not really, more like the other way around. But he’d let her think so. “I guess you could say that.” He barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Just don’t push it, because I don’t live up to my name too often.”

  Michael pushed open the door to Gentry’s, appreciating the familiarity of the place as the small bell tinkled overhead. He’d never been in one area on assignment this long. Well, except for the Henry fiasco, but he didn’t want to remember what had gone down in Angeldom as the “Tudor Incident.” It had taken Michael over 400 years to come to grips with the idea that it wasn’t his failure as an angel, but Henry’s fickleness and God-given free will that had done in all those love matches.

  Thankful that he got to maintain his position on God’s “Love Squad,” his eyes scanned the studio for Ariel, wondering if it was too early for his intern to have made her appearance for her shift. Maybe she was still at the nursing home. Goodness knows he’d all but abandoned her while he conferred with all the senior angels as they awaited news from Father as to their possible reassignment. Thankfully, the shakeup had taken place in Prophecy and Crossovers—apparently some angels had thought to usurp Father’s orders and wanted to start warning the humans of their imminent deaths. A big no-no in most cases. And even though their intentions had been pure and
loving, they were swiftly and severely punished and the shockwaves were still rippling throughout the Angels’ world.

  End result: Several openings available in Prophecy and Crossovers. Love Detail intact. Michael and his friends had all breathed a huge sigh of relief when the news finally came down from On High. And to think that just a few months ago he would have given it all up for a “promotion” to Messaging or Prophecy. But not anymore. No, sir. Ever since his eyes had been opened after his experience with Jed and Kyle, he was perfectly content with his position. Forever.

  Michael ambled toward the back of the studio and waved a greeting to Jed who was bent over tattooing a client. “Hey, boss.”

  Jed set his needle aside, its buzzing going silent as he grinned. “Hey, dude. Glad you’re back! Hope you got everything worked out with your friends?”

  He winked. “Sure did. Thanks.” He stepped closer and inspected the dragon tattoo taking shape on the man’s chest. “Nice. Very nice.”

  Jed wiped at the stray ink, leaving a light black streak. “Thanks.” He glanced up at Michael. “So, listen. We’re closing a little early and going out after work to celebrate. We’d like you to come.”

  “Celebrate?”

  Jed grinned and hit the foot petal to start up his needle again. “Yeah. Go talk to Kyle. She’ll fill you in.”

  Michael nodded and left Jed to his work. He found Kyle hunched over her handy dandy laptop munching on saltine crackers and sipping a ginger ale. He knocked on the doorframe to get her attention.

  She peered up, her blue eyes luminous behind her glasses. “Michael!” She jumped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you.”

  He hugged her back. “I’ve only been gone a few days, Miz Gentry,” he said, loving that he could call her by her married name.

  She stepped back and smiled into his face. “Yeah, well, this place isn’t the same without you. Tons of customers asking for you, for one thing. So, your friends? They’re okay?” she asked, concern clear in her voice.