“No.”
“No?” She turned from the sink with water dripping from her hands.
He dropped his fork onto his empty plate. “You heard me. No. You’re not going to be doing any work today, and you’re definitely not locking yourself away in your room. I didn’t bring you all the way out here to work you to death.”
“Oh. Well, I thought . . .”
He stood and brought his plate to the sink. “What did you think?”
She searched his eyes as he closed in. “I thought, after last night . . .” She took a breath. “I thought it best if I back off and just do my work and give you some space.”
He placed both hands on the counter on either side of her, closing her in. “You thought you’d give me space?”
Her eyes drifted to his lips, then back up. “I made you angry. And I’m here to work.”
He stepped back and she drew in a breath. “I owe you an apology for last night, Muffet.”
“You do?”
“Yes. And an answer to your question.” He looked her in the eye. Now that the time had come, the words wanted to stick in his throat.
She picked up his mug and turned to rinse it. “You don’t owe me anything, Jed.”
He was thankful that she had her back to him. He wasn’t sure he could take the look in her eyes as he spoke. “Kierstan and I were together. Engaged, actually.”
Kyle didn’t acknowledge he had spoken. She continued to rinse the dishes.
“She cheated on me with a tattoo artist I had working with me. When I found out, let’s just say I sent him packing.” He left out the most painful pieces. He couldn’t say them out loud. Not yet.
Now, she turned from the sink. “Why are you telling me this?”
He gave a half shrug. “Because you asked and I’m getting tired of not answering. She’s like a lead fucking weight around my neck.”
She furrowed her brows, confused. “Why? Why don’t you just get rid of her? Can’t you fire her?”
“That’s the real kick in the balls, Muffet. When we were planning our rosy future together, we bought Gentry’s. Together. She owns forty percent and she won’t sell it back to me.” He rolled his head back and gazed at the ceiling. “She’s like a leech, sucking the life from me every day. She cheated. She didn’t want me, but she won’t leave either.”
He watched as everything he told her registered across her face. He would’ve expected her to run screaming in the other direction or shake her head in disgust. He was, after all, the big scary looking guy who was permanently chained to the lecherous bitch-whore who’d shredded what little heart he had.
No, instead, her eyes filled with empathetic tears as she did the thing he least expected. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him.
She pressed her soft lips to his neck. “I always knew she was a skanky bitch,” she whispered and he felt the curve of her smile against his skin.
He laughed. “Where were you when I could’ve used that warning?”
She pulled back, her arms still looped around his waist. “Still slummin’ it on the country club circuit?”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “So, Muffet, as much as I’d love to have my way with you right here in the kitchen—” He waited to see if he’d get the desired reaction—he did—“we should get out and do something today now that we’ve gotten all that serious stuff out of the way.”
She flushed adorably and tried to pull away but he held her tight. “Do something?” She looked everywhere but at him. “Like what?”
He released her and she nearly stumbled. “I dunno.” He glanced out the window toward the lake. “Ever been fishing?”
“Fishing?”
He grinned. That was a great idea. He hadn’t been fishing in ages. “Yes. You know, you have a pole and you throw your line in the water and hopefully reel in a fish.” He wondered if the fishing guide service he’d used before was still in business. There were great and served a pretty tasty lunch too as he recalled. He’d have to see if he could dig up a business card or find them in the yellow pages.
She planted a hand on her cocked hip. “Yes, I know what fishing is, smart ass. And I’ve even done it a time or two.”
“So, you wanna go?”
She studied his eyes for a moment. “Sure. Why not? I’ll go get dressed.”
She left him to make the arrangements. He dug through the kitchen junk drawer and found a yellowed card for Em-N-Em’s Fishing Guide Service. He dialed the number and walked to the window while it rang.
A short while later, a very sweet lady named Irene informed him that they were booked solid for the day but they were more than welcome to join them tomorrow. She was even kind enough to suggest some sights in the area and some restaurants.
“They filmed The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in that house before it became the Highlander Restaurant, you know,” she said to try and tempt him with a smile in her voice. “Very cool. And the food’s not half bad.”
“Yeah, thanks,” he said before hanging up.
He pivoted on his heel when he heard Kyle’s footsteps. She’d been cute in her robe this morning and adorable in her shorts and tank top yesterday. But, wowza, she was smokin’ in this morning’s getup. Tight jeans, simple white T-shirt, baseball cap. Every man’s fantasy. Or at least his.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Small problem. The fishing guide is booked today. I’ve got us in for tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She pointed to the window. “Well, can’t we just go down to the dock and do it here?”
“We could, but the other is much more fun. Plus you’ll get to see more of the lake that way.”
“Oh. Okay.” She rubbed her hands along her thighs, making his mouth water. “Then what’ll we do today?”
“Well . . .” He caught her eye. “Ever seen Texas Chainsaw Massacre?”
Michael ran through the pouring rain and into the weekly AA meeting with Uri directly on his heels. The skinny little dude nearly bowled him over. “Look out, man.”
Uri peered up at him through his fogged-up lenses. “Sorry.”
Mike stepped out of the way and let him pass. Uri obviously had something pressing on his mind today. Mike watched as Gabriel immediately called him over for a hushed conversation. Uri made exaggerated hand motions and appeared downtrodden, nodding vehemently and indicating his direction once. Mike quickly took his seat and tried to act nonchalant. What could they be talking about?
Uri was wiping his bloodshot eyes as he slunk into his seat a few minutes later.
“What’s going on, dude?” Michael whispered.
Uri shot him a tired glance. “I think I might be out of Love Detail before I’ve even started.”
“What? Why?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Turns out I’m a better Devil than angel,” he said, quoting Michael. “Now neither of my human assignments will speak to me so I can no longer do my job.” He took a ragged breath. “I’m done.”
Michael felt the guilt weighing him down to his seat. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. I never thought . . .” He glanced to the front of the room. “What did Gabe say?”
“That we’d discuss it during the meeting. Whatever that means.”
“Oh . . .”
Gabriel banged his gavel and called the meeting to order as the doors locked and the light shone down upon him making him look every bit the angel he was. His golden gaze took everyone in. “Attention!” he called, his tone unusually harsh. “Can I have everyone’s attention!” He waited until the room was silent.
Michael felt prickles of apprehension up his spine. He hadn’t meant to harm Uri’s assignment. Had he inadvertently broken a Commandment? He turned his eyes downward in shame.
“I will start with this week’s
updates,” Gabe began, his voice booming like Moses’s the day he’d parted the Red Sea. “Uriel. I know you’ve hit a bit of a stumbling block in communication with your humans, but I’m pleased to report that I have heard from other sources that Bethany and Steven have, in fact, hit it off and are now dating.”
Michael felt Uri sit up a bit straighter in his seat. “But,” Gabe continued, his tone still firm, “this does not excuse what you did to alienate them. You were dangerously close to breaking the Fifth Commandment though you were unintentional about it.” He held up a hand to stop the questions before they came. “I know you did not question nor impugn Father’s will, but you were very close to not fulfilling your mission to the very best of your God-given ability. Don’t let it happen again.”
“No, Gabriel. I won’t.” Uri took a breath. “Does that mean I get to stay?”
“Of course. You will be reassigned after the meeting.”
Uri sagged in relief. “Thank you so much. I will do better this time, I promise.”
“I certainly hope so.”
They moved around the room, everyone else giving their accounts of progress or, in some cases, steps backward.
“Michael?” Gabriel spoke, jolting him. “You’re the last one. Do you have any news for us?”
Everyone was staring at him. He just wanted to get the heck out of there. He was still feeling ashamed for what he’d nearly done to poor Uri. He dared a glance at Gabe. “Well, uh, you know . . .”
Gabe dipped a brow. “No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell us?”
He remembered how Kyle looked the evening she and Jed came in after having dinner together. Mike was no mind reader, but he would’ve sworn something was different between them. And Miz O’Neill looked different somehow. Like maybe she’d been kissed. At least he wanted to think so.
“Well, Michael?” Gabe prompted.
He bit the inside of his cheek. “Oh, right. Well, Miz O’Neill and Jed went away together this weekend to work. At the lake.”
“Alone?”
He nodded and couldn’t help smiling. He’d been thrilled when he heard the news and more than a little impressed with himself for concocting that little ‘computer virus’ to make it happen.
Gabe grinned right back at him. “Excellent! Very romantic. Things are moving along very nicely there, I’d say. Well done, Brother.”
He accepted his congratulations as the meeting came to a close and tried to ignore the bittersweet feelings that were threatening. Because it was one thing to do a job well. It was quite another to know that he must leave when it was done.
Jed and Kyle trudged back into the lake house at twilight with sore feet and a bag full of Kyle’s antique store finds. Treasures, she’d called them. He called it junk. He set it down with a sigh. Who needed crap painted on old pieces of tin anyway?
She turned to him with a smile and a flush riding high on her cheeks. “That house wasn’t spooky at all.”
He took a load off and propped his ankle on his knee. “No. But I guess they’re not going for spooky. It’s a restaurant now. It just happens to be a tourist thing because it’s the old house they used for the Chainsaw movie. It doesn’t even look the same to me.”
She shrugged as she rifled through her packages. “I wouldn’t know. Never saw it.”
He gaped at her. “So you really never saw Texas Chainsaw Massacre? It’s a classic.”
She rolled her eyes as she pulled out the ugly tin thing. “Somehow I doubt that. But the food was good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled as she kept pulling out more ugly stuff. “I had a good time today, Jed. The caverns were lovely.” She shot him a Cheshire Cat grin. “The antique stores were fabulous.”
Oh, the pain. But he had enjoyed watching her wiggle in her jeans all day. He needed a cold shower and a beer. “I’m glad you had a good time, Muffet. It was water-boarding torture for me.”
She swatted his arm. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. I saw you having a not horrible time today.”
“Oh, really?” He grabbed her by the wrist and felt her pulse jump. “How could you tell?”
She licked her bottom lip and hesitated. “You smiled. Once.”
He’d been teasing himself by watching her all day. He needed to be close to her. He stood, making her look up at him. “Must’ve been an oversight on my part. It won’t happen again.”
“I hope that’s not true,” she said in a hoarse whisper, her eyes intent on his.
He needed to be closer. He stepped toward her until their thighs touched.
She reached out and gripped his forearms. Blinking slowly, she tipped her chin up ever so slightly in a silent invitation.
He needed to taste her. He bent his head and nibbled her lower lip. She opened her mouth to receive him and he delved in wholeheartedly. There was no time for sweet or gentle. In a flash as brilliant as a star being born, there was a mating of tongues and flesh, and they discovered each other. Here. Now.
Her hands wound feverishly around his back and hips, finding their way under his shirt to the skin of his waist.
He moved to suckle at the flesh of her neck, just behind her ear, knowing it drove her crazy. She tilted her head, giving him better access, and he was rewarded with soft moans of pleasure as her fingernails scraped his abdomen. He pulled back, found her lips with his own, just long enough to tease, then moved to the other side of her throat and did it again.
“Oh, my, Jed.” She sighed his name.
He could do this all night. Maybe not.
Her hot little hands found their way up to his chest and grazed a nipple. He inched back to her lips and drew her tongue into his mouth and she responded in kind, her lips demanding he give all. Her body bucked against his as he held her close, her stomach rubbing erotically against his painfully hard erection.
He pulled back and studied her face. She was flushed with arousal, her lips plump from being thoroughly kissed. God, he wanted her. Now.
“Come here,” he ground out as he lifted her to sit on the kitchen table so he could stand between her legs. He dragged her forward so she was on the very edge, her pelvis right up against his. The only things keeping her from his hard-on were their jeans and her panties.
He found her lips again as his hands found her breasts. She moaned from deep in her chest and leaned into his hands, offering him all of her. And he took it with no regrets. He massaged the full, sexy weight of her and found the hardened tips with the pad of his thumbs. He brushed over them and she gave a little sigh. He did it again, more forcefully, as he ground his erection against her and she cried out.
She reached around his waist and pulled him even closer, urging him on. Again.
He focused on one breast, taking his time to give her nipple a gentle roll.
“Oh, my God.” Her head fell back.
He took the opportunity to let her go and reach for the hem of her T-shirt. Her head snapped up when she realized what he was doing. He watched her eyes. It only took her a moment to acquiesce. She raised her hands above her head and let him remove her shirt.
He looked at her for the first time and had to catch his breath. “Jezus, Kyle.”
Automatically she crossed her arms to hide herself. “What’s wrong?”
He grabbed her arms and uncrossed them. “No, don’t do that. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because.” He bent and pressed a wet kiss to the dip between her breasts. “My, God, woman. You’re beautiful.”
Another wet kiss, then a lick trailing across the top. “And I never . . .”
Suckle. “Ever.”
Deep, wet suckle. “Knew you were hiding this under those prim, proper work clothes, Muffet.”
H
e closed his mouth over the lace-covered nipple as he fingered the strap of the sexy pink bra.
“Ohhhh . . .” she sighed.
He moved to give the other nipple his attention and she nearly bucked off the table. Her hands wound around his neck, pulling his lips to hers, and she kissed him with a fierceness that matched his own.
He pressed her back, using a hand to shove the remnants from the shopping trip off the table. Once he was above her, he pressed his groin into hers, making her writhe and moan beneath him as her hands frantically clawed at his skin.
He thought he was going to burn alive.
“Easy now, baby,” he panted as he eased back and pressed a kiss to the curve of her breast. Then her ribcage. Her belly. She quivered in response, her skin pricking in goose bumps.
He pulled back far enough to reach for the button of her jeans, his fingers grazing the skin of her stomach as he slowly unsnapped it. His eyes slid up to hers as the button gave way. He reached for the zipper.
“Do your panties match your bra?” he asked, his voice gruff with need.
Her hand reached down to cover his. He thought she would stop him now. In some deep, rational part of his brain he knew this was sheer madness.
But she didn’t stop him. She linked her fingers with his and helped him open the zipper. The sound echoed through the kitchen like the ripcord of a parachute in a canyon.
His mouth went bone dry. Her panties did match, and he could see right through the sheer pink lace. He bent and pressed his lips to the edge where they met her flesh, bringing a hoarse cry from her lips.
Her hands reached blindly for him as she tried to guide him back up to her. “Please,” she begged. “I need . . .”
He ran his fingers beneath the elastic band of her panties. Then his tongue. Her hips surged off the table. “What do you need, baby?”
Inked by an Angel Page 17
