He looks at me then reaches over and strokes a finger down my cheek. “You look tired, Angel. Please tell me you’re not working non-stop.”
“Do you want the truth?” At his nod I say, “I haven’t stopped working since I got the news yesterday.”
“Are you caught up at least?” he asks.
“Yes. They’ve seen the patients who had to be seen and rescheduled the others until the doctor can return to work, which won’t be for several weeks at least.”
“What about your other clients? Are you current with them?” At my nod he says, “Then when we’re done eating, you’re going to go lay down.”
“I can’t do that, Loki, it’s the middle of the day.” Never mind that I typically cat nap throughout the day or the fact that I’m exhausted. I feel like I need to protest.
“So? You told me before that you nap during the day. I think you’ve more than earned one.”
“But what about your shop?” I ask. “Don’t you have clients of your own you need to take care of?”
“That’s what I’m doing, Angel.” His soft reply to my question and the look in his eyes tells me that he’s being serious right now.
“I just put a spaghetti sauce on to simmer,” I admit, still unwilling to cave. Thankfully, I made the meatballs and cooked them as well as some Italian sausage the night before.
“I’m sure I can stir it while you rest,” he says, grinning at me.
“Oh alright.” Other than Momma M and of course, Patsy, no one has ever cared about me. Hope flares deep inside; it’s a small flicker, but if he keeps doing little things like this, it’s going to turn into a raging inferno.
“Glad you see it my way,” he teases, winking at me. Once we’re finished and the kitchen is cleaned up, he asks, “Can I see the boys?”
“Oh! Yes.” They’ve quickly worked their way into my life, and I enjoy them chirping and singing as I work. He takes my hand as though it’s perfectly natural and I walk us to my office. Since I was cooking, the birds are in their cage, but the blinds are up and the two of them are on their perches avidly watching what’s happening in the back yard.
“They getting on okay?”
“Yes. During the day, I close my door so they can fly around. Most of the time, they hang out on the top of my computer and watch the words form.” His chuckle sends a shiver through me as it lends an intimacy to the situation I wasn’t aware existed.
“Well, off you go, Angel. Go get some rest.” When he sees I’m about to argue again despite my earlier acquiescence, he adds, “Please? For me?”
I don’t know where the desire to make him happy wells up from, but I nod and walk out of my office. “If anything comes up and you need to go, please do so.”
“Nothing’s going to come up, CeeCee.”
As I close my bedroom door then slip under the covers, my last thought as sleep claims me is that he’s such a nice guy.
It didn’t take me long to fall asleep so when I wake up, I’m disoriented as hell. Getting up, I make my way into the bathroom to take care of my aching bladder. While washing my hands, I glance in the mirror and nearly shriek. Apparently, I slept hard, so my hair is sticking out everywhere. Once I have it tamed into a semblance of normalcy, I head out into the house to see how the spaghetti sauce has fared under Loki’s care.
I stop in the hallway when I hear the murmur of voices, not wanting to intrude. When I hear Patsy, I realize that she’s likely putting Loki through an inquisition based on what I hear her say. “She’s not some toy, Loki, so if you’re truly not interested in her, please don’t string her along,” my best friend says.
“I realize that, Patsy, and that’s not my intention at all,” he firmly states. “Now, the sauce is done so tell me where the pasta is, and I’ll get it going since the water is now boiling.” He doesn’t sound angry, which hopefully means she wasn’t too pushy.
“It’s in the pantry,” I say, walking into the room. They’re both in the kitchen with Patsy squared off a bit. I can tell from the set of her shoulders she’s all set to throw down only I don’t understand why. He’s been nothing but kind and solicitous toward me since we met. “The sauce smells wonderful,” I state walking over to the stove. I feel like I’m rambling right now, trying to break the tense atmosphere somewhat. As I stir the sauce, I see Loki walk over to the pantry. I grin because I have more than one kind of pasta.
“Which one are you in the mood for?” he asks, holding up the penne and also the angel hair.
“Penne, I think. I’ll grab the Texas toast,” I reply, turning the oven on. I hear Patsy huff in annoyance but when I turn to see what the hell her problem is, she has left the kitchen. “What’s going on?” I ask Loki as he pours the pasta into the boiling water.
He sighs while scrubbing a hand across his face. “I’m not really sure, to be honest. She came in while you were sleeping, and everything seemed okay. Then after she went to her room for a bit, she came back out and started questioning my motives.”
I’m horrified that she would do that! I mean, she’s always been protective toward me, but Loki has been nothing but honorable around me. Even today, he made me go rest after finding out I had barely slept the past few days. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, embarrassment staining my cheeks red. Not that I have a mirror, but I can feel the heat coursing through me.
He gently turns me so I’m looking at him. “Angel, I get it. She’s to you like my brothers are to me. She’s right to question my intentions where you’re concerned.”
“What? Why?” I question.
“Because I want to get to know you better. I want to take you out, wine and dine you, eventually kiss you,” he states.
Even though hope has fully blossomed in my heart, I shake my head in denial at his words. “Loki, I’m not-not good enough for you,” I stammer.
“I think you’re perfect the way you are, Angel,” he replies. “What you see as scars, what we’re going to cover with that wicked tattoo, are a testament to the strength you have within you. You survived that, CeeCee. You. No one else. I know your friend’s mom got you out of there, but you withstood having someone who should’ve cared for you from the moment you drew your first breath hurting you. You’re kind and gentle. You genuinely care about others which you proved by working non-stop for one of your doctors like you did.”
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I reply.
“Say you’re interested in seeing where this goes,” he says. “Because I like what I know so far and think that’ll only grow the longer we know one another. I’ve never felt an instantaneous attraction to anyone like I have with you. And I’ve never dated someone I do tattoos on.”
“Never?” I ask. I can’t believe that because he’s such a nice man. Maybe a little rough around the edges with his beard and tattooed body, but there’s a gentleness in his touch, a compassion in his eyes that tells me he’s being sincere. At least about being attracted to me.
“Nope,” he retorts. “I heard your voice and my body reacted. Meeting you and getting a glimpse at the hell you endured told me that you understand that everyone has scars whether you can see them or not.”
“I know that nobody’s perfect.”
“Angel, all of us in the club deal with varying levels of PTSD from our time in the military. Some of us are worse than others but regardless, you understand in a way that others might not that healing is a process, a journey.”
“I hate that any of you deal with that,” I murmur. My therapist explained that some of the quirks I developed were a result of PTSD from my mother’s abuse. “It’s not fun waking up covered in sweat after a nightmare.”
“No, it’s not. Or finding yourself in a closet protecting yourself from enemies that are long gone,” he advises. My heart breaks imagining any of the men who served with him dealing with that and I can’t help the tears that well up. “Shh, Angel, no need to cry.”
Loki
The fact that she’s crying for men she doesn’t know tells m
e her tender heart wasn’t wholly destroyed by her bitch of a mother. As I pull her into my arms, the rightness of how she feels settles over me. “I know it’s too soon to say this, but you’re going to be an important part of my life, Angel,” I murmur. “You already are.” The little time we’ve spent together has eased a darkness that I wasn’t aware I still carried.
“I-I-I..” she blows out a frustrated breath then tries again. “I think you might be a little crazy for wanting to get involved with me, but hopefully, I’ll hook you on my baking and humor so you decide to hang around.”
Her words cause me to start chuckling and soon, I’m laughing out loud. Before I can reply, I hear the unmistakable hiss of water hitting the stove, so I pull away to deal with the pasta. “Go sit, Angel, I’ll get this served up in a minute.”
“You’ll need the colander. It’s in that cabinet over there,” she replies, pointing to the one closest to the stove.
“I got it, CeeCee.”
“Fine, fine,” she replies, grinning at me.
As I move around the kitchen getting everything together, I remind her that I’ll be picking up my bearded dragons the next day. “One of my brothers helped me build their habitat,” I say.
“Oh, I bet it’s awesome,” she replies.
Once I set everything on the table, including the freshly grated cheese, I pull my phone out and go to my picture gallery. “Look,” I say, holding the phone out to her.
I watch the play of emotions cross her face as she flips through the pictures. “This is so badass,” she whispers.
“They’ll probably do their own thing, but I wanted them to have the option,” I reply. “Plus, they can sometimes get big, so I want them to have that room, you know?”
“I can’t wait to see them in it,” she says. My dick, of course, completely misses the memo that she’s talking about the beardies. Instead, he hardens almost painfully at the thought she’s talking about being in our room. I shake my head and discreetly adjust myself while she looks at the pictures again.
“Once they’re settled, I’ll bring you to the clubhouse,” I promise.
“I’d like that,” she replies. “Do you want to watch a movie when we’re done?”
“Yeah.” We finish our meal, talking as if we’ve known each other for years, something I’m glad is happening because I’m getting more and more of an insight into her the longer we spend time with each other.
“No, no, no!” she says, tossing a piece of popcorn at me. We’re on her couch, both of us slouched on either end with our feet tangled up somewhere in the middle. I just told her that Colin Ferrell was better than Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall. “Arnold totally rocked that part. I’m so tired of Hollywood remaking movies instead of coming up with something new.”
“You do realize that most stories are a rehash of something, right?” I ask. “There’s really no idea that hasn’t been thought of, at least in some capacity.”
“Then they need to reinvent the wheel so to speak. It’s frustrating to see old favorites remade with new actors and actresses. Like Overboard. That’s a damn classic with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, yet they redid the whole story! Some of the funniest scenes were in the original, like when the kids got poison ivy then she got it, or when she sprayed them all with the kitchen sprayer.”
I’m not as much of a movie buff as she apparently is, but I have to agree, that movie was funny as hell. “I can agree with you on that one, but there are others where the remake was better,” I argue.
“Which one?” she questions.
“Any of the Batman movies except the one with George Clooney in it,” I advise. “In fact, that Ben Affleck guy played a better Batman. Clooney should’ve stuck to romance movies.”
Her giggles have me grinning. “I kind of agree with you on that one,” she admits. “But not this one.”
I grab the bowl of popcorn and stand. “We’ll agree to disagree, Angel. Let me get this taken care of then I need to run so you can get some sleep. I need you rested for Monday, after all.”
As she straightens the living room, I toss the popcorn remnants in the trash then put the bowl in the dishwasher. Seeing that it’s full, I look under the sink and find the pods, so I pop it in and start the wash cycle. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says, coming into the kitchen with our empty soda cans.
“Wasn’t a hardship, CeeCee,” I reply. “Walk me to the door?” She nods and I take her hand in mine, once again feeling the zap of electricity as our hands touch. Once at the door, I pull her into my arms. “Gonna kiss you, Angel, as long as you’re okay with that.” She nods moving closer as I lean down and capture her lips with mine. Despite her temerity and inexperience, she makes up for it with enthusiasm and I lose myself committing her taste to my memory. After long moments, I pull back slightly while brushing her hair back from her face. “Liked that a great deal, Angel.” My voice is low, husky as need courses through my body.
“I did too, Loki,” she shyly admits as her face pinkens.
“Be sure to lock up. Once I have the girls, if you’re free, I’d love for you to come meet them.”
“Just let me know.”
I kiss her nose and reply, “Absolutely.”
Chapter Seven
CeeCee
“Are you mad at me?” Patsy asks from my office doorway.
“Why would I be mad? Loki helped me understand why you were acting the way you were. I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, Patsy, I really do. But just like everyone else, I have to make mistakes sometimes,” I reply.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” she says, walking inside and moving to the bird’s cage. Because I’m doing laundry between job tasks, they’re still in their cage. “They’re so expressive. I didn’t think birds would be like that,” she states.
“These guys may eventually talk, too,” I tell her, saving my latest job. “Do you want to go do something?”
“Like what?” she questions.
“I don’t know, we could go shopping, to the movies, out to eat. Pick one or all.”
“How about we just get in the car and decide?” she asks.
“I approve of that plan. Let me go change.” I’m in my normal at-home ensemble of an oversized T-shirt and pair of leggings.
“Don’t change. You can pull that look off in public. Me? Not so much,” she teases.
“Whatever. You’re beautiful and you know it,” I retort, standing to go grab shoes. As I’m almost out the door, I could swear I hear her whisper, ‘So are you’ but I refuse to turn around and ask. Once in my room, I quickly run a brush through my hair and pull it back, then slip on my Crocs. They may be ugly as hell, but they’re comfortable and I suspect we’ll be doing some walking around.
Hours later, we return home with our arms laden with bags. “Do you want me to order a pizza?” she asks once we’re inside.
“Uh, just to say but we had popcorn and nachos at the movies,” I remind her. “Aren’t you worried about all those carbs and calories?” She’s always on this diet or that one. Even though both Momma M and I have told her she’s absolutely perfect just the way she is, because she deals with body dysmorphia, she doesn’t see herself the way others do. It started when we were teenagers; thankfully Momma M knew enough to get her in for help but even with the medication she takes and the therapy she had, she still struggles.
“Nope. Calories consumed at the movies don’t count,” she replies, grinning at me. “Besides, I’m in the mood for pizza, aren’t you?”
I shrug since it’s a rhetorical question as far as I’m concerned. I could eat pizza every single day of the week, kind of like a college frat boy. “Let’s put this up then I’ll get it ordered. The usual?” I ask.
“As if there’s anything else,” she says, taking her bags toward her bedroom.
I quickly empty my bags, tossing the clothes I bought into my hamper so I can wash them before wearing. Once I’ve changed into my true lounging clothes, I pull up t
he app on my phone and quickly order our favorite pizza plus some wings. “Patsy, it’s ordered. I’m going to check on the birds and let them fly around a bit in my office. Just let me know when it gets here.”
“Will do.” I’m laughing at Squirrel and Moose’s antics when Patsy taps on the office door. “Hurry up because there’s a marathon coming on of Supernatural,” she says. “It’s all their wild shows, the one where it’s a musical, the one where they’re in the game show because of the Trickster, you know, those ones.”
“Be out in a second,” I reply. “C’mon, boys, let’s get you settled.” Both birds settle on my hands and I carefully take them to their cage where they immediately jump to their perches. Once I’ve refilled their trough and given them each a treat, I cover their cage and leave my office, closing the door behind me.
Loki
As much as I want to reach out to CeeCee today, I don’t want to crowd her too much. Yet, my mind whispers. Once I’m done at the shop, I run by the pet store and see that my girls are ready to come home. Since I was hoping that would be the case, I have my truck. “You’ve got everything, right?” George, the owner, asks.
“Yeah, set up their habitat the other day,” I reply. “I think Thelma will be the red one and Louise the yellow one,” I state, reaching in and stroking each beardie. Then I decide to show George what I created for the girls, so I set the container holding them down and pull my phone from my back pocket. Once I open my pics, I swipe through until I reach the ones showing their habitat. “Look,” I say, holding out my phone.
He looks through the pictures, not saying anything and I grow nervous. “I think these girls are living in the Taj Mahal,” he finally says, handing me my phone. “Looks like they’re going to be spoiled.”
Loki's Angel: A Poseidon's Warriors MC novel - Book 3 Page 6
