Fallen Angels: Beguiled\Wanton\Uncovered (4 page)

That grin disappeared real quick, replaced by a ferocious look of menace. “Who the hell are you?”

Dane, at his most autocratic and not in the least threatened by the rangy youth, lifted his eyebrow and turned to Angel. “I think that may be my question.”

“N
O
,”
ANGEL SAID
, keeping her voice low and managing to cover herself as Grayson fell asleep and released her breast. He was such a good baby, so sweet. She loved him so much she'd gladly do anything necessary to protect him. “It's not your question because it's none of your business.”

She quickly buttoned up her shirt. Mick automatically put the pizza on the coffee table and took the baby from her while Derek stood there, that damn imperious eyebrow raised high, and watched. Slowly, because her leg really was aching, she lifted herself into something closer to a sitting position, resting against the arm of the couch with her leg still outstretched.

“Well.” Derek smiled, but it wasn't a particularly nice smile, more a baring of teeth which Mick responded to with a scowl. “I'm not leaving until I know who he is.” He sat down and stretched out his own long, strong legs, at his leisure, and waited.

Angel sighed. God, she really didn't need this. First the trip downtown, which had tired her leg terribly. Then the kiss and his naked chest…Her mind was turning to mush.

Mick bristled. “Just who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and demanding answers?”

“The baby's father.”

“Oh.” Mick straightened, blinked, then glanced at Angel. Derek had said that with so much relish, so much ridiculous pride, she was temporarily stunned herself. His complete acceptance was such a swift turnaround, she was having trouble accepting it.

It took her a moment before she nodded, giving Mick permission. She knew he wouldn't say another word without it and yet Derek wasn't likely to leave unless he got his answer. She knew how incredibly stubborn he could be. And even though he wasn't acting like himself, he could pull out his ruthlessness at any moment. She didn't want Mick caught in the cross fire.

“I'm Mick Dawson, a neighbor.” Mick jutted his chin. “And a friend.”

“A very good friend,” Angel added, thinking of how much help Mick had been to her since she'd first moved here. She surveyed Derek, lounging at his leisure, his shirt tight across his broad shoulders and his hands laced over his flat stomach. She wanted to kick him for looking so damn good. “You asked who helped me. Well, once I moved here, Mick did. He picks up my groceries for me, gets my mail and paper.” She waved at her leg. “Until recently I've been pretty much out of commission. Mick lives upstairs, his mother owns the building, and he's been an enormous help.”

Mick started to hand her the baby back, still keeping one eye on Derek, and that seemed to galvanize Derek into action. “I can take him,” he said, reaching for Grayson. “You should go ahead and eat.”

Mick again looked at her for guidance. Derek's willingness to take part wasn't something she'd counted on. It was an awkward situation, but it shouldn't have been—not if he would just act like himself. But he didn't seem to be in an accommodating mood today, which she supposed was like him after all.

Exasperation made her tone extra sharp. “Really, Derek, weren't you just about to leave?”

He smiled. “I can stay a little longer. Besides, I like holding the baby.” He pressed his cheek to the top of Grayson's head, and his expression caused a silly sick reaction in Angel's stomach. “He smells good.”

Mick folded his arms and stared. “So you're just now showing up? You waltz in today and pretend to be the happy father? To my mind, you're about two months too late.”

Oh no.
Angel tensed her muscles in dread of Derek's response. “Mick…”

Derek nodded, cutting off Angel's warning. “I agree. Actually, I'm close to a year late by my calculations. But I'm going to be near at hand from now on.” Then without missing a beat, he asked, “How old did you say you were?”

Mick grinned his sinister street-tough grin. “I didn't.” Before Derek could react, he added, “But I'm sixteen. And before Miss Morris makes it sound like I've done her any big favors, she's helped me out a lot, too. Without her, I doubt I'd make it out of high school.”

Angel couldn't stand it when Mick did that, put himself down, especially since he was such a remarkable young man. Unfortunately, he still didn't believe her about that. “That's not true, Mick, and you know it. You're very bright and you'd have figured out that math with or without my help.” She turned to Derek, for some reason anxious for him to understand. “Mick works two jobs, plus school, plus he pretty much runs this place. His mother is often…sick.”

Mick gave Derek a solemn, measuring look. “My mother is an alcoholic.”

Angel closed her eyes on a wave of pain. Mick had such a chip on his shoulder with everyone but her. He asked for disdain, as if he felt it was his due, then would fight tooth and nail to prove a point. She still wasn't certain what that point might be, though.

With no visible sign of reaction, Derek looked at Mick. Angel knew Mick looked much older, much wiser than any sixteen-year-old boy should look. She also knew, deep down, he was still a kid, a little afraid at times, a lot needy given that his life had been nothing but empty turmoil. Her praise always embarrassed him, but he thrived on it. And she loved him like a little brother. If Derek said anything at all that would upset Mick, she'd manage to get her sorry butt off the couch and kick him out.

But he surprised her by cradling the baby in one arm and offering Mick his hand, which Mick warily accepted. “I appreciate what you've done for her. Did she move here when she was first hurt?”

“Yeah, not long after.” Mick narrowed his eyes again, very nice dark brown eyes that she knew all the high school girls swooned over. But Mick didn't spare time for serious girlfriends. He was too busy surviving. “If I hadn't been here, I don't know if she'd have made it. She was pretty banged up, and Grayson was just a tiny squirt. Even getting herself something to eat was difficult, but she did it, because she had to stay healthy for Grayson. Truth is, I don't know how the hell she managed.”

“Don't be so melodramatic, Mick.” Angel didn't want them talking about her and she didn't want Derek to view her as a helpless, pitiful victim. He seemed to be hanging on Mick's every word, analyzing them and drawing his own conclusions. She didn't like the way his intense interest made her feel.

Later, after she figured out what he was up to, then she'd confide her biggest worry and hopefully he'd be able to take care of it. She cleared her throat. “Derek, you can put Grayson in his crib if you'd like. I don't want to hold you up.”

He surprised her again by agreeing. After he settled Grayson, he came back in and walked over to her, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead that made her skin tingle and her breath catch. She frowned at him, but held her tongue. When they were alone, safe from Mick's protective nature, she'd set him straight about his familiarity.

Derek looked at Mick. “Could you walk me out?”

The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “What for? I think you can find your way out the door. It's straight ahead.”

Derek grinned at her. “Man talk, honey. Mick understands.”

“It's all right,” Mick said to her, then followed Derek out despite her protests.

For all of two minutes, she fretted, imagining every kind of hostile confrontation. But when Mick came back in he was shaking his head and almost laughing.

“What? What did he want?”

“A list.”

She searched his face, stymied. “A list of what?”

“Everything you might need.” Her mouth fell open. “He also wanted to know if there was anyplace safe around here for him to park his car since he plans to be hanging around a lot. I told him he could use the garage.”

“But you don't let anyone use the garage!”

“Yeah, but he has a
really
nice car. I wouldn't want it to get stripped.”

She could imagine what kind of car he had: expensive. What was it about males of all ages that made them car crazy?

Mick picked up a huge slice of pizza and took a healthy bite, then went into the kitchen for plates. “You want juice to drink?”

Absently, her thoughts on Derek, she said, “Please.” She made it a habit to drink juice, since it was healthier for the baby. Real juice was her one small luxury.

They ate in near silence, and Angel was aware of the passing minutes. When she caught Mick watching her watch the clock, he grinned. “I'm not about to leave until he comes back. He raised hell with me because the door was unlocked when he got here.”

Indignation rose, hot and fierce, crowding out her other, more conflicting emotions. “He yelled at you?”

“No, he just told me I should be more careful. I, um, gave him your key. He's having a couple made, so I can have one, and he can have one. That way, he said, you can keep your door locked, and you won't have to get up to let us in if you're resting your leg or feeding the baby or something.”

“Didn't you tell him you already had a key and that he didn't need one?”

“It didn't seem like a smart thing to do.”

He was still grinning at her. She shook her head. Never before had she seen Mick take to another person this easily. “Well, I'll tell him. If he actually does come back.”

“Oh, he'll be back, all right.” Mick tilted his head at her. “Are you going to tell him what's been happening?”

“Not right away. I have to find out first if he's going to get involved with Grayson, if I can count on him to help without having to worry that he'll sue me for custody. I can't risk having Grayson around that family. It's my bet the threats start with them. His mother, according to him, is as far removed from the grandmotherly type as a woman can get, and the stories he shared about his brother don't even bear repeating they're so dreadful. And,” she said, when Mick's mouth twitched, “before you start grinning again, I don't need his help with anything but protection and you know it.”

He handed her another piece of pizza. “For a little bitty single lady you've done okay. But you know as well as I do that things are getting worse for you. First the job, then your old apartment, then the accident. That bit with your car still makes me sick when I think of it. You can't keep up. You never get enough rest and your leg hurts all the time from overdoing it. You need to let it heal. Hell, you need therapy.”

Angel had long ago quit trying to curb Mick's colorful vocabulary. Now she just rolled her eyes. “I'm getting more papers to type up every day. Pretty soon, everything will even out.”

He only shook his head. He didn't really approve of the late hours she spent transcribing papers for local businessmen and college students, but he helped her anyway by picking up the papers and dropping them off. Like her, Mick knew she had few options.

They both looked up when they heard the doorknob turn. It was locked as per Derek's instruction. He looked supremely satisfied as he used the key to get in. “Much better.”

Angel glared at him. “You're not keeping a key to my apartment, Derek, so forget it.”

He didn't look daunted. “Mick, you want to help me carry a few things in?”

“Sure.” Mick was already on his feet, setting the half-eaten slice of pizza aside. He looked anxious, and Angel imagined he was every bit as curious as she was.

Then she remembered herself. “Now wait a minute! I don't want or need anything from you! I already told you that.”

Derek went out the door whistling. Mick followed him, trying to hide his smile. Angel hadn't seen him grin this often in one day since she'd met him. They returned with several boxes and various brands of disposable diapers. Angel could have wept. Using cloth had been so tiring and so much added work, but the expense of disposables was out of the question.

As they carried them in, Derek explained. “The woman at the store told me some kids are allergic to some kinds. You can tell me which works best and I'll pick up more of them. But this ought to hold you for now.”

He set the boxes in the living room, a huge wall of them, then tiptoed into Grayson's room where she couldn't see him. The apartment was tiny, only the two small bedrooms, a closet-sized bath, then the open area of the living room and kitchen, separated by half a wall which cornered the refrigerator. Angel seethed, even more so when he came back out carrying the almost filled diaper pail. “Where are you taking that?”

“To the dumpster.” He made a face, turning his nose away. “I left the clean ones in there in case you wanted to use them for dust rags or something.”

She started to get up, but he was already out the door again and she slumped back in frustration.

By the time he and Mick finished carrying things in, she had full cupboards, a stuffed refrigerator and freezer, a bathroom that practically overflowed with feminine products, and a sore throat from all her complaining, which Derek blithely ignored.

Not only did she now have the basics, but she had luxuries she hadn't recently been able to afford. Had Mick told Derek that she missed conditioning her hair and giving herself facials? That she missed creamy lotions and scented bath oils? Or had he figured it out on his own? She wouldn't ask. He'd simply have to take it all back; she wouldn't be bought. Material things weren't what she wanted or needed from him.