Forever My Angel (10 page)

“Done.”

“Done.”

My childhood echoes in my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories to leave me the fuck alone. My mom couldn’t take my father’s cheating, and she bolted. Is that what’s about to happen here? Is Angel going to leave me again, after we’ve come so far, and for something I haven’t even done?

Angel's shoulders tremble. “Are you even going to answer me?”

I take a slow, deliberate breath. I’ve got to get a fucking grip on myself so I don’t muck this up.

I’m vaguely aware of Angel standing up, but I really only snap out of my haze when she shoves past me. “Fine! Just stand there. I suppose I should at least be happy you aren’t feeding me bullshit lies.” Her words come out at a dangerously high octave. She disappears into the closet for a moment, returning almost immediately with a pair of pants and a sweater.

“Don’t go.” I stare at her with pleading eyes.

“Why shouldn’t I? You obviously don’t want to talk.” Tears are streaming down her face, and she won’t meet my gaze.

“What should we talk about, Angel?" I fling the words through gritted teeth. "The fact that you went through my phone, or the fact that you don’t trust me?” There’s a war going on within me. I want to cross the room and take her tears away, and yet I don’t. I’m honestly afraid for a moment that she and I have rushed into things, blinded by our love for each other. I don’t think we’ve ever had a true fight, and I have no idea how to handle it. My only experience with couples arguing is my parents, and look how that turned out. I cross my arms, waiting. The next move is Angel’s.

“Are you fucking serious right now?"

How is she the one that's outraged? Before I can say anything, she continues her tirade.

"I didn’t think we
had
any secrets from each other. But for the record, I didn’t go through your phone. It went off at least four times just while you were in the shower, so I got worried and checked it. That’s when I saw the most recent text from
Eva
.” The way she says Eva’s name makes it abundantly clear how she feels about the woman, who she’s never met. And her words make it just as clear that Angel wasn't the only one who jumped to conclusions.

“Angel—”

She grabs my phone off the bed where she left it, pushing the front button to wake it up. “I need to see you. Today.” I’m assuming she’s reading off a text from Eva. And okay, so that sounds sort of odd, but if she had it in the right context, she would’ve known it wasn’t a big deal. “You can’t put this off. You need to choose. Now.”

Yeah, that one definitely sounds bad. I can see how Angel got this all wrong.

Tears are watering in her eyes again. “Are you going to choose me, or her?"

Her question is a punch to the gut, and she doesn't even give me a chance to respond.

"Yes, after I saw the one text, I brought it up to read the rest of the texts. And yes, I’m fucking pissed. And yes, I should walk away, and not even let you choose. If you’re cheating, we should be done...”

My chest tightens. “It sounds like a there’s a ‘but’ there.” Is she really saying that even if I cheated, she’d stay? That we’d work through it? Not that I’d ever dream of cheating, but just her saying she’s that fully committed to this makes my heart swell like a creek after a torrential rainstorm.

She nods, keeping her eyes on the floor and wrapping her arms around herself like she's trying to ward her heart. “I can’t walk away from you, A.”

It takes me two strides to cross the room; less than a second to take my phone from her hands and toss it on the bed. And then I’m cupping both of her cheeks in my palms, tilting her face so I can bend down to kiss her. “I love you.”

The tears pooled in her eyes break free, and her voice cracks as she whispers, “I love you, too.” I never thought such sweet words could be filled with such immense heartbreak.

“Eva is my realtor. I don’t know why she phrased her messages the way she did. Probably because she’s inexperienced and not as professional as her father, who owns the firm. But that’s all she is. A realtor I’m working with to try to select a new property so I can open a second bar.”

She sags against my chest. “I didn’t know you wanted to open a second bar.”

Having her wrapped in my arms for the first time this morning, I feel like things are going to be okay. “Well, it’s only in the early stages.  I can’t move forward until I find the right property. Tuck’s Tap is great, and I’m not saying I don’t love the improvements we’ve made there, but I really want to build something from the ground up. Tuck’s Tap was Dad’s. The new place, whatever I end up calling it, it is going to be all me. If it’s successful, I’ll know it’s because I made it that way.”

Angel takes half a step back, using the distance to look up at me. “This is important to you?”

“Yeah.”

Stormclouds darken her eyes. “Then why haven’t you told me about it before?”

—-♥—-

W
hy didn’t I tell her? I still don’t have a good answer for that question as I drive across town to meet Eva. I'd forgotten Angel had plans to go riding with Lexi this morning, and that was why she was up and getting dressed. We can talk more when I get home tonight. Riding always makes her happy, and I’m hoping some time to think will have us both communicating better by this evening.

Angel tried to protest, saying she was too pissy to ride, and she wanted to come with me to meet with Eva instead. But when I insisted, she eventually relented. Grudgingly. She honestly thinks that Eva is into me, never mind that she’s never met or talked to her. First Kevin, now Angel?

Eva’s got a third property for me to consider. She says there’s already an offer on it, hence her urgency and insistence that we meet. Today. Which is fine, but her deluge of calls and texts this morning created more trouble than I want to deal with, and her enthusiasm is a bit much. I told her I’d meet with her, but as soon as I get there I’m going to have to set some boundaries.

The universe is obviously laughing at me as tiny white flakes begin to float carelessly down from the sky. I’ve always hated the snow. It seems like it brings the stupidity out in other drivers, and creates an all-around hassle. Not to mention it keeps customers home.

Should I call Angel and suggest she not go to the farm? I don’t think she’s ever driven in the snow before, and her Mustang won’t get much grip if the roads get slick. It’s just a dusting right now, but it’s already starting to stick. The weather wasn’t calling for snow today, so I’ve got no idea how much or how little we’re in for.

She won’t be happy if she thinks I’m insinuating that she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, but if something happens to her...

Maybe I can finish with Eva quickly, and then I’ll just drive out to the farm myself. I can tell her I just wanted to apologize again, in person, and that I couldn’t wait to do it. Then I’ll drive her back and we can pick up her car later this week. Win-win.

By the time my GPS delivers me to the address Eva specified, her motorcycle is already parked out front. I barely glance up as I cross the street, keeping my head tucked low and my eyes down, trying to avoid getting blinded by icy flakes.

Eva greets me with a smile, not looking the least bit bothered by the weather. “Hi!” she chirps. “You made it here faster than I thought. In a hurry to see me?”

“In a hurry to get this done.”

Her smile doesn’t dim. “All the more reason to pick this property and put in an offer immediately.”

She might be on to something there. I have to grudgingly admit, this property is worth seeing. From what Eva tells me, it just came on the market twenty-four hours ago, and there’s already an offer. A large, open main floor provides plenty of room for a bar, two dance floors, and a small seating area in the middle. I can already picture the layout if I close my eyes. Storage rooms along one wall can be converted into staff areas, and there are already restrooms. There’s no kitchen, which will have to be fixed, because the top floor is home to a wraparound balcony with several rooms leading off of it that would be perfect for themed dining areas. With this space I can create the perfect blend of bar, trendy eatery, and dance club. I’ll make it into the one and only spot to see and be seen, and the best part is, it will be all mine. Then no one will ever be able to doubt that I made my own way, and didn’t just siphon success from my father.

I take a few pictures to show Kevin, then indicate I’m ready to leave. “Draw up the paperwork and send it over to me this afternoon. I’ll pay more if the seller is willing to go to closing fast so we can move this along.”

Eva replaces the key to the property in the realtor’s lock box after securing the door behind us. “Great!” She turns to me, and I think she’s about to shake hands to seal the deal. Instead, before I can react, she stretches up on her tiptoes, planting a kiss on my cheek, her hand lingering on my chest as she scalds me with a heated grin. “We make a good team.”

“The fuck?” All professionalism goes out the window as I open my mouth without thinking. “Ms. Fitzsimmons! I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” I hurriedly take two steps back, putting space between us. Before I can inform her that I’m about to propose to the woman who is my everything, the sound of squealing brakes and screeching tires slices through the near-silence of the deserted street.

My breath becomes a brick of dread lodged in my throat. A cherry-red Mustang that I’d know anywhere skids across the road in front of us, while my mind processes every detail in painfully slow motion. Angel’s look of anger as she glares at me and Eva, followed quickly by her panic when she realizes her car is no longer under her control. The moment she gives in, her body going limp as she shields her face with her arms. Then my brain catches up to my ears, the crunch of metal and shattering of glass creating a symphony of horror as the car slides into a telephone pole.

—-♥—-

T
here’s a moment of eerie stillness before I catapult out of my horror and into action, sprinting for the car.

It takes me at least three heartbeats to get to the groaning pile of metal, and two more to get her door opened. The driver’s side was mostly spared, but the front is crumpled enough that the door sticks, not wanting to open easily. Something under the hood is whining as if the car itself is in pain, but I don’t smell gasoline or smoke.

Angel is clawing at her seatbelt while holding her head with her other hand. Vaguely I hear Eva shouting behind me that she’s called 911 and help is on the way.

The slowly deflating airbag from the steering wheel complicates Angel’s attempts to free herself.

She flashes me a panicked look.

“You’re okay,” I tell her, keeping my tone soothing, even as I’m inwardly freaking.

“I’m stuck.” Her lip trembles as she tries again to undo her seatbelt.

I put my hand over hers and she stills, her tear-filled eyes locked on mine.

After a bit of prodding the seatbelt clicks free, and she flies out of the seat and into my embrace, her arms fastening around my neck while she buries her face against me.

I imagine she can feel my frantically beating heart as I clutch her tightly. I’m a hurricane of conflicting emotions, but relief is the one that prevails. Thank God she seems to be okay. Sirens wail in the distance, while white flakes swirl angrily around us, sticking in Angel’s dark hair. “What were you thinking?” I whisper against the top of her head.

She lifts her head to peer up at me, sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth before she answers. “The ring box. You forgot it...it’s the first time you’ve left without leaving me a note...and then I realized I hadn’t given it back to you so you could. With everything this morning, I didn’t think about it until you’d left, and then it just, I don’t know. It felt important. I know it’s silly.”

I smile, my anger ebbing. She wasn’t following me because of a lack of trust. She wanted me to know that even though we were arguing this morning, nothing has changed. I hate that she put herself in jeopardy, but love her more for her intent.

“It isn’t silly. It’s sweet.” The serenade of the sirens is closer now.

I can tell the exact moment she remembers what made her crash. I wince as she steps back, putting space between us, cutting me with the sharpness of the pain in her eyes. All her tenderness is gone. “You kissed her!”

“No.
She
kissed
me
. I pushed her away.” An ambulance rolls to a stop nearby, and a paramedic leaps out. “And as soon as you’ve been checked over and I’m sure you’re okay, I’m going to walk back over there and fire her for unprofessional behavior.” I point across the street to where Eva is standing, looking unsure what to do.

“I don’t need to be checked out. I’m sure I’m fine.”

“Until
I’m
sure, you need to be checked. If nothing else, do it for my peace of mind.”

“Your peace of mind?” she snarls. “You came out and met your pretty, young realtor, and when I show up you're kissing her, or she's kissing you, and you're worried about
your
peace of mind?”

“Ma’am! Sir! Are you both okay?”

A paramedic rushes to our sides, and I step back to give him room. “I wasn’t in the car, it was just her.”

“Don't touch me!” Angel snaps as I reach for her. She turns her attention to the paramedics. “I’m fine, really,” Angel says, but she sways on her feet, then freezes, a look of terror on her face as both paramedics and I all try to catch her. She's got that deer-in-headlights look.

It's all I can do to keep my hands to myself. If she wants to seek shelter from me she can, but I can't push her. Even if it kills me.  “They're trying to help,” I say quietly, hoping that even through her anger, I can get through to her.

She swallows hard, some of the wildness draining from her expression.

“She needs to be examined. She was holding her head before she climbed out of the vehicle,” I tell the paramedics.

Angel shoots me a dirty look as they lead her to the back of the ambulance and help her sit so they can take a look at her. I don’t want to leave her side, but clearly she doesn't want my support right now. Plus, she’s not going to be honest about how she’s feeling with me standing right there, because she won’t want me to worry. Or maybe she does. Christ, I don't know right now.