Page 165 of Angel

The weather was flawless, the sky a brilliant blue with soft, drifting clouds.

He navigated the machine near my workstation, gave me a wicked wink, and drove the exhaust right through my neat leaf pile, scattering them everywhere.

‘You did not just do that,’ I muttered, slicing a hand over my throat.

I gripped the pitchfork, scooped up a massive heap of damp oak foliage, and lobbed it straight at his head.

He ducked, but a stray gust carried the pile right into his face.

He rode off chuckling, throwing his corded neck back as he did, at the same time trying to steer the mower while digging twigs out of his shirt and hair.

A sudden, violent surge of love hit my chest so hard I froze, watching him laugh.

‘Woman, I’m going to get you,’ he shouted over the engine roar. ‘This is war.’

He killed the ignition, hopped off the seat, and scooped up a massive armful of leaves.

He prowled toward me with a playful glint in his eye, but I just stared at him, my hands clutching the rake handle.

He dropped the bundle at his feet, his humor vanishing.

‘You OK, babe?’

‘I’m fine.’

He arched a brow. ‘Why the stunned expression?’

‘Because you’re happy,’ I whispered. ‘Over the years, you lost that carefree laugh, but now you’re smiling more.’

He tilted his head, his gaze boring straight into my soul.

‘That’s because of you, and the fact that I love you. You lift my soul every time I see you.’

He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me, and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead.

‘You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready to say,’ he whispered against my skin. ‘But thank you for helping me heal, babe.’

I loved him. I always had.

However, as I leaned back to give him a tremulous smile, I realized I still needed a little more time to find my way back to trust again.

The rest of the week unfolded like a dream.

When my lower back ached, he worked the knots out with his thumbs.

When I craved greasy fries at midnight, he drove into town to get them.

On my very worst days, his presence made everything better.

I could be my one hundred percent authentic self with him, no matter how messy, sad, or annoyed I was.

Angel was still managing his business concerns, sharing how much he managed each day. He had commercial property investments, share portfolios, accountants, lawyers, and his career to oversee.

He also kept an eye on his parents’ affairs, from helping them set aside their retirement money to organizing doctor visits so they wouldn’t have to stress.

His sisters, Clair and Marnie, phoned him for advice on their own lives. He always took their calls with patience and love.

He was tidy to my messy.