Angel of Redemption (56 page)

“Logan? I don’t know. Has he been acting weird?”

“I’m not sure I’ve really known him long enough to
determine what’s weird for him. He’s quieter than usual the last couple of
days.”

“He’s scared.”

“Probably. Most of them have a moment or two
before they go.”

“We need to help him make a plan,
” I sigh.
“Look at apartments, work out a budget.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”

“Yes,
” I answer. “Sort of. I’ve been
teaching him how to do it, but we need numbers. He can’t leave until he has a
permanent job that will help him afford everything.”

“I’ll talk to Santiago,
” Dean offers. “He
likes Logan and I don’t think he’d mind having him full-time once he graduates.”

“No,
Logan
needs to talk to him.
That’s what I’m saying. He’s got to learn to do these things for himself. I
think he’ll do just fine once he knows what he’s supposed to do.”

“Okay. Let’s set a meeting, then.” He takes a
step toward me, but then hesitates, a look of conflict on his face.

I roll my eyes at his indecision. This is what we
have to work through. I don
’t want him to feel like he has to embrace me
at his place of work. It’s no big deal. I sling my purse over my shoulder. “I’ll
see you later.”

As I’m walking past him, his hand suddenly snaps
out, grabbing me and pulling me to him. His forehead is against mine, his mouth
ghosting over my lips.

“Tomorrow? I’ve got the night off.”

“Okay.”

“I really want to fucking kiss you.”

“Then do. I won’t tell anyone,” I promise.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if
I start.”

Grabbing the back of his head, I hold him to me
and kiss him hard.

“Fuck control,” he growls.

Kayla

“Okay, honey. I had two
reasons for asking you to come tonight.” My stepmother and I are sitting on the
couch in the living room. “First, your dad and I were cleaning out the loft
last weekend and we came across some things that belonged to your Grandma
Brooks.”

“Really?”

I was really close to Grandma Brooks when I was
little. She lived in New Mexico, and we’d fly down to see her every summer.
Visits were less frequent after my parents got divorced, and then she died during
the winter I was fifteen. My mom and Richard decided that there was no way I
could miss school to attend the funeral. My father was furious, but he didn’t
have the time or energy to fight with my mother. He had to fly down to Santa Fe
to finalize the arrangements, and I was left behind. I was heartbroken and
decided to get as drunk as humanly possible on two bottles of Richard’s really
expensive wine just to piss them off. It worked, but also left me with a raging
headache the next day, so I ended up angry, depressed, hungover, and grounded.

“Yes. Your dad just kind of shoved everything
into ‘keep’ and ‘donate’ boxes when she passed. The ‘keep’ boxes went straight
up there, and we never touched them.” She pulls out a little cream-colored box.
“Your dad wants you to have this.”

Opening the box, I find a beautiful sapphire
princess-cut ring surrounded by small diamonds.

“Holy
…crackers!” I gulp.

“Brian said he thinks it was passed down to
Grandma Brooks by her mother and that she always intended to pass it on to you,
but you were too young.”

“I remember her wearing it.” I take the ring out
of its box and slip it onto my right hand ring finger. It fits perfectly. “Thank
you.” I smile.

“There are a few other things, but maybe you can
go through them some other time. So here’s the other thing.” Reaching down, she
pulls up an ice-blue leather-bound binder. “This is for Claire for her
birthday.”

I open it carefully. “Oh, Karen. I think she’ll
love it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“I figured she’s going into her last year of high
school, maybe she’ll want to have something to remember it. All she has to do
is add the pictures.”

I flip through the pages of the scrapbook that my
stepmother has so painstakingly put together for my little sister.

“Where do you find the time?”

“I’m old, Kayla.” She laughs. “I don’t have a
little one around anymore. I don’t have grandchildren. I need an outlet.”

“You’re not old,” I scoff. “What about the
restaurant? I thought cooking was your outlet.”

Karen smiles. “It still is, but it’s also my job.
I needed something else. It’s actually quite therapeutic.” Closing the cover, I
take a sip of wine. “How’s your friend?” she asks.

I look at her questioningly.

“Dean, sweetie. How’s Dean?”

“Oh. He’s good,
” I laugh.

“I saw that picture of you two in the paper.” I
roll my eyes. If I had a dollar for every person who has mentioned that to me
in the last few days, I could probably pay off my car. “I showed your father,
too.”

“Oh, great. What’d he have to say?”

“He said you looked beautiful and so grown up.”
Karen pats my knee. “I still remember the day you moved in with us.”

“Oh, God. Don’t remind me,” I groan.

“You were so
…”

“Wild? Nuts? Mean?”

“Lost.” I nod my head in agreement and take
another sip of wine. “I wanted so badly to reach out to you.”

“You did, Karen. I wasn’t in a place where I was
willing to listen.”

“I should have tried harder,” she sighs. “But,
enough of the ‘shoulda’s. I just want you to know how much I love you.” Karen’s
arm wraps around my shoulders. She’s completely unaware that I’m about to lose
it. She didn’t have to love me. I was a royal bitch to her for the first five
years of their marriage. But she did. She does.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

I look in the
mirror—again. I fix my hair. I wonder if I’ve put on too much makeup, or
maybe not enough. I look at what I’m wearing: a dark-red wrap sweater dress,
black leggings, and black knee-high boots.

Dean and I are going out for drinks. I’m trying
to figure out what my outfit says. It’s something I would usually wear to go
out with no second thoughts, but now I can’t help wondering if it says,
“We’re
friends, no pressure,” or “Fuck me silly and swear to love me forever.” My
feelings lie somewhere in the middle. I want the ease of our friendship, but I
really, really want him take me to bed at the end of the night.

I hear his car pull into the driveway, and my
heart speeds up. After I answer the door, I don’t even get a chance to say
hello before his mouth is attached to mine, his hands on either side of my
face, holding me in place. I love his tongue.

“Uh, hi,” I gasp.

“Sorry. I’ve been thinking about that all day.”

“Just all day?” I step back and admire him. Dark
jeans, blue shirt, black hoodie. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a freshly
shaven Dean Wyatt?” I tease.

He shrugs, offering me a cheeky grin, but not an
answer.

“You might want to get your coat. It’s cold
outside.”

Once we’re in the car, Dean starts the engine.
His hand hovers over the gearshift, but hesitates.

“What’s the matter?”

“Uh, okay, there’s this band playing at a pub I
like to go to. My friend Lance owns it, but there’s this girl who works there.”

“A hook-up?” I ask, a little on edge.

“No! Fuck, no. But she wants to be. She can be a
real bitch, Kayla. I don’t want to put you in a bad position. There’s another
bar I was thinking about, but they don’t have any music.”

“Dean?” I say, the edginess disappearing and
amusement replacing it. I’m not going to let some little tart chase us off.

“Huh?”

“Do you remember the very first time we were out
together? At the restaurant where that guy Brody trapped me in the corner?”

Dean’s jaw clenches. “Yeah.”

“I kinda still owe you. If she tries anything, I’ll
protect you.”

His lips twitch. “You will?”

“I promise,” I purr.

He asks me if I’m sure several times before we
pull into the parking lot of Hudson’s. I’ve heard of this place, but never been
here. It’s crowded and crazy. He keeps his hand on me. Usually on my hip, but
sometimes it slips. I like it when it slips.

We find ourselves at the end of the bar. There’s
standing space, but no stools.

“Lance!” Dean yells right beside my ear. I wince
and pull away.

“Hey, man. How you been?” They slap hands in the
way guys do. Lance’s eyes shift to me.

“Dude, this is my friend, Kayla.”

I’m beginning to hate that word.

“You look like a nice friend to have.” Lance
winks. I blush. Dean clears his throat.

“Lance is a buddy from way back. I stayed with
him and his wife for awhile. How’s Tina doing with the pregnancy?”

Lance laughs. So do I. Dean’s not being very
subtle. I like that he
’s a little jealous.

“She’s great. Just found out it’s a boy. What can
I get for you guys?”

“Chairs?” Dean asks.

“Oh, yeah. Hold up.” Lance disappears for a
second into a back hallway and comes out with two stools. “Now what to drink?”

“Usual.” Dean nods.

“Jack and Coke, please.”

Lance comes back quickly, setting our drinks in
front of us. “You know I’m fully staffed tonight, right?” he says to Dean.

“Yeah. So does Kayla,” Dean says, taking a drink.

“You told her about
…”

“His admirer? Yes, he did. I’m a big girl. I
’m
sure I can handle her.”

“Is it wrong that I’d love to see that?” Lance
asks.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Dean
challenges.

Lance throws one of those cardboard coasters at
him and walks away laughing.

“He’s the one you stayed with after you got out
of jail?” I ask.

“Yeah. He was a friend of Aiden’s in high school.
He and his wife helped me drag my ass back up off the ground.”

I look at Lance. He’s talking to some customers,
pouring drafts, mixing drinks. I find myself feeling grateful toward this man I’ve
just met.

“So, who’s playing tonight?” I ask, crossing my
legs. I feel Dean’s hand slide over my thigh, and he leans in, his breath hot
on my ear.

“They’re called Dirty Rebel Rejects. It’s a mix
of alternative rock and blues.”

We sit drinking, talking, and laughing for a good
half hour before I start to feel uncomfortable, like there are eyes on me.
Glancing around, I see a blond chick staring at us. I know immediately who she
is.

“What’s the matter?” Dean asks, noticing that my
attention has been diverted. I don’t even have to answer
—she’s
walking over.

“Hey, Dean.” She smiles, completely ignoring me.
Dean looks like he just got a jury duty notification.

“What’s up, Jodi?” he says flatly. The girl leans
over the counter, flaunting her fake boobs. They are way too big for her body
type.

“I’ve missed you,” she coos.

“Really?” Dean snorts.
“How’s Gage?” Jodi
frowns at him.

I’m not going to be polite. Madison didn’t get
the hint the first time, but this bitch will. Under the bar top, I switch my
Grandma Brooks’ ring from my right hand to my left. I hope Dean plays along;
otherwise I’ll look like a complete ass.

“Look, Jodi. I get that you think my fianc
é’s
hot and all, but you should have a little bit more class than to hit on him
right in front of me. He’s not going home with you—ever. He goes home
with me. So pack your boobs back into your top, and go try one of the single
fools down that way!” I lift my hand, flaunting my ring and waggling my
fingers. Jodi looks at Dean, who simply smiles before threading his hand with
mine and kissing my knuckles. She doesn’t say a single thing as she turns
around and walks away.

“Probably shouldn’t let her fill my drink, huh?”
I joke.

“Your fianc
é?” Dean asks, his eyebrow
raised.

I shrug. “Girls like her don’t care if you’re someone’s
boyfriend.” I shove my thumbnail into my mouth. “Not that you are. I didn’t
mean that you’re my
… Shit.”

Dean shuts me up with his mouth, ending my
stammering but also avoiding the subject. I let him.

“Where’d you get that?” he asks, fingering the
ring.

“It was my grandma’s. Karen and my dad gave it to
me yesterday.”

“Well, that was lucky.
”

“I know, right?”

The band starts up, and Dean and I listen and
drink. He stops after two, switching to Coke. Jodi never comes back down to our
end of the bar.

“What did you do to her?” Lance chuckles, handing
me another refill. “She’s all pissy.”

“I showed her my engagement ring.” I grin.

“Huh?” His eyes dart between us. He can obviously
sense our amusement because he relaxes and laughs.
“Shit.”

The rest of the night goes fine. I try not to get
too toasted, although I’m definitely feeling the alcohol.

“You ready to go?” Dean asks as people start
filtering out. Hopping down off the stool, I nod.

“Yep.”

We wave good-bye to Lance. I don’t even bother to
look at Jodi. If she notices how close Dean is holding me, I’ll never know.

“Is Andy gonna be pissed I kept you out so late?”
Dean asks on the way home. Annoyed, I turn to ream him out—to tell him
that I’m a grown woman and I can stay out as long as I want—but he’s smirking.

He wants to know if the coast is clear to stay
the night. Duh.

“He’s at Sara’s tonight.”

“Thought I was asking about your curfew?”

“Shut up and drive.”

By the time we pull into my driveway, I am
unbelievably horny. Could be the alcohol, could be the man who has spent the
last fifteen minutes fingering a lidless plastic water bottle in the cup
holder. Lucky bottle. I wait patiently for him to open my door and then just
fucking pounce on him. He catches me, stumbling backward.

“Jesus, sweetheart. In a hurry?”

“To get your clothes off,” I rasp between kisses
to his face and neck. He closes the car door with his foot and carries me to
the house.

“Your neighbors are getting quite a show.”

“They should be minding their own business
anyway. Here.” I hand Dean my keys so he can get in. Next thing I know, I’m on
the edge of my bed, and Dean is shirtless. Did I do that? He’s pulling at my
leggings and then my dress, leaving me in just my bra and panties. His lips are
on my mouth, my neck, the curve of my breasts. He reaches his hands underneath
me to unhook my bra and throws it somewhere across the room. I love the feel of
his tongue on my tits. It circles and flicks and makes me squirm. I think of
other places it could circle and flick, and I find myself begging him to go
lower. Instead, he returns to my mouth. Goddammit!