Angel Falling, page 12
part #1 of Falling Series
“Now, Ma, I’m fine. Just got stuck with a pipe is all. Went straight into my shoulder. The doctors fixed me up real good. Now I’m almost three weeks out on recovery.”
“You had surgery? Hank!” she cried. Then she yelled over the receiver, “Henry, Henry my baby’s been hurt. Had to have surgery and everythin’!” I could hear mumbled words through the hand I knew she had held over the speaker while she updated Old Man Henry. My mother wasn’t typically a dramatic woman but the moment one of her children got hurt, she was like a mama bear with her cubs. All worked up and worried over nothin’ at all.
Oh, man. Now I’d done it. Telling my family about the accident slipped my mind. She was going on and on. I answered each of her questions, telling her every detail as I remembered it.
“Well I’ll be coming out there. I have to see my baby!” I could hear her tears and sniffles all the way across the states. When Julia Jensen got her mind set on something, there was no changing it.
“Okay, okay, Ma. I’ll buy you a ticket and make arrangements, but it’s really unnecessary. Aspen and her team of helpers really have been great. I’m healing up nicely.”
“Aspen?” Her tone was curious so I just plowed through and told her as much as I could while I threw on my clothes. I glazed over some parts and left her wondering about others. She’d hound me when she visited anyway. No need to go into it all now.
“Well, I’ll only believe you’re okay if I see it with my own eyes. Wait until your father sees you, Punky. He’s liable to blister your bum for not telling us sooner.”
I knew she was joking. Mom and Dad had never so much as laid a finger on us boys growin’ up, but the fear of my father busting out his belt or using his big hand on our rears had me and Heath running for the hills.
“I’m sorry, Ma. Really, I’m fine. You’ll see. I love you.”
“To the moon and back, Punky. I love you to the moon and back.”
Just hearing my ma’s voice made me homesick. Looks like I’d have news to share with Aspen. This ought to make for an interesting evening. I wondered how she would take it.
“Come on, Hank. I’m wasting away out here!” Oliver’s squeaky voice came from beyond the dressing room door. “How long could it possibly take to put on a pair of jeans?”
“Hold your horses, boy!” He was like an angry mosquito that you couldn’t shake.
I left the solace of the dressing room.
“You ready, Cowboy?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Chapter 9
Oliver put the finishing touches on my hair. He had pulled it into a sleek bun with loose tendrils of hair framing my face delicately and a few dime-sized crystals pinned around the bun. They matched the earrings and bracelet he chose for the evening. The dress was new, but one of my favorites. It was simple: a strapless bodice and a hemline that hung just to my knees, deep royal blue, and, at the waist, a satin gray belt.
The look was definitely a newer trend, almost a play on a business suit but with a lux fabric and sheen. Oliver paired it with sky-high gray suede platforms. They had crystals capped at the back that continued along down the line of the heel. Sexy as hell.
After checking myself out in the mirror, Oliver and I both agreed that I looked hot. This was the first time in a long time that I’d dressed to please a man instead of the guest list. It made me feel young and girly—two ways I would have never described myself. Ever.
As I stepped out of my room, Hank was just leaving his.
“Damn, Angel. You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. C‘mere, let me look atcha’.”
He grabbed my hand and twirled me around slowly. I allowed it, captivated by the spell he had me under. Once I’d finished the spin he laid his big paws on my hips, encircling my waist. His hands could almost touch each other. He made me feel so small and dainty. Most men I’d dated were only an inch or two taller and I had to keep myself really lean in order to not look out of place standing in pictures next to them. The last thing I’d needed in the society pages was fat commentary. My mother would never let me live it down. Hank, though, he was enormous. I looked downright petite with him, and I loved it.
“You sure clean up nice, Stud.” I fingered his royal blue tie. He stood before me in a steel gray suit. His eyes bore more of the green than caramel hue this evening. His dress shirt was bright white and lightly lined with tiny blue pinstripes.
Oliver was damned good at his job. The overall effect was drop-dead gorgeous. With looks like these, I’d need to keep my eyes on him all night. Otherwise he’d be bombarded by all the slutty socialites with nothing to do but play Monopoly with their trust funds and squander away hot men.
“Oh, the two of you make the perfect couple. You two should be on the first cover of Bright Magazine!” Oliver gushed.
The doorbell rang and Hank held his arm out for me to take. I loved his old world charm. “If I had half a brain I’d blow off this event and take you back into that room and have my wicked way with ya,” he whispered in my ear. His breath made the hair on the back of my neck tingle.
I smiled coyly at him as we made our way to the foyer. Oliver was kissing Dean when we approached. When Hank saw the PDA between Oliver and Dean, he turned a tad pink. Oliver didn’t care who saw him with Dean. Never had. He’d only ever been in the closet long enough to kiss boys that were still in there.
Hank cleared his throat. Dean smiled and pulled away first. Oliver stared into Dean’s eyes, obviously love-struck. They made for a great team; I was thrilled that my Ollie had a mate. If only I was so lucky.
Dean held his hand out to Hank. “You must be the hunk I’ve heard so much about.” Dean gave him a sly grin.
He was tall, much taller than Oliver. He had a large enough build to tuck Oliver into his side to shake hands, but he was not quite as large as Hank. His thick black hair was slicked back into a sleek cut, and he had dazzling blue eyes that swirled with mirth as he held Oliver close.
It was obvious that Dean was the alpha male in this relationship, but the man was a complete dichotomy. Most of his career had been spent doing makeup and hair for the modeling industry. That’s how he and Oliver met. Then one day, he up and left it to become a firefighter. He was definitely one of the prettiest firemen I’d ever seen. He’d recently appeared in a sexy fireman’s calendar “showcasing his assets,” as Oliver put it.
“It’s Hank, but never hurts the ego to be called a hunk!” Hank shook Dean’s hand as they both laughed. “Hear you’re a firefighter? Back home I used to volunteer with the fire department to help out now and again.” Hank had never mentioned that. There was still so much we didn’t know about one another. I enjoyed finding out these little tidbits.
“Guilty. I love getting my hands dirty. Men’s work, you know?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely, bro!” Hank clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He seemed to take to Dean so quickly. Made me wonder why he didn’t have the same ease with my Ollie.
The two continued their “men talk” as we entered the elevator. Oliver came to me and hugged me tight. “Our boyfriends are getting along. Isn’t this so exciting? Dean hated Grant with a passion.”
“Dean hates me with a passion, not Grant,” I reminded him.
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” he snickered. “He actually hated Grant, too.” He laughed louder, then turned to Dean. “Hey Baby, do you still hate Aspen?”
“Are you still working eighteen-hour days, not excluding weekends?”
“Yes, snookums,” Oliver said.
“Then yes.” But his face held a smile I knew all too well. We always joked that Dean hated me. It was part of our everyday conversation, though a small part of me believed that he did resent me a little for how much I needed Oliver’s attention. I knew since he made a firefighter’s wage and not the high salary he used to bring home working in the fashion industry, that he appreciated how much I paid Ollie in the end.
We made it to my parent’s estate on the outskirts of the city in good time, considering Friday rush hour traffic. The stretched limo pulled around the circular drive. My parents were standing at the threshold greeting everyone as they strolled up. A small get-together for my mother was around hundred and fifty people. As we approached I saw the Senator and her husband, previously the President of the United States, air-kiss my mother and shake hands with my father.
“Is that who I think it is?” Hank whispered in my ear.
“Yes.”
“Whoa, Nelly. When you said a bunch of fancy-dancy folks were going to be here tonight, I hadn’t expected one of our past presidents. I can’t wait to meet him!”
His joy made me smile. We approached my mother and Father, Dean and Oliver right on our heels. Hank immediately took my mother’s hands and kissed her knuckles then shook my father’s hand.
“Evenin’, Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds.”
“Mr. Jensen, it’s an honor to meet the man that saved my darling Pen. I owe you a great deal,” my father addressed Hank, smiling wide. My mother was an evil she-bitch, but I adored my father. He was the one person aside from London and Oliver who told me to reach for the stars and pursue my dreams.
“Hello, Daddy.” I kissed his cheek and he hugged me tightly. I turned to my mother. “Mother.” My mother gave me her standard double air-kiss. I tamped down the desire to make a jab at her.
We moved out of the line of guests and stood off to the side to wait for Dean and Oliver. I wanted Hank to feel comfortable tonight, so I’d made Oliver swear to stay close. Even if they weren’t the best of friends, at least Hank knew him and Ollie knew everyone. Though it didn’t look like it would matter one way or the other with the way Dean and Hank were carrying on as if they were long-lost brothers.
They’d moved from firefighting to sports teams and betting on who would make the playoffs this year. Of course Dean was on the side of the New York Giants, and Hank was a firm believer in the Dallas Cowboys.
We found a table out in the garden next to the pool where the four of us could sit; two chairs were left open. Large Japanese lanterns were hanging from invisible wires over the entire area. Twinkling candles sat on the tables next to a beautiful display of hydrangeas. The pool had floating lily pads with candles in the centers. Each of the trees were circled with twinkling white lights.
The entire theme was ethereal. Soft orchestral music played from a small quartet off to the side of the yard. Mother was a perfect party planner. No detail was left undone. Maybe if I paid her a huge compliment, let her plan an event for me, she’d lay off the marriage talk. It could work, but it was doubtful.
Ever since Grant and I broke up she’d been hounding me to get back with him. According to her, he was the perfect man—regardless of the fact that he’d cheated on me … twice! She believed cheating was to be expected from a man of his pedigree. I disagreed with her and that’s been at the crux of our dysfunctional relationship ever since.
We sat and enjoyed comfortable conversation before Hank and Dean took off to get us drinks from the bar.
“Oh, Princess, our princes are besties. Isn’t this great?” I couldn’t help but get caught up in his happiness.
“I know, Ollie. But what if mine turns out to be a frog?”
Oliver’s face snapped back to attention, his eyes squinting. “What do you mean? I thought you and Hank were getting along great. From what I saw in the bedroom a couple weeks ago he seemed to satisfy those needs.”
“Yes. He’s incredible in the bedroom.” I thought back to the other day when he surprised me in my dressing closet by sliding his cock into me from behind. We left quite a mess in the closet, clothes strewn everywhere. I almost felt bad for the maid. “Oh, Oliver. I just don’t know where this thing with him is going. We’re so different. Just because we’re compatible physically doesn’t mean we’re right for each other.”
“Why not? I don’t understand. He looks at you like the entire world just stopped because you were in his line of vision. That cowboy is falling for you, Princess. I know it like I know my labels. You know I know my labels!”
“I just don’t see how it could really work in the long run. He lives in Texas. I live in New York.”
“So he moves here or you move to Texas. Oh, no, that would mean I’d have to move to Texas. I don’t know if my hair could handle that heat!” He patted his perfectly coiffed hair to make sure even mentioning it didn’t mess it up.
“Stop being a drama queen. I’m not moving to Texas.”
“You don’t think you’re moving to Texas. You don’t know what the future holds, Pen. Just let the coming weeks happen. I’ve never seen you happier. Enjoy being with Hank. He seems to enjoy the hell out of you.”
***
“Who enjoys the hell out of you, Angel?” I set the white wine in front of her. It amazed me how quickly I picked up and socked away information about her likes and dislikes. In previous relationships, those details just didn’t matter to me. With Aspen, I wanted to know everything about her. Dean handed me the small plate of food and I set that down in between us to share.
“You, Stud.” That sparkle in her eyes when she’d said it made me want to bow at her pretty feet.
“Well, ain’t that the truth.” I leaned over and pecked her on the lips. She gripped my neck and pressed our lips together harder. Just when I was starting to get into it, she pulled away, looking shy.
Everyone at the table laughed. So far the party had been great. I’d met the ex-President of the United States, and a few other muckety-mucks. Also, I enjoyed talking with Dean. He was nothing like his prissy boyfriend. He was cool. I liked the fella a great deal. Could see myself watching the games with him on occasion in Aspen’s TV room. Maybe we could even go to a live game. I briefly wondered if Aspen liked sports.
“Hey Darlin’, you like sports?” She cringed. That pretty much gave me my answer.
“Pen! I can’t believe you’re here!” London yelled as she ran over. A lanky fella smoothly followed in her wake. London threw her arms around her sister. Aspen smiled brightly. I loved seeing that smile on her face. Looked like whatever disagreement they’d had back at the house a couple weeks ago had come and gone.
“London, Tripp, I’m surprised you’re here! Don’t you have a client?” she asked as she hugged her sister back.
“Yes. But this one’s a couple! So I’m actually free to do what I want on the weekends unless I tag along with them. The wife wasn’t too pleased with my unconventional methods. She’s the jealous type. Can’t blame her though. Her hubs is a hottie!” she squealed. I made a mental note to ask Aspen more about her sister’s job.
Aspen hugged the tall man. I gripped my hands into fists as the man squeezed her with too much familiarity. “Tripp, I want you to meet Hank.” She put her pretty hand on my shoulder and glided it down my good arm. The movement sent chills through me.
God, just a small touch and she had me almost painfully hard. It didn’t help that we hadn’t made love today. I wanted to fuck her into next week, the longing for her soft body so strong.
“Hank, this is Tripp Devereaux. He’s London’s best friend and assistant.” The one she beds on occasion, I thought.
“Some of the time, beautiful. Only when she needs the help. Which has been more often with business booming.”
Beautiful? The ease with which he said the nickname sent prickles of jealousy up my spine.
Tripp held out his hand. “Good to meet you, Hank. I understand you’re the man that saved our Pen’s life. Thank you for that. I couldn’t imagine dealing with Bridge if anything had happened to her sister.”
Our Pen? I shook the man’s hand making sure to squeeze it harder than someone would who’s being polite. Tripp’s eyes squinted at the gesture. Message received. Good.
“Bridge? Who’s that? Your wife?”
“Wife?” The man laughed a full-bellied laugh that caught on to the rest of the group. “No, big guy. Bridge is what I call London. You know, kind of like “London Bridge Is Falling Down.” You see?”
“Uh, sure. Okay.” To each his own.
The two newcomers joined the group and the drinking started in earnest. I hadn’t had so much as a sip of alcohol since my accident, so by the time I’d had three beers, in a glass no less, I was feeling pretty good.
“Hey Stud, this is fun. You’re fun,” a tipsy Aspen slurred.
“I’m feeling mighty fine myself, Angel.” I laid a beer-laced kiss on her lips. She hummed in appreciation and smacked her chops.
“I love how he calls her Angel. Isn’t that so sweet?” London spoke to the group. She leaned on the table, face in her hand, as Tripp rubbed a hand up and down her back. I hadn’t figured them out yet. They were close—really close. But then again, so were Oliver and Aspen, but they were not sexual in any way. Tripp and London, on the other hand, seemed very familiar with one another. “Why do you call her Angel, Hank?” London asked.
Aspen looked over at me, a huge smile on her beautiful face. “Because when daggers were raining from the sky, she was there. All golden and white and keepin’ me centered.”
There was a collective “aww” from everyone at the table. Everyone except Aspen. She had her perfect little pink bottom lip snared between her teeth. I knew that face. That look could bring a team of football players to their knees in an instant. She was turned on. Fuck me, she looked good enough to eat too.
“Hank, will you escort me to the restroom, please? Tall heels and all?” I looked down at her heels. They were very sparkly and high. Connected to the best set of gams I’d ever seen, too.
“Of course, Darlin’. Lead the way.” I’d follow her to the ends of the earth if her ass was my view.
On the way to the washroom Aspen was stopped at least a dozen times. Everyone seemed to want a piece of her. Hell, I wanted a piece of her. We made it to our destination and I was about to turn around and get settled against the wall when she tugged my tie and pulled me into the room with her.
Her lips covered mine the second she pushed me against the door. I was bathed in the smell of vanilla and honey, good enough to eat. At this moment I was starved.
