Page 18 of Angel's Fantasy

My stomach rumbled, and that’s when I smelled it. Bacon and eggs and probably toast and I didn’t even know what else, and then I smiled.

That woman could cook better than anyone I’d ever met. And even though I’d told her over and over again that she didn’t need to cook for me, I was really glad that she’d ignored that particular protest.

Because damn.

She would’ve been absolutely perfect if she had simply laid around in bed all day looking amazing. But the fact that she did so much else? That she was fiercely independent but also had a nurturing side that just wouldn’t quit?

Yeah, that did it for me. Every single time.

“Good morning,” she said, appearing in the doorway as if she’d been summoned by my thoughts. “I was wondering when you might wake up.”

I grinned and rubbed my eyes, wondering if I still might be dreaming or if she really did look that damn good.

“Something smells amazing,” I said, my voice still rough and gravelly from sleeping. Or lack of sleeping, maybe. “And good morning, Bella.”

“That something would be breakfast.” She crossed the room to open the curtains, turning the annoying little sliver of sunlight that I’d been dodging all morning into a flood of bright light that would guarantee I got out of bed. “And it’s almost ready, so come out and eat, unless you like cold eggs and bacon.”

Before I could answer, her phone started ringing from the other room and she disappeared from the doorway just as quickly as she’d shown up a few moments before.

With a heavy sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and pulled on the pair of pants that I’d left on the floor the night before. I could hear her voice rising by the time I got to the door, and even though I couldn’t make out the words she was saying, her tone told me everything I needed to know.

She was upset and afraid.

“Bella?” I called to her from across the condo, moving as quickly as I could from the bedroom to the kitchen.

I came around the corner at the same time she did, and then she was in my arms, her body heaving as she sobbed into my chest.

For a minute that seemed to stretch out forever, I simply held her, letting her cry, letting her beat her small, delicate fists against my chest in muted anger. Seeing her like that was killing me, though, and when I couldn’t take it anymore I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled away just far enough to see her tear-streaked face.

“Bella, babe,” I moved my hand up next to her face and used my thumb to wipe away a fresh tear that had started rolling down her cheek. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

“It’s my dad…” Her voice broke on the last word as she tried to catch her breath, but a new wave of tears spilled over and she could only shake her head for a few more seconds as she tried to regain her composure enough to speak. “He’s in the hospital, Angel. They said it was a heart attack.”

The pain and guilt that shot through my gut felt as though someone had stabbed me. I’d kept her here like a bird in a cage, when she could’ve—should’ve—been home, taking care of her father.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling her close again. “I didn’t know he was…”

My voice trailed off, and I wasn’t sure what I would’ve said anyway. And whatever might have come out of my mouth wouldn’t have been enough. It wouldn’t have mattered. There was no excuse I could’ve come up with that would’ve made things right.

But there was one thing I coulddo.

“Get dressed,” I said. “Let me take you to him. I owe it to you.” I swallowed hard, then added, “To both of you.”

She looked up at me and nodded, and even though I could barely hear the hoarse whisper that came from her throat, the words she mouthed rang out in my head as if she’d spoken them directly into my brain.

“Thank you.”

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