Page 57 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rosie

Rosie bolted up in bed, gasping for air. She’d been dreaming of Maria. She was in the house, calling and screaming. Whore. Whooooore. Whoooooooore!

She glanced around, realising William wasn’t next to her. She scrambled her way out of the covers and yanked on the light robe she’d hung in the closet even as she hurried out. Glancing left and right, she listened for indication of where he’d gone or was. She tiptoed downstairs, searching for signs of life. Her stomach clenched at seeing the aftermath of her stupidity in the light of day. So much for it being better in the morning. That’s what William had said. Had he gotten up to feeling worse?

Her heart hammered as she searched out the front window, nearly collapsing to her feet when she saw his bike and the car outside.

“Morning.”

She screamed and spun, finding him leaning a head out the kitchen door from where he sat at the small table. “Shit,” she gasped at his chuckle, making her way cautiously to him.

He gestured to the table for her to sit. “Coffee is fresh.”

She eyed him then the empty cup waiting for her as though he’d expected her any moment.

He took his cup and leaned back. She eyed the way he sat, his legs crossed like a man all relaxed and composed. “You want to share some of whatever it is you have taken this morning?” She poured her coffee in the cup. “I could stand to be on that smooth sailing ocean you seem to be on.”

He gave an inaudible chuckle and set his cup down. “I’m a master at hiding the storm inside me.”

“Oh,” she said, back to sick as she focused on putting her milk and sugar. “I imagine you are.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes?” she said, stirring her coffee as she eyed him.

He raised his brow, and she realized she was stirring the coffee right out of her cup. “God, sorry,” she whispered, taking the napkin he handed her. “Almost like you’re expecting it. Got your napkins ready,” she said, laughing it off.

“I woke up and remembered … how many times I wished for chances to do things over. A do-over life.” She stared at him, holding her breath at what was coming. “This is a good beginning to that. I had actually started it before you came. Cleaned shit out. I realize the biggest problem I had was not being in control over the change.”

“Of course,” she agreed, nodding and understanding in relief. “Very understandable. I release all changes over to your hand and your power. I’ll not touch a single thing again unless you tell me to. And how to.”

He gave a small smile and took a breath, looking toward the dining room. “I want you deciding things with me. I just …” he looked at her. “Want to do all of it together.”

“Yes,” she said in light thrill. “We could … we could get a magazine and find all the ideas we like?”

His slow smile reached his pretty eyes, bringing her own grin. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, both of them grinning now.

“So, I was thinking a pink kitchen,” she began, laughing the second his brows raised. “Kidding.”

“We’ll compromise.”

“Right,” she nodded, smiling giddily. “We could come up with a theme.” She gave a light gasp, her eyes going wide.

“What?” he wondered, looking a little worried.

“Do you realize what’s coming?” she squealed. “Christmas!”

His laughter rang out, sexy and deep. “In three months?”

“That’s nothing. It will fly by! Do you like Christmas?”

“Do I like it? Only my favorite bloody holiday.”

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