Page 23 of No Angels

“I’m kinda hungry,” I admit as my stomach rumbles. “And I’ve never had a guy cook for me.”

We’re laying in his giant bed after the second go-round. He rolls me onto my back and pins me to the mattress. “You finally screamed my name,” he smirks down at me.

The first time cemented his ego, and he’ll be insufferable now he proved his skill isn’t a fluke.

“Pretty sure you screamed mine too, Callihan.” He didn’t exactly scream it, but he was groaning it like I was the last morsel on earth and he was a starving man.

He had a stash of condoms in his nightstand, and I’m trying to stamp down my jealousy. I wonder how often he does this and how many women have seen the mural he painted on the ceiling.

He lifts my chin with his thumb. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” I ask defensively.

“Stop wondering, Cassidy. I can smell the smoke and see the wheels turning.”

I want to cross my arms over my chest and act like I don’t know what he’s referring to. “I’m not wondering anything.”

“Yes, you are. I bought those condoms after the first night. When I pinned you behind the velvet curtains. No other woman has been in this bed. No one but Brady has seen the mural. That blob of brown paint in the corner by the door is his version of a horse.”

“Brady’s the only one that’s seen it?”

“Yes. And he has his own bedroom because he wanted bunk beds. I can’t imagine anyone in this bed with me but you. Come to Thanksgiving dinner. Brady will be there. And my parents would love to see you. Even Derek’s been asking when I’m going to bring you around. You and your mom don’t need to bring anything but yourselves.”

“I can’t believe your annoying little brother has been asking about me.”

He folds his hands behind his head, a pensive look on his face. “He’s different. Ever since he got back from his last tour five years ago. He finally started going to therapy when he became a deputy sheriff two years ago.”

I lay my hand on his heart because I hear the worry and concern in his voice. “Is it helping?”

He shrugs under my touch. “I can’t tell. He’s better at controlling his anger. But it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling. And he goes through women and hard liquor like he’s trying to banish his demons.”

“I didn’t think there were that many single women in Willow Creek. Less than ten thousand people live here.”

“He finds them somewhere. Mom and Dad are worried too. Even though they haven’t said anything to me, I can tell.”

“Maybe it just takes the right person for each of us to find our way. Just watch over him and be his big brother when you need to be.”

He kisses the top of my head. “You always were able to reel me back in when I started doom spiraling. Thanks, Cassidy.”

My fingers trace circles over the trail of hair bisecting his abdomen. “You were always that person for me, too, Callihan. I’ll talk to Mom about coming over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

When I unlock the front door of our farmhouse, I’m rumpled and carrying my shoes in my hand. I’m tiptoeing my way to the stairs when Mom’s head pops over the top of the couch and scares me half to death. “There you are.” She seems way too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for two o’ clock in the morning. “Come sit down and tell me all about it.”

“Can I get a raincheck until tomorrow? I’ve been awake way too long today. He asked us over for Thanksgiving and I told him I’d talk to you about it.”

Her face falls a little bit and I want to indulge her, but I want my sleep too. And the chance to ponder the ramifications of my actions tonight. My childhood best friend and I just tackled each other and went several rounds. And I toppled all the way in love with him.

She waves her hand in the air. “We don’t need to talk about Thanksgiving. You can tell him we accept the invitation. Now, go get some sleep. But remember I want to hear everything in the morning.”

Chapter Nine

Mike

Zane pulled me intohis office this morning. “Mike, you need to buy her that piano. It’s the grand gesture that’ll get her to stay.”

“What piano are you taking about?”

“The one that was in the estate sale just up the road from you. No one bought it.”

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