Page 31 of When the Angel Falls First

Smooth move, angel boy.

“Caleb, you must tell us more about yourself,” Mom said, her tone overly sweet as she leaned in, a ploy to make the interrogation seem casual.

Within the beat of a butterfly’s wings, they bombarded Caleb with an array of irrelevant questions—everything fromhis thoughts on the latest economic developments to his opinions on some obscure painting they’d seen at a gallery—when a hand wrapped around my arm and tugged me backward.

With a wicked grin, my cousin Lena announced, “Josie, I have to borrow you for a moment.” I knew that tone of voice, the one that said she was about to grill me for all kinds of dirty details.

As we moved away from the crowd, I cast a backward glance at Caleb, who was deep in a discussion about trade tariffs with my dad. His eyes met mine for a brief second, and he flashed me a reassuring smile.

Despite the strange situation, I couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly he seemed to navigate the minefield that was my family. Perhaps it was his angelic patience, or maybe he really was that good at holding his own. Whatever it was, it lit me up inside. As much as I loved Lena, all I wanted was to be at his side.

“Josiiie,” Lena began, her voice a teasing sing-song, “I have to hand it to you. This one is a stunner!” She tilted her head toward Caleb, who was humorously impersonating some historical figure to the amusement of my parents. The twinkling lights in the tent accentuated his angelic features, the soft glow making him more striking than usual, if that was even possible.

I must have him.

Lena was still making faces at me, so I rolled my eyes, offering a lighthearted shrug in response. “Yeah, he’s pretty easy on the eyes, right?”

“Wait, wait.” My cousin Emily joined us, her high ponytail bobbing in the air as she was more than six feet tall and built like Superwoman. “Are we talking about the prize Josie snagged?”

“Stop it!” I hissed. “He’s just a guy, a great guy.”

“Great guy?Come on,” Emily continued, her eyebrows rising suggestively. “Have youseenthe muscles on this dude? And in the sack?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “You can’t tell me he doesn’t make you scream six ways from Sunday.” I gasped—not in surprise, because Emily has always loved locker-room talk, but because it was loud enough to be heard by any of Nana’s geriatric guests walking by. Fortunately, no one did. “You’ve got to admit, he is quite the step up from… Well, every other lame-ass guy you’ve ever dated.”

“Hey!” I nudged her playfully, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know my past boyfriends were perfectly—um—adequate.”

Emily snorted with laughter, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “Adequate? Josie, you can’t even call them boyfriends. What about the one who would only let you undress in total darkness? Or the one who sent you a letter in the mail with a relationship contract? Thank goodness they rarely lasted a rotation of the moon. Speaking of which, your lastboyfriendthought that the moon landing was a hoax!”

Despite the jest, her words stung a little. I was a serial dater, it was true. No one could make good conversation, enjoy quality book time, or frankly, just be normal. Making love had become a check-box exercise that left me reaching for a vibrator the second they were out the door.

But most of all, none of them were Caleb.

“Adequate or not,” I said, forcing a smile and attempting to steer the conversation away from the rocky terrain of my past relationships, “I’ll be thrilled if Caleb survives the raking over the coals.”

“Looks like he’s doing just fine.” Emily tipped her head toward the conversation Caleb continued with my parents, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

But I was not so confident.

My father’s eyes were pulled half-shut, and I knew that meant he wasn’t buying it. And Mom was looking off in the distance, barely listening. Perhaps their initial tactics had failed, but the battle wasn’t won. Tension rolled over me like a weighted blanket. Caleb cast me a glance, and I could tell even he was feeling on uncertain ground.

And just like that, the weather cleared.

As the last of the raindrops fell, a cheer erupted from the crowd, a collective sigh of relief. The clouds parted, revealing a brilliant blue sky, bathing the log house in a glorious afternoon light. The guests spilled onto the lawn, their chatter and laughter filling the air as sunshine injected a dose of warmth and optimism. Kids ran around the sprawling garden, their joyous squeals echoing off the tall trees surrounding us as their shoes got damp in the grass. The adults moved tables adorned with bright floral arrangements out from under the tents, their glasses clinking together in celebration. It was as if the party had suddenly burst into life, the sunshine injecting a dose of warmth and optimism that permeated everything. It was, in every sense, a real celebration now.

“I told you all we were going to have a great day!” Nana declared, and we applauded her taking the credit for the weather.

I glanced at Caleb, who seemed to be intentionally avoiding my gaze.

“Little sis,” Fred began as he sidled up to me, his tone sharpened by his characteristic dry wit. “You, the bookstore owner. Quite the far cry from your old Wall Street dreams, isn’t it?”

I smirked, used to his teasing. I tried to give it right back tohim with an overly dramatic reply. “I’ve got books about Wall Street. Maybe you should come check them out.”

“Maybe I should.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Were we still taking jabs? Or was he actually saying he would stop by? With Fred, it was hard to tell.

“You know you’re welcome anytime.” I extended an olive branch. “I’d love to show you around.”

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