Page 19 of Angel's Smoke

“Oh, like you weresuggestingI take better care of my shed or my car’s brakes?”

“Nope. Because those things are on your list, and you’ve made it very clear your list is your responsibility. I’m not privy to the list, so I can’t comment on it. But I figured I was allowed to comment on the breakers since that’s what I came to help with. The sleep thing just seemed like something you’d benefit from, being human and all.”

Anna shook her head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Heat crept up the back of Iron’s neck, a heat that was very much fueled by more than mere blood vessels. Inside, his fire was roiling in and around itself, pressing beneath his skin for release.

Iron swallowed, dipped his head, and offered a quick “You know how to reach me” before about-facing and getting his ass out the door. Fuck, he hadn’t even touched her, and his fire was already reaching to claim that which it had never known but couldn’t exist without.

And hell if he’d risk his uncontrollable angel fire coming out surrounded by a goddamn log cabin. No, he had to get out of there while his actions were still ruled by some form of higher reasoning.

There was time. He’d take his time with her, get to know her leisurely. Maybe even do what the mortals did and ask her out on a few dates. Then, slowly, he’d find a way to explain things, and they’d learn together, understand and answer questions in a calm and safe way.

He was Iron. He was a sentinel of the Empyrean. He was?—

His boots skidded to a halt when he saw the rows of thick tree branches that had fallen in front of his truck, blocking him in.

He was about to tear off his glove, bring his power forth, and torch the suckers when something urged him to look back at the house. Sure enough, the corner of one gauzy curtain was peeled back and Anna’s curious form was watching him through the window. Not even a hint of shyness there. Oh no. That girl wanted him to know she was keeping tabs on him.

Which also meant he couldn’t use his celestial strength to pitch each of those logs into the woods, let alone scorch everything to cinders.

A sharp wrapping of knuckles on glass had him squinting back at her. To his surprise, she lifted the stiff window, ducked her head out into the snowy wind, cupped her mouth, and yelled, “Caber toss!”

The comment would have been hilarious, if not for the unfortunate truth it highlighted about his circumstances—a truth he was painfully aware that Anna now knew as well.

Until the storm was over and the road could get cleared by more conventional means, Iron was going nowhere.

Unless he revealed the truth to her, and for a woman who could barely manage to keep her own life in order, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to survive being dragged into his.

Chapter10

Something about the words “You know how to reach me” being the last phrase Iron cast in Anna’s direction set her insides to vibrating. Whether or not he actually meant the agitation was less of a concern than the final result.

Her cells, and her senses, weren’t quite ready for him to leave just yet.

Padding over to the window, Anna drew back the curtain and watched as his broad back, hunched forward against the wind, traveled down her driveway. He navigated the mounting snow like a snow leopard, all grace and careful footing as his large boots seemed to distribute his weight evenly with each trudging strep. The figure he cut through the snow was an enthralling one, captivating her despite her weariness. Man, she still couldn’t believe he’d shown up. And maybe that was what made it so hard to watch him walk away.

His hand had already gripped the driver’s side door handle when he froze, and she followed his hooded head as it swiveled farther down the road leading to her house. A slew of not-so-insignificant tree branches had fallen, barricading the only way down the mountain in unorganized crosshatches. Nothing she’d entertain moving on her own even before her pregnancy, but she was not Iron. Iron was not her. And Iron, she instinctively knew, was not most men. No, he possessed the stature of a Roman gladiator who fought lions for warmups and obviously had a hang-up over obstacles in his way, be they literal or figurative.

He could move the branches. They weren’tthatunmanageable, at least from what she could see of them through the wind-whipped snow.

Anna bit her lip and snorted into the balled-up comforter still curled up around her hands. It was just too perfect.

She wouldn’t . . .

She shouldn’t . . .

The window was thrown open a second later. She encircled her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Caber toss!”

But when he looked back at her, he didn’t offer a smile acknowledging a joke out of politeness. Instead, he adopted a downtrodden grimness that set his features into stone. That was when she realized something was wrong. He began walking back to her cabin, and she met him at the door. His boots had barely hit her porch welcome mat before the truth of their circumstances revealed themselves.

Those branches were far bigger than she’d thought.

“You’re blocked in, aren’t you? Like, for real?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

---