Page 45 of Lips of an Angel

Ignoring those sporadic thoughts and the heat behind my eyes, I shook my head and plastered on the best smile I could manage. “Not one reason. I’m proud of you, Angel.”

Chapter 17

ANGEL

“Angel, darling?”

I flinched like I’d been hit. My head whipped around to Eli, who sat at the kitchen table. I’d been on the couch, pretending to read but staring at the same page for the last hour.

“Why’d you call me that?” I signed. “You’ve never called me that before.”

Eli eyed me in surprise. “And you clearly don’t like it,” he said slowly, “so I’ll refrain from saying it again. But can you please help me make this decision?”

Frustrated, I slammed the book shut and tromped into the kitchen. To make things easier during the planning process, Eli was staying with us above the bar. While it would’ve made the most sense for me to move in with him, I didn’t want to be more than a few feet from Raleigh—even if we were hardly speaking. I hadn’t missed the pain in Raleigh’s eyes when I told him I was engaged. And again a couple of nights ago, when I told him I’d be moving to Seattle. The way I’d broken the news to him hadn’t quite sat right with me either, but it was the responsible thing to do.

Right?

Eli had a spread of objects before him, from fabric samples to books of color swatches. Catering menus littered the other side of the table and no fewer than a dozen boxes of individual cake slices sat piled high on the counter. The mess didn’t stop in the kitchen. I had three suits hanging in my bedroom waiting for me to try on. I was avoiding them like the plague. Frankly, it looked like the Wedding Planner incarnate had thrown up all over the apartment.

I had to hand it to Eli, though: He was organized, excited, and was taking care of nearly everything. Once we’d learned about his acceptance into the early fellowship program, we agreed the wedding day needed to be moved up. Eli had already wanted a short engagement, but his new start date sped up the process so much more. It was either move the wedding up, or wait until we found time to travel—and I didn’t even need to ask to know that Eli wasn’t keen on the idea of waiting. That left us with barely a month between our engagement and our wedding day. Which, to be honest, scared the absoluteshitout of me.

“If you make me taste anymore cake, I’ll be sick again and make you take care of me,” I signed in an attempt to lighten the mood—but it wasn’t far from the truth. Even if it wasn’t the sugar that sat uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach.

Eli smiled. “No more cake, I promise. I’ll never be able to look at German chocolate the same way.” I stepped into his arms, letting his hand rest on my hip, and I tried to feel the same thrill—or at least affection—that I felt with Raleigh. I tried like hell to find comfort in the small action, in the way his hand slightly teased under my shirt.

But I felt nothing. No, it was worse than that: I missed the feeling of Raleigh’s rings dragging across my skin.

Eli held up two color swatches in front of me. “Blissful Blue or Lauren’s Surprise?”

I frowned down at the samples. They were just… blue. “Who’s Lauren?” I asked.

“I don’t know, and honestly I’m scared of what the surprise might be.”

Out of familiarity, I combed my hands through Eli’s hair. He damn near purred and briefly leaned into my touch before he looked up at me, green eyes glittering in the light. “But I love the color itself. What do you think?”

“If you like Lauren, let’s go with that one.” I stamped a kiss to his hair and moved to the couch, hoping that my book would prove a better, or at least more appropriate, distraction.

“But which one doyoulike?”

“I like both.” That was the truth. I liked blue—though there was a distinct shade of blue that tended to be my favorite, and it had nothing to do with Lauren or her surprises.

Eli sighed and let the samples fall to the table. “Angel, please. This is our wedding we’re talking about. I want you involved.”

“I’m going to be involved no matter what color the napkins are.”

“I want you involved in thedecisions,” he repeated.

My phone chimed and I lunged to answer it, hoping it was Raleigh. This was the longest we’d gone without really speaking to each other, and the closer to the wedding we got, the more I felt the distance. When I saw his name on the screen, my heart skipped a beat.

Eli made a disgruntled noise. “Do you have to answer that right now? We’re in the middle of a conversation.”

Reluctantly, I set my phone down before reading the message. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think I don’t care. I’m just not this kind of guy. I’m marryingyou. Lauren and her surprises are the least of my concerns.”

At that, Eli’s face softened—until my phone chimed again and I looked away. With something approaching a sigh, he asked, “Is it Raleigh?”

It was. He was asking me to cover the bar. I looked back at Eli, who was staring at me expectantly. His eyes skirted to the side, but he returned his attention to my hands when they moved. “What if it is?”

“Hm?”

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