Page 32 of Fallen Angel
She buried her head in his neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“What’s that,” he asked, suddenly hearing a repetitive beep.
“Oh no,” she gasped behind him.
“What it is?” he said, turning to look at her, but she scurried off the bed.
“Damn it, Ethan. I’m so sorry. It’s my alarm. I didn’t realize the time. I have to go back to work.”
She dashed from the room. He followed her into her closet and watched her frantically grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I can’t be late. I promised Suzi. She has an appointment, so Matty will be on his own.” She pulled on her clothes and hurried from her closet into the kitchen to slip on her chef’s clogs. “I have to go.”
“Give me a minute.” Ethan returned to his bedroom and quickly donned a pair of jeans and a thermal charcoal-colored Henley. Then he pulled on leather boots and grabbed his wallet.
She was standing by the door, clutching her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“Don’t worry, Angel. I’ll drive you. I promise you won’t be late.”
They made it to Bake Off with ten minutes to spare, but when she stood and removed her helmet and their eyes met, he could tell that her anxiety lingered. He reached for her and pulled her close in his arms. “You’re on time. Breathe, Angel.” Brows drawn, he cupped her cheek. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
She nodded and drew a deep breath. “I just got myself worked up, but I’m fine now, just a little hungry.” She pressed a soft, tender kiss to his lips. “Thank you for getting me here on time.”
He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I bathed you, made love to you, but I forgot to feed you.”
She smiled. “It’s a good thing I work at a bakery.”
He pulled her close. “Only for another two days.” He kissed her long and hard, then forced himself to release his hold on her waist. “Go ahead. I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift.”
He watched her disappear inside before he climbed back on his bike.
As he pulled onto Beacon Street, he parked behind Angel’s car. Running his hand over the curve of her hood, he smiled. He had offered to buy her a new car, a Mercedes or Jeep, anything she wanted. But she had refused, saying she now loved her car so much, she couldn’t bear to part with it.
The first leaves of autumn had fallen. A few clung to her windshield. When he pulled them off, he noticed her inspection sticker was due to expire at the end of the month. He headed inside and quickly showered. Then he threw on some old jeans, a white t-shirt, gray hoodie, and work boots and grabbed Angel’s keys off the counter. Once outside, he crossed to Angel’s car, slid onto the white leather seats, and turned the engine over. It purred. He revved the engine a little, pleased with the smooth sound. He had to admit, he was touched that Angel preferred the car he rebuilt. He drove to work, pulling into one of the open bays.
Nathan came right over. “You just overhauled this baby. She’s a beauty. What could she possibly need?”
“A sticker,” Ethan said, getting out of the car and tossing Nathan the keys.
“Do you want me just to throw one on?”
Ethan shook his head. “No. Check it over again just to be sure it’s safe and by the book.”
He headed into the bike shop to check out how Lucky was coming with the build.
“So far, so good,” Lucky said as he polished the embossed metal tank.
Ethan nodded absently while he stroked his hand over a wide, heavy piece of distressed leather that would eventually be the seat. He envisioned an intricate interlace of rope and leather that would mirror an ancient Viking shield. “She’ll be hard to give up.”
“At least it’s going to royalty,” Lucky joked.
“Nick’s an alright guy,” Ethan said, checking the leather for thin spots. “I can tell he appreciates a good thing when he sees it.” Satisfied, Ethan looked at Lucky. “You’re making great time.”
Lucky nodded. “We were a little behind because some of the parts took an extra week to ship, but we made it up with a few late nights.”
“Keep it up. If we finish ahead of schedule, everyone gets a bonus.”
