Page 73 of Perfect Assumption
I feel something inside me twist at the way the leaves cling to her hair.She looks like a woodland nymph, something from the deepest part of my desires, rising from the forest to lead me to salvation.I shake my head ruefully at my whimsical thoughts as Angie spends a few moments laughing with my sister, helping Carys remove a few hard-to-reach leaves.
After Carys does the same for her, they join us up on the deck. Angie grabs her cup of coffee and takes a drink before making a face. “Ugh. This is ice-cold. Let me go put on a fresh pot.”
“Do you mind if we move inside, Angie?” David murmurs. Ben is conked out in his arms, clutching a fistful of leaves in one hand. “It looks like this one went out for a power nap.”
“Of course not. Come on in.” While David concerns himself with Ben, the rest of us gather up cups and head into Angie’s home.
“Why don’t you all head into the family room while I get the coffee started? It’s down the hall to the right. Try not to let the devil cat trip you. And protect Ben from her at all costs!” Angie calls out. She points straight ahead to the room we passed on the way in with an enormous bay window overlooking the lake.
David and Carys immediately comply, but I drag my heels in the hall when I spy the neatly framed collage of photos on the wall. Immediately, I’m taken in by the progression of years from the young flame-haired girl with gap teeth to the woman I work with. Leaning closer, I blink in shock. There she is wearing the dress she wore the Valentine’s Day my sister got engaged. Only, her arms are wrapped tightly around the date my sister alluded to her having—an elderly couple at a fancy restaurant. “So many stupid assumptions,” I murmur.So much wasted time.
“About me?” Her voice startles me, and I almost knock the frame off the wall. Her expression holds a mixture of weariness and acceptance.
“I didn’t mean anything derogatory, I was just thinking about…” But Angie doesn’t let me finish my thought. Instead, her words cause me a great deal of chagrin.
“For years, I’ve lived with people thinking horrible things about me, Ward. It’s nothing new. I know things have changed between us.” She tries to move past me with a tray of cups and a new pot of coffee.
I step in front of her to block her path. “Does this have to do with what happened to you?”
Her breath shudders, but her voice is clear. “Yes.”
“Will you tell me? I can’t promise not to hurt you unless I know.”
She tries to edge past me. “I can’t discuss this now.”
“Angie.” I reach out and touch her elbow.
She jerks away, almost upending the tray. “In your entire life, has anyone ever questioned your word? The veracity of your character?” When I don’t respond, she continues. “Be grateful, Ward. Because it makes it impossible not to question everything and everyone.”
Stepping closer, I whisper, “What kind of monster could hurt you like this?”
“I can’t—no, I won’t—bring them here today.”
“But you’ll tell me,” I insist.
“Why? Because, I’m your friend? Have I asked you invasive questions? What gives you the right to do the same?”
And although it’s the truth, I feel her words like a slap across my face. Suddenly, I can’t stay this close to Angie, not after seeing how free she can be. Even now her skin, so ruddy from being outdoors, is paling. Her diamond-bright eyes are losing their luster.
I curse myself roundly before scooting my way around her. This woman has my feelings so muddled I can’t think straight. “Tell them—” I nod in the direction of the family room. “—I got a call. I have to go.”
“Why?” But before I can answer, she bows her head. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer my intrusive questions any more than I have to answer yours.”
I observe her for just a moment before I take three long strides that put me back in front of her. Lifting the tray out of her hands, I put it down on a nearby trunk. Catching her trembling hands in mine, I press my lips to the center of her palm. “I need facts, Angie. I don’t want to make a mistake with you that could end up harming you—and me. After watching you outside and realizing you’re like a fantasy come to life, I’m finding myself impatient for you to catch up. That isn’t fair to you because I made you a promise. It doesn’t mean I get to rush you just because I’m admitting to myself this is right. I’m afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing that could end up hurting you.”
“This is right?” Her lashes blink slowly as she absorbs the impact of my words.
“You. Me. Friends first, remember?” The way the glow spreads back across her face makes me feel like I was granted a boon from some unknown deity.
“But what if I don’t want to just be friends?” The words seem to be out of her mouth before her mind realizes what she said because she gasps.
Without knocking any of her precious family photos off the walls, I let her hands go to brace both arms above her head and watch the late-fall sunlight dance across her face before I make a decision. I feel like I’m in a bubble where the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I can’t hear anything but the pounding of my own heart, the beat of hers. “Stop me if you don’t want my lips on yours.”
Leaning down, I nuzzle my nose against hers. That’s when I feel her arms wrap around my waist. She squeezes me lightly and whispers guilelessly, “Is this the way it’s supposed to feel?”
“What?”
“Need.”
