Page 50 of Desiring an Angel

“Doesn’t feel too safe right now,” he muttered, and I bit back a smirk.

Skylar threatened him in oh so many good ways.

“Give her a chance.”

“I’ll try, baby, but I’m so damn tired.”

I squeezed him tighter, my heart overflowing with the vulnerability he’d been showing lately.

A soft sigh drew our attention to the doorway.

Skylar stood there staring. She mumbled something about dinner and hurried off.

Rhett scowled at the spot she’d vacated.

“You scared her away—and don’t tell me your frown was an involuntary reaction.”

“It was.”

I rolled my eyes and messed up his hair again before moving toward the hallway. “Let’s go eat, and for the love of fucking my sweet ass, please be kind. Skylar has heard enough negativity and judgment for her personality.”

“You mean immaturity,” Rhett muttered from behind me.

“Her sunshiny attitude,” I corrected him while glancing over my shoulder to find him fixing his hair again. “Give her a chance, Rhett,” I repeated. “Please.”

Lips pressed into a tight line, he nodded and followed me from our bedroom.

Skylar had set the table with precision, flatware aligned on their proper sides, glasses of wine off to the right and closer to the center than the water glass. She even had the dessert fork laying above the plates and cloth napkins folded atop to look like fans.

Surely Rhett would approve.

I lifted an eyebrow his way, but he ignored my unspoken nudge and moved to the head of the table.

Skylar came in from the kitchen, a cut-up chicken on the platter in her shaking hands.

I hurried to take it from her before she dropped it.

“Thanks,” she whispered and eyed the spread as I set the dish down. “That’s everything…”

I pulled out her chair to the left of Rhett and helped settle her before rounding around my lover to sit across from her. My grin stretched my lips even though neither of the people sitting down to dinner with me appeared happy to be there.

My mouth watered regardless of the tense silence, and I picked up the chicken platter, ready to fill my plate.

“So what did you do all day yesterday and today?” I asked Skylar and handed her the chicken.

“Um…walked on the beach? Searched online for job openings?” She made the statements more like questions as though asking if we approved of her actions, and my smile threatened to dissolve.

Talk about fucking baggage. I wanted to pull her into my arms and help her find her fiery confidence I’d caught sight of a few times with how she tilted her chin in small acts of defiance.

“Did you find anything that sounds promising?”

“There’s a grocery store a few miles away hiring baggers.”

I piled some mashed potatoes on my plate while glancing over at Rhett.

He frowned—big surprise.

At least the boy ate his veggies. Half his plate was filled with the roasted broccoli, his favorite.

---