Rochelle nods before quickly turning and starting to walk away. Before she can disappear, and remembering the closing time I saw on the shop door coming in, I blurt out, “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Speechless, she turns quickly and meets my stare.
“I told ya,” I grin, taking a step back and heading towards the door. “Everyone needs to eat, Angel.”
A baseball legend once said there were no Angels in Los Angeles, but he was wrong. One look in her eyes, and I knew she was the only way to heaven.
With a wink, I make my way quickly outside before she can respond. Rex follows and doesn’t say a word as we both jump back in the truck. We’re halfway down the road headed back towards campus when he finally says, “What the hell was that about? I thought you were taking a break and playing the field after what Bethany did to you last summer?”
I shake my head and sigh, refusing to answer. Because honestly, I don’t know what that was. Only that I need more of it. More of her.
For the first time, the mention of my ex’s name does nothing to me. But how could it when I just came face to face with an Angel I wasn’t expecting? A savior from everything and everyone that has ever tried to get the better of me, take me for granted, or ride out their time in the limelight of my family’s prestigious life.
Next to my Angel, I got the feeling I could just be me. I didn’t have to pretend.
She has no clue who I am or where I came from. She made me feel - free. And hell, that’s something I haven’t felt in over 10 damn years.
“I don’t know, Roberts,” I admit. “But hell if I am going to let it go without finding out.”
Chapter Two
Rochelle
After every supply has been accounted for, every floor swept and the booth cleaned, I finally find myself grabbing my purse and heading to turn off the lights.
The process of counting inventory took me longer than usual because my brain was wrapped around forbidden thoughts concerning a God of a man. A man that walked in here a few hours earlier, and made me feel important. Valuable. Worthy for maybe the first time in my life. He left demanding he see me again. His presence makes me think things that I never thought possible.
Maybe someone out there does want me.
Maybe I am worthy, despite where I come from and how little I have to offer.
The way he makes me feel scares me, because I can’t help but wonder what the hell he wants with a girl like me.
I purposely live my life shying away from any contact with strangers. If what I went through in my youth was not enough back in Georgia, coming to the West Coast cemented the fact that I am nothing but garbage that should have been taken out years ago. The teasing back home was nothing compared to the chatter and taunts from the very privileged kids in Orange County, California.
Once here, me and Momma found ourselves in a trailer park on the Pacific Coast Highway, better known as PCH, across from the beach. An older gentleman had died in the unit, and the landlord was having problems renting it out, so it came dirt cheap.
Even though the thought still gives me the creeps, it is nothing compared to the teasing I received for where I lived, what little I had, and how worthless I was when every other kid in high school were going out on the town, shopping in the latest boutiques, having bonfires on the very beach right across from our tiny little trashy trailer park. I was forced to watch from afar and knew I could never be deemed worthy enough to cross the line over to the other side.
The stranger from earlier left demanding he see me again. He came in at 8, just like he said he would. I hid in the back, and insisted my boss tell him I was still finishing up. He said he’d wait, so I stayed in the back a little longer than needed. Eventually, I heard the door chime and knew he had to have left, not wanting to stand around any longer. I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t wait around for someone like me either.
Flipping the final light in the shop, the only solace I find now is it is a little past nine, and there is no way he waited over an hour to see me. As I step outside, I fish my keys from my purse to lock up. The door sticks slightly, and it takes me a moment to twist the key to make sure the shop is secure. Turning around, I hurry down the dark sidewalk to start my long walk home. It is only about 10 blocks, but walking it alone at night is always unnerving.
When my feet hit the parking lot, I hear a voice say, “Looks like we missed dinner, but hell if waiting for you wasn’t worth it.”
Coming to an abrupt stop, I nervously stand still. I don’t turn. I don’t look his way. I can’t. I don’t trust myself. Especially when every single part of my soul tingles from just the nearness of him.
Footsteps sound on my right. I keep my gaze fixed on the ground at my feet, afraid to look up and meet his hypnotizing stare. His breathtaking crystal blue eyes will be my downfall. His full lips tempt me towards salacious dreams. His shaved head gives him an edge, and does nothing to stop my thirsty thoughts. My longing, my desire to be claimed by every seductive inch of him.
Soon, he’s standing right in front of me. He bends down trying to catch my eye, but I let them wander to the side as I shift on my feet. His 6’ 5” frame towers over me, and even though I want to look up to take in his broad shoulders, thick muscular biceps, and what I am sure are washboard abs under his plain white T, I don’t. I can’t.
“Come on,” he whispers, taking a step closer. “I thought that was a pretty good line.”
He reaches out and I jolt back, afraid of the way his touch earlier made me crave a connection I’ve never experienced before. I keep my eyes trained away from him, until he does the unthinkable. He slowly reaches out to my face and tenderly takes the glasses from my eyes. Stunned, I glance up as he whispers, “Do you always wear these?”
“No,” I respond quietly. “Only when I am working.”
The smile that graces his face is priceless as our eyes meet. He takes a step closer. I have to remind myself to breathe, to not get consumed by him, although every rational thought in my mind is screaming it’s too late.
