“No. I came for cake.” I raised the to-go boxes as proof. “Finding him was an accident.”
“A happy surprise.” The guy in the bold shirt chuckled. “That seems to be a common thread in a lot of relationships.”
“W-we’re not in a relationship,” I said.
Dating Angel would be a disaster. A fun, hot mess. What would the recovery be on something like that?
Angel flashed me another smile and gestured ‘one minute’ with his pointer finger.
My heart skipped a beat. That was my body’s way of warning me away from him.
The guy in the bold shirt combed his goatee with his fingers. “Hey, all kinds of relationships are valid. My girlfriend and I were friends, first, and now I’m friends with the ex I was dating when we met. Angel’s good at heart, whatever your connection is.”
That sounded suspiciously like an endorsement.
“Have you ever dated him?” I asked.
Angel strode up and slung his arm around the guy’s shoulders. “Please. He couldn’t handle me.”
“Ha, probably not. Zero’s more my speed.” The guy patted Angel's chest. “But I still love you platonically, buddy.”
Angel snorted. “What’d you bring?”
His friend opened the box. “I got your Valentine’s order.”
I peeked between their shoulders, shocked by the pop of color and fuzz. The box was packed with fat, fluffy bears and cute plushie treats. What a giant, lovely gesture.
“Is all that for one person?” I asked, slightly in awe.
His friend chuckled. “You think Angel would—”
Angel nudged him hard. “They’re for a restaurant promotion.”
“Oh, well they’re lovely.” I shuffled closer, lured by the aromas of chocolate, caramel, flowers, and fruits. “Are they scented?”
“Yep.” His friend beamed, rubbing the spot Angel’d elbowed him. “Highest quality in town.”
I brushed my fingertips against the silky fur and smiled at the menagerie of cute faces. “They’re a wonderful present.” Much better than anything in the hospital gift shops or general stores.
Angel jerked his chin. “Pick one, pigeon. My treat.”
His friend shot him a curious look.
I backed away from them. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. You already gave me the cake. I really should pay for this.” I reached for my wallet, but Angel gently clasped my elbow.
“Please,” he said, his voice soft. “Let me.”
My pulse quickened.
What would happen if I let him take care of this? Of me?
My gaze dropped to his lips.
It was all so tempting to believe I’d finally found something—or someone—right for me.
A lovesick serenade blasted from my pocket.
I jumped, shocked back to reality. “E-excuse me.” I hurried a few paces away to answer my phone. “Hello?”
