A Season of Angels (Angels Everywhere #1)(52)

She shrugged.

“Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that.”

“Don’t call me that.” She backed away from him, as far as she could go, until her bu**ocks were pressed against the edge of her desk.

“What would you like me to call you?”

It was a mistake to have asked him to stay, a mistake to let him know how much of the time he dominated her thoughts. He made her weak where she’d once been strong, and she’d found no compensation for what she’d lost.

“I think you should go,” she whispered.

He cocked his thick brows at that. “You don’t seem to know what you want, do you? You want me to stay, yet you invite that mild-mannered choirboy for dinner.”

“My father invited him.”

“Ah, your father,” Chet said thoughtfully. “Michael’s the type of man he wants you to marry, isn’t he? We both know what your daddy would think of the likes of me.”

“That’s not true. My father isn’t like that.”

“Sure,” he scoffed. “He’d welcome me with open arms. Don’t kid yourself, Monica, we both know better. Listen, sweetheart, forget I was ever here, all right?”

“No. No, I won’t forget,” she whispered heatedly. “I can’t forget.”

She read the questions etched in his eyes and realized they were a reflection of her own. She didn’t have any of the answers and apparently neither did he.

Walking toward him was the boldest thing she’d ever done in her life. Flattening her palms against the hard expanse of his chest, she slowly, reluctantly raised her eyes to his.

He didn’t give her a chance to speak. His mouth came down on hers in a kiss that was as hot as it was wild. Instinct dictated her actions as she raised her arms and looped them around his neck, giving herself completely to his kiss.

His arms folded around her waist, greedily holding her against him as his mouth plundered hers. Her feet dangled several inches off the ground.

The kiss ended only when they were both desperate to breathe.

Monica was left stunned, her heart in a panic. It had always been like this between them, this craziness. Her head felt as if it were in its own orbit, spinning madly out of control. Emotionally she was a wreck, close to tears and trembling.

Chet’s lips returned to hers in a series of long, slow kisses and her world righted itself. Everything slipped neatly back into place. Only when she lifted her head from his did outside influences overtake her.

For the love of heaven, they were in a church building, and yet she couldn’t have left his arms in that moment for all the gold in the world.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” Chet whispered against her neck. He drew in a deep breath as if that would give him the necessary fortitude to ease her out of his arms.

“Not yet,” she pleaded.

The sound of voices in the yard outside was all the incentive they needed. They broke apart as if they’d been burned.

“That’s my father,” Monica said, her gaze flying to Chet.

Chet jerked his head both ways. “I’ll go out the window.”

“That’s crazy.”

By the time she reached him in her father’s office, he’d hoisted the window open and had one leg draped over the sill. “Meet me tonight,” he said.

“When?” she pleaded, glancing over her shoulder. “Where?”

“Never mind.”

“No,” she whispered frantically. “Tell me when and where.”

He smiled, and the look in his eyes was enough to cause spirals of heat to coil in her belly. He reached for her, kissed her once hard and fast and whispered, “I’ll let you know.” With that he vanished.

The door opened and her father casually strolled inside, humming softly to himself. He looked surprised to find her standing there.

“Monica.”

“Yes, Dad?” she said, still trapped in a sensual daze.

“You might want to close the window. It’s downright chilly in here.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, lowering it as if it were nothing out of the ordinary to have it open in the middle of December.

“I’ll open the door for you,” Timmy cried, running toward the front porch, leaving Glen to untie the Christmas tree from the top of his car.

“Timmy has his own key,” Jody explained, catching the rope that Glen tossed down to her as he untied the tree.

Glen looked toward the front of the house. “He enjoyed himself this afternoon, didn’t he?”

Jody smiled and nodded. “I swear he was like a jackrabbit, leaping from one tree to the next, certain each time he’d found the perfect Christmas tree. It’s a miracle we were able to convince him to choose just one.”

“What about you, Jody?” Glen asked thoughtfully. “Did you have a good time too?”

It shouldn’t be so difficult to admit to the truth, but it was.

“I had a very nice time,” she said, keeping her eyes averted.

His laugh came unexpectedly. “Good girl,” he praised. “I knew you could do it.”

Jody laughed then too, because it was rather silly of her to hold out against the obvious.

Timmy returned breathless and excited. “The door’s open,” he announced, eager to help in any way he could.