Angel Falling (Falling #1)(23)
“Um, yeah.” Her eyes never left mine. The need I saw in them could bring any man to his knees. She took a deep breath and broke the spell. “Just getting Hank situated. Thanks for reminding me about the shoot.”
Oliver looked us over with a grin, then focused on Aspen. His lips twitched into a frown when his gaze focused on Aspen’s head. He put his hands up and started fiddling with her hair. He pulled something out of his pocked, and swept a piece of her hair back in place.
“Excuse me? What are you doing?” I knew I had no right or claim to her but another man’s hands on her, touching her in an intimate way, had me ready to stick my boot up his ass.
“Excuse me?” His brows knit together as he kept messin’ with her hair.
I got up and was to her side in two strides. My hand curled around his wrist in a tight grip. “Why the f*ck are you touching her like that?”
His eyes went wide. Good. Little f*cker better keep his hands off my woman.
“Hank?” Aspen looked confused. “He’s fixing my hair.”
“Yeah, Cowboy, looks like some big man paws were rifling through all my hard work.” His pointed glare confused me.
None of this made a lick of sense. “You think I’m thick boy?” My tone came off more as a growl.
“Hank, you’re misunderstanding. Oliver does my hair. He picks all my clothes. He makes sure I’m always put together,” she said.
Explanation received, still in the dark. She must see that I was having a time with this.
“Oliver’s boyfriend was a makeup artist and stylist. Ollie picked a few things up from him over the years.” She smiled sweetly.
“You’re into dicks instead of chicks?” Oliver was gay? That explained a lot. I don’t know how I hadn’t picked up on that earlier. Must have been all the drugs. I looked the man up and down. All the signs were there. He dressed fancy all the time. His hair was never out of place. He even had a perfectly manicured face. Damn, now I felt like an *.
“Well, I guess I’m not needed here anymore now am I?” Oliver turned around and stomped out of the room.
“Ollie, no. He didn’t know.” Aspen yelled after him. “God Damn it, Hank. Haven’t you ever met a gay man before? Jeez. You hurt his feelings.”
I shrugged. “Sorry. I saw him putting his hands all over you and I reacted. Not going to apologize for that, Darlin’, but I didn’t mean to offend him.”
She blew a breath out long and slow. Watching her pink lips pucker in agitation was like calling my dick to attention with a “here boy, come out and play, boy.” This line of thought was not going to get me anywhere but in the doghouse.
“We’ll talk about it later. But you will apologize to him.” Apparently I’d screwed up royally. Looks like the little fella was a big deal to my angel. My over-reactive possessive side was going to be hard to squash down. Gay or not, a man like me didn’t want any man touching his girl.
Aspen was worth the trouble so I conceded to fixin’ it. “I’ll talk to him. He could use a little toughening up though.” It was true. The man freaked out and scampered away like a puppy running away from a rolled up newspaper.
“He is my best friend and the most important person in my life.” Her eyes were harsh. It was the first time I’d seen her truly angry. “You will treat him with respect or this” she gestured between the two of us, “will be over before it has ever even begun.”
The most important person in my life. The phrase stuck but good. I didn’t like it one bit. I was fixin’ to change that about my girl. One day she’d be saying that about me. God-willing.
“I get it. Angel, I’m sorry. I don’t give a rats ass if he’s gay or not. I’ll fix it. Promise.” I tried to touch her hair but she backed away. That stung more than a bumble bee landing one of its stingers in the soft patch of skin at the arch of your foot.
“I’ll be home for dinner. Gustav will take care of your lunch. The in-home nurse will be by in an hour. She’ll be visiting three times a day to change your bandages and set up your cold therapy.” The warmth of our shared experience a moment ago had been destroyed and replaced with a chill so cold it ran bone deep.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
She turned to leave and then stopped at the threshold to the door her back to me, head hung low. “I’m glad you’re here, Hank.” That simple phrase was a start back on the right track.
“Me too, Angel.”
Chapter 6
The last thing on earth I wanted to do was spend an entire afternoon consoling Oliver after Hank’s outburst. He was worried that Hank had a problem with gay men. That wasn’t the issue. It was clear after Ollie left that Hank is possessive and old-fashioned. Something that you didn’t often find in a man on this side of the country. Still, I could maim the man myself for treating Oliver poorly.
Hank said he’d fix it and I have to believe he will. I told Oliver that Hank wanted to talk to him about his behavior and apologize. Of course, my Ollie wanted to pout and hell if he didn’t have the right. Instead, my focus should have been on overseeing our very first photo shoot for Bright Magazine—not dealing with a pissed off gay man with the undeniable power to use guilt better than my holy-rolling Grandmother.