Angel Falling (Falling #1)(38)
Just hearing my ma’s voice made me homesick. Looks like I’d have news to share with Aspen. This ought to make for an interesting evening. I wondered how she would take it.
“Come on, Hank. I’m wasting away out here!” Oliver’s squeaky voice came from beyond the dressing room door. “How long could it possibly take to put on a pair of jeans?”
“Hold your horses, boy!” He was like an angry mosquito that you couldn’t shake.
I left the solace of the dressing room.
“You ready, Cowboy?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Chapter 9
Oliver put the finishing touches on my hair. He had pulled it into a sleek bun with loose tendrils of hair framing my face delicately and a few dime-sized crystals pinned around the bun. They matched the earrings and bracelet he chose for the evening. The dress was new, but one of my favorites. It was simple: a strapless bodice and a hemline that hung just to my knees, deep royal blue, and, at the waist, a satin gray belt.
The look was definitely a newer trend, almost a play on a business suit but with a lux fabric and sheen. Oliver paired it with sky-high gray suede platforms. They had crystals capped at the back that continued along down the line of the heel. Sexy as hell.
After checking myself out in the mirror, Oliver and I both agreed that I looked hot. This was the first time in a long time that I’d dressed to please a man instead of the guest list. It made me feel young and girly—two ways I would have never described myself. Ever.
As I stepped out of my room, Hank was just leaving his.
“Damn, Angel. You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. C‘mere, let me look atcha’.”
He grabbed my hand and twirled me around slowly. I allowed it, captivated by the spell he had me under. Once I’d finished the spin he laid his big paws on my hips, encircling my waist. His hands could almost touch each other. He made me feel so small and dainty. Most men I’d dated were only an inch or two taller and I had to keep myself really lean in order to not look out of place standing in pictures next to them. The last thing I’d needed in the society pages was fat commentary. My mother would never let me live it down. Hank, though, he was enormous. I looked downright petite with him, and I loved it.
“You sure clean up nice, Stud.” I fingered his royal blue tie. He stood before me in a steel gray suit. His eyes bore more of the green than caramel hue this evening. His dress shirt was bright white and lightly lined with tiny blue pinstripes.
Oliver was damned good at his job. The overall effect was drop-dead gorgeous. With looks like these, I’d need to keep my eyes on him all night. Otherwise he’d be bombarded by all the slutty socialites with nothing to do but play Monopoly with their trust funds and squander away hot men.
“Oh, the two of you make the perfect couple. You two should be on the first cover of Bright Magazine!” Oliver gushed.
The doorbell rang and Hank held his arm out for me to take. I loved his old world charm. “If I had half a brain I’d blow off this event and take you back into that room and have my wicked way with ya,” he whispered in my ear. His breath made the hair on the back of my neck tingle.
I smiled coyly at him as we made our way to the foyer. Oliver was kissing Dean when we approached. When Hank saw the PDA between Oliver and Dean, he turned a tad pink. Oliver didn’t care who saw him with Dean. Never had. He’d only ever been in the closet long enough to kiss boys that were still in there.
Hank cleared his throat. Dean smiled and pulled away first. Oliver stared into Dean’s eyes, obviously love-struck. They made for a great team; I was thrilled that my Ollie had a mate. If only I was so lucky.
Dean held his hand out to Hank. “You must be the hunk I’ve heard so much about.” Dean gave him a sly grin.
He was tall, much taller than Oliver. He had a large enough build to tuck Oliver into his side to shake hands, but he was not quite as large as Hank. His thick black hair was slicked back into a sleek cut, and he had dazzling blue eyes that swirled with mirth as he held Oliver close.
It was obvious that Dean was the alpha male in this relationship, but the man was a complete dichotomy. Most of his career had been spent doing makeup and hair for the modeling industry. That’s how he and Oliver met. Then one day, he up and left it to become a firefighter. He was definitely one of the prettiest firemen I’d ever seen. He’d recently appeared in a sexy fireman’s calendar “showcasing his assets,” as Oliver put it.
“It’s Hank, but never hurts the ego to be called a hunk!” Hank shook Dean’s hand as they both laughed. “Hear you’re a firefighter? Back home I used to volunteer with the fire department to help out now and again.” Hank had never mentioned that. There was still so much we didn’t know about one another. I enjoyed finding out these little tidbits.
“Guilty. I love getting my hands dirty. Men’s work, you know?”
“Abso-f*cking-lutely, bro!” Hank clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He seemed to take to Dean so quickly. Made me wonder why he didn’t have the same ease with my Ollie.
The two continued their “men talk” as we entered the elevator. Oliver came to me and hugged me tight. “Our boyfriends are getting along. Isn’t this so exciting? Dean hated Grant with a passion.”
“Dean hates me with a passion, not Grant,” I reminded him.