Angel Falling (Falling #1)(50)

“You remind me of your father, Punky.”

“Ma, you say that all the time.” I shook my head and continued pulling my fingers through Aspen’s silky hair.

“I know I do, but seeing you with her reminds me of your father and I years ago when we were young and only had eyes for each other.”

I tensed and looked down but I needn’t worry about what my mother was saying. Aspen was fast asleep against my side.

“What do you think, Ma?” I whispered.

“She’s very beautiful,” she said looking at her.

“She is. And smart too,” I added.

She nodded. “And you love her,” she stated flatly. Never could get one past my mother. Growing up she always knew when Heath and I were getting’ into mischief or trying to sneak extra cookies. She’d even told Heath on his first date with Jess that he “was gonna marry that girl” and low and behold, he did. Now she was reading me like an open book. No use trying to put off the inevitable.

“I do, Ma.”

“And she doesn’t know yet?” Perceptive my Ma was.

I shook my head.

“Why haven’t you told her?” She wasn’t judging me. I could tell she was concerned.

“It hasn’t been the right time. I’ve been healin’ up. She’s been working a lot. I met her family last weekend. It was a disaster.”

“Well, she’s still here with you so it couldn’t have been that bad. Obviously that means something.” I shrugged. “Do you think she loves you, dear?”

I closed my eyes. That was the magic question of the year. Did Aspen love me? And if she did, why? I wasn’t rich. I couldn’t give her the lifestyle she was used to. Hell, I didn’t even know if I could stay in New York and not go back home. She’d never leave her company. It was too successful. So if I wanted her, I’d have to make some sacrifices. Was I prepared to do that? I didn’t know.

There was a lot still to work through. I know if she loved me, though, we could get through it all. We’d make it work, somehow.

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “I just don’t know.”

“Well, son, looks like you need to buck up and get yourself the girl then.”

“You’re right, Ma. But how?”

“We’ll figure it out, baby. Don’t you worry none. Mama’s here now.”

Somehow I knew my mother was going to get all up in my business with Aspen. It was surprising how little I cared. I could use all the help I could get. I did worry about her methods, though.

“Lord help us all,” I whispered into Aspen’s hairline. She snuggled in deeper and my mother laughed.





Chapter 12



Put in grounds. Check. Add water. Good. Press start. Okay. I can do this.

Gustav was allowed a sick day; I could handle coffee. Hopefully. If Hank hadn’t woken me after the car ride and proceeded to ravage me through the night I wouldn’t be so damned tired. The man was insatiable. I mean, sure, I went through a huge dry spell and have been pretty satisfied over the past several weeks, but a girl has got to get some sleep. Last night was something else. It’s as if he was starved and I was his first meal in weeks. Thinking back, the things he did to me could be considered illegal in some countries. The man was going to kill me.

Death by orgasm.

The thought gave me a little chuckle. My thighs quivered at the memory of how many times he brought me to release with his mouth alone. Jesus!

The coffee dripped slowly as I enjoyed the memories of last night.

“Mornin’, pretty girl,” I heard the sweet voice of Hank’s mother.

Hank’s mother … crap!

The fact that we had company had been lost on me in my sex-induced, sleep-deprived haze. I closed my eyes and tried not to look completely mortified by my appearance. My hair up haphazardly thrown into a messy bun, braless, and standing there in nothing but black lace panties, easily visible through Hank’s white, buttoned-down dress shirt. The one he wore to dinner last night. It was the first thing I found when I climbed out of bed this morning. I could feel the flame of embarrassment creep up and across my chest. Not only was his mother going to hate me, she was going to think I was a hoochie, too. Way to make a great impression.

Gripping the edges of the shirt, I tried in vain to pull it down to cover up more of my bare legs. It didn’t work. Fate sealed, I turned around. She looked bright and chipper, perfectly put together this sunny morning. God, I wanted to hate her so bad. “Good morning. Coffee?”

“Sure, thanks.” She beamed a full glowing megawatt smile. Did everyone in his family wake up happy? Hank was the same way. Her eyes took in my clothing or lack thereof. “Looks like you had quite the evening.”


A flush swept across my entire body. My skin must have been bright pink. “I’m so sorry. Honestly, I forgot you were here. This is highly inappropriate … ”

She cut me off. “Are you kidding? I’m married to a Jensen, honey. If Hank is anything like my Henry, and based on what you’re wearin’,” she pointed a finger up and down and then stopped at the collar of my shirt, “and that huge love bite there on your neck says he is, you could end up permanently bow-legged.”

There was only one way to handle this conversation. Laughter. Deep, huge bouts of belly aching guffaws overtook me. Tears sluiced down my face. Hank entered wearing only pajama bottoms, his massive, beautifully honey-colored skin on perfect display. He came over to me and patted my back.