Wounded Wings (Cupid Chronicles) Page 17

  She patted the top of the water. “Then come on in. The water’s nice.”

  Finally, he nodded then slid off his shoes. Her breath caught because she knew what would be next.

  Wait for it . . . wait for it . . .

  But it never came. He pulled off his flannel, but left the T-shirt on.

  Hot damn.

  Even still, he was Magnificent. Yes, that was with a capital M.

  She turned away to collect herself and didn’t peek again until she heard the soft ripple of water when he slipped down the stairs into the pool. The water swished and she listened until she felt his body heat searing her back.

  Slowly she faced him, her eyes downturned. Waist-deep water on her was more like crotch-level on him. Double hot damn.

  She lifted her eyes up to his, but not before she caught sight of his perfectly sculpted biceps that screamed for her to run her fingers along them and she wondered what treats were hiding under his shirt. Did he have that fine trail of hair pointing to . . .?

  “Naomi?” His voice was low, gritty.

  “Yeah?”

  “Are we going to swim?”

  Swim? She blinked. Yes. Right. Swim. “Yeah.” She stepped back and took a breath to focus herself.

  “What do you want me to do first?”

  Kiss me? Lick me? Oh, God, get yourself together! “Okay.” She pointed a look at him. “First thing we gotta do is work on holding your breath.”

  He smiled. “I think I can handle that.”

  And he did. And more. For the next hour they practiced holding his breath and floating on his back, and she finally got him to put his head under the water.

  He came up sputtering. “Oh, Father!”

  She tilted her head. “Huh?”

  He glanced away as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “It’s nothing. What’s next?”

  She studied him a moment. “Well. We keep practicing that, for starters.”

  He studied her in turn, making her stomach clench as his eyes dipped to her scarred arm. “What happened to you?”

  The sincerity in his face wasn’t threatening. He didn’t seem to just want a bit of gossip, like so many others, or to pity her sad past. It was almost as if he understood somehow, and her crazy heart tripped at the idea.

  She swirled her hand under the water, hiding her scars. “I was burned as a kid. Boiling water.” She chanced a peek at his eyes. “My biological mother wasn’t the most attentive.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Biological mother?”

  A wry half-smile tugged her lips. “Yes. Vi’s not my real mom. Her and her husband, Paul, took me in as a mouthy foster kid when I was about ten.”

  He appeared to digest this information as he pushed off and floated on his back silently for a while in the move she’d taught him. Good boy! Such a quick learner.

  He finally stood and faced her. “Well, I am sorry you had to be hurt as an innocent child. I think you are incredibly strong to have overcome that pain.”

  He didn’t wait for her to reply as he picked up her arm and examined her scars with an expression of true tenderness, which nearly melted her. “And I think Vi and her husband were very special people to love you. I’m glad they did.” He smiled his heart-stopping grin and Naomi couldn’t help but smile back.

  “I couldn’t agree more, Eli.”

  He nodded and dropped her hand. “So, shall I keep holding my breath?”

  “I . . . I think that’s good for today. Once you’re comfortable with being under the water, we can start working on actually moving.” She laughed. “You’re so gung-ho, I think we need to put you in the benefit’s dunk tank.”

  His gaze snapped back to her. “What?”

  She sobered a bit. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. That would probably raise a lot of money. You’re pretty popular in town nowadays. What do you think?”

  He rolled to his back again. “I dunno.”

  She forced herself to glance away from his beautiful arms, but she only landed on his crotch. She zipped her gaze away and focused on their chairs. At least that was safe. “Why not?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally he spoke. “One lesson doesn’t make me comfortable with water, Naomi.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. She hadn’t considered he might be afraid. He’d done so well. He seemed so at ease. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”

  “But I’ll do it for Emma,” he continued.

  “You will?”

  He stood, his gaze searing. “I will.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “And we can have a few more lessons before then if you’d like. And the dunk tank isn’t deep, Eli. You can stand in it. You have nothing to worry about. It’ll be fun. I promise.”

  He searched her eyes, as if seeking some truth. “The water is truly the last of my worries, Naomi.”

  Elijah sat across from Naomi at the ice cream parlor watching her lick her cone and wondered why he’d agreed to subject himself to the dunk tank.

  Or more time with her.

  It had to stop and he’d brought her here to tell her. No more.

  He’d managed to keep the scars on his back hidden, but it was the scars on his heart that were proving to be harder to conceal the longer he was with her. Something about her called to him. Automatically, his eyes dipped to the puckered skin of her left arm. Sometimes he found himself fantasizing that she understood. That they could have a future.

  But he was just torturing himself.

  He had no future other than the fruitless road to redemption he was on. He let his gaze slide to the table as he dipped his spoon into his own melting sundae.

  Her little moan of pleasure had his pants tightening. Man, he thought his body was over its silly little reactions.

  “So,” she said, bringing his attention back to her. “I’m pretty excited that the benefit is coming together so well, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. He was just glad it was almost over. He had to move on afterward. Where to, he had no idea. Just away.

  Her little pink tongue darted out and licked her cone again. “Well . . . I’m just happy that Vi should be home and on the mend in plenty of time and that will be off my chest.”

  “Yes. That’s good,” he said half-heartedly. He couldn’t really concentrate.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Besides I’m a heartless, soulless wretch who feels more for you then I have a right to? “I—”

  She studied him with her glinting emerald eyes. “I guess I should ask what’s wrong?”

  The bell above the door tinkled as another customer walked in, but she kept her focus on him. He watched as a stream of pink ice cream dribbled down her cone and onto the table. “Nothing.”

  “Liar.”

  He gazed up at her. “It’s complicated.”

  She nodded once. “Same ol’ song and dance, huh, Eli?”

  A half-smile curved his lips. She was something special. “I suppose.”

  She was silent for several heartbeats then she glanced at his melted ice cream. “You done?”

  He nodded.

  She jumped up and tossed both of their half-eaten desserts before returning to him. She stood next to him, making him peer up into her face. “Can I ask you something, Eli?”

  “Sure.”

  “Putting your issues aside . . . whatever they are . . . do you have feelings for me?” She blinked and glanced down, then back up and met his eyes bravely. “Like I have for you?” she added on a near whisper.

  Oh, God. He swallowed. No matter how it might wound him further, he could not—would not—lie to her. “Yes.” His voice was straine
d. Tortured.

  She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Good enough.” She held out a hand. “Ready to go?”

  That was it? She was willing to let it go at that? Fair enough. He gripped her hand and stood, glancing at her face to try and gauge her reaction to his admission. Nothing.

  As they neared the door, it opened and a group of women entered.

  “Eli!” one of them squealed before throwing herself into his arms, disengaging his and Naomi’s hands.

  Surprised, he glanced down into a familiar face. “Uh . . .”

  The petite brunette giggled. “It’s Claudia. From choir!” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and he caught a whiff of her musky perfume.

  He set her away from him, but she kept a possessive grip on his forearm. “Oh, right.” He shot a helpless glance to Naomi, who looked none too pleased. “How are you?”

  Her thumb rubbed up and down his arm. “I’m fine. And you? I haven’t seen you in a while.” She practically purred as her friends crowded around, blocking Naomi out.

  “I, uh—” He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never been in a situation like this, but it didn’t feel right.

  Well, Naomi apparently knew exactly what to do and had no compunction about it. She butted her way through the small herd of women and plucked Claudia’s hand from his arm while offering what could only be described as a shark-like smile. “Excuse me,” she said as she sidled right up into his personal space. “We were just leaving, weren’t we?”

  “Yes . . .” He was trapped in the heat of her gaze. “. . . Leaving.”

  Everything and everyone dropped away as she threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and leaned up on her toes. He sucked in a breath as her lips sealed onto his in a kiss that shouted Mine to the other women. Even he caught it.

  And he didn’t mind a bit.

  She might have kissed him two seconds or two minutes, he had no idea. But eventually she stood back and smiled into his eyes. The sparkle there, the saucy grin, it was too much. “Come on.”

  They ignored the stunned murmurs of the other women as he let her lead the way out and into the growing darkness. Once they got to the car, he’d regained his senses. He rounded on her and cornered her between him and the hood.

  “What was that?”

  Her eyes dipped. “I’m not sure. They just pissed me off.”

  His heart thundered in his ears as blood rushed, hot and heavy, through his veins. His human body had never felt so vulnerable. So . . . mortal.

  Something invisible chinked away at the armor of his heart, his soul. What was she doing to him? He clenched and unclenched a fist at his side against the inner agony. Maybe it was time to give up the fight.

  He felt like he was in a freefall.

  But was he alone?

  He gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, indicating the space between them, not sure himself. But he didn’t seem to be able to help himself. Not where she was concerned. But it felt like it was inevitable. And that scared him to death.

  Apparently, he was destined to go to hell after all.

  Chapter 23

  Was she sure about what?

  Naomi stared into Eli’s deep, dark, endless eyes and tried to fathom what in the world he was talking about. But, for the life of her, she was lost. Her emotional radar felt skewed as her heart raced to the rhythm of her zipping nerves.

  He stepped closer, his breath mingling with hers. Sweet. A hint of chocolate. She licked her dry lips and his eyes dipped to watch the motion of her tongue.

  His hand, still on her chin, moved to cup her neck. She automatically gripped his waist.

  Please, her mind screamed. Please kiss me without retreating and calling me a sin.

  He seemed to read her thoughts.

  He dipped his head and nuzzled the corner of her lips. She sucked in a breath and squeezed a fistful of his T-shirt.

  He sucked on her full lower lip then trailed to the other side of her mouth. “. . . because I’m not . . .” he whispered against her cheek.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “You’re not what?”

  He rested his forehead against hers until they were nose to nose. “Sure.”

  She flexed her fingers, gripping his shirt tighter. “About what, exactly?”

  His eyes closed momentarily. “You.” He opened his eyes. “Me. Us.”

  And women were supposed to be the ones who over-thought everything. “Well, I’m not, either. But not everything is a sure bet. Why can’t we just enjoy each other right now? Leave what happens tomorrow for tomorrow.” She pecked a kiss to his frowning lips. “Don’t be so serious, Eli. I know nothing’s forever.”

  If anything, his brows dipped further. “Really?”

  She tugged his pelvis toward her until they were as close as they could be with clothes on. “Yes. Really. Now kiss me again.”

  He studied her face for a few seconds as if trying to see if she was serious. She smiled and shoved back any doubt. He was a temporary treasure. Perfection for her to hold today. And she fully intended to do just that. The possible pain of losing him could wait. She’d be stronger tomorrow, after another taste of him. She sucked it up and tipped her face in silent invitation.

  Finally, something clicked in his features and she felt the melting in his muscles as he relaxed into her arms. He hugged her tighter and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that whipped through her system, as potent as any drug. As his tongue parted the seam of her lips, there was no mistaking the possession of his body around hers. Or the response of her heart.

  His.

  Michael bit his thumbnail and stared at Pastor Donovan’s closed office door. He hated being out of the loop.

  What was going on in there?

  Jophiel and the Pastor had been holed up in there for the better part of an hour without even a peep.

  Feeling as useless as a halo in hell, Michael jumped up and started pacing the little waiting area. He stopped and studied a 5 x 7” framed photo of the Pastor’s family. All before Mrs. Donovan had become ill. Michael grinned at the happy family and the healthy, vibrant woman Janet Donovan had once been.

  He set the photo back and resumed his treading of the thin carpet. He examined every potted plant, every painting. He parted the mini-blinds and peeked out the window. Nothing of interest in the parking lot except for his blue Beetle and Pastor’s station wagon.

  He turned at a shuffle behind the closed office door, but it didn’t open. What on Father’s green earth could’ve brought a Prophecy angel to New Destiny and, more specifically, to their tiny church? Oh, who was he to question when he was having so much difficulty with his own daunting assignment?

  He shuffled over and plopped back into his chair, his heart heavy. He may be prepping to be the new leader of Love Detail, but sometimes he still felt like a novice. But he’d had to remind himself more than once that this assignment was nothing like his others. He was literally back to the drawing board with a fallen brother.

  I daresay it’s staring you right in the face, friend.

  What? What could it be? He’d do anything to help, not just for the sake of love, but for his soul.

  The door finally opened and Michael snapped to attention. He stood with a smile, but it quickly slid off his face when he saw the somber expressions that greeted him. His eyes pinged back and forth between Jophiel and Pastor, trying to gauge what might be happening, but Jo’s eyes were impossible to read.

  Pastor extended his hand to Jophiel, and Michael saw for the first time that his eyes were red-rimmed like he’d been crying. “Goodbye. And thank you.”

  Jophiel accepted his handshake with a nod. “God bless you.”

  The Pastor nodded and blinked rapidly as thoug
h holding back another rush of tears. “He certainly has.” He indicated Michael with a quick tip of his head then moved and shut himself into his office with a soft click of his door.

  Michael turned questioning eyes to Jophiel.

  Jo said nothing, just headed for the exit.

  “Uh . . .” Michael rushed after him. “Everything okay in there?”

  “Perfect.”

  They pushed out the church front doors and headed to the car. Michael eyed Jo. He knew an angel’s business was between them and Father, but, still . . . something in the Pastor’s eyes haunted him. What prophecy had he shared with the man? And, why did Michael still feel that it had something to do with his love assignment?

  Jo met his eyes over the roof of the car. He seemed to weigh his words. “Everything will be fine, Brother.”

  Michael reluctantly nodded and slipped into the driver’s seat. He wasn’t going to get any more information.

  But if only Jo could guarantee that everything would really be fine, he’d be sittin’ pretty.

  Chapter 24

  Elijah tried to act like kissing Naomi—holding her, touching her—didn’t mean more than it obviously did to her.

  Don’t be so serious . . .

  Maybe he was cursed with an overly analytical mind. A remnant of his Heavenly days, working for Father. But those days were over. He could enjoy it while it lasted, as she said.

  Couldn’t he?

  Then why did his heart ache painfully at the thought of moving on and leaving her behind?

  He shook his head and got back to work, slicing the tomatoes with a vengeance as he tried to make his heart obey.

  Then, in a sudden, agonizing flash, it came to him and he dropped the knife with a clunk.

  Sarah.

  He hadn’t thought of her in days. Weeks maybe. Not since . . . he leaned against the counter and sucked in a pained breath as realization dawned. Not since Naomi had wrapped herself firmly around his heart. Like a vine, waiting to choke him. Or vice versa.