In A Heartbeat (25 page)

He blew out the candles that had burned to glowing pools of wax, then slipped into the bed beside her.

Almost immediately she turned toward him and snuggled close. His arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders. She was both a gift and an unanticipated complication. But a complication he planned to cherish.

Chapter Twenty

EARLY THE NEXT morning, Oreo’s loud sniffs at the crack of the door woke her from a fabulous dream. Not for the first time, she wished her mother had reconsidered her decision not to put in a pet door. Of course her mother wasn’t the one getting up first thing in the morning to let the dog out.

“I’m coming,” she muttered against the pillow and tried to rise from the bed but couldn’t move. She forced her eyes open to see a man’s arm securing her waist. Memories of the previous night came streaming back. She relaxed. So this is how it felt to wake up next to a man. Nice, very nice. A warm, lazy sluggishness swept her from shoulder to toe. She snuggled backwards to press her back against Hank’s chest. His arm tightened around her and his warm breath stirred the tiny hairs on the back of her neck.

Spooning
, she thought.
That’s what they call this
. Lying like two spoons nestled in a drawer. Oreo whimpered outside the door. Knowing the whimper would soon turn to a bark, Angie reluctantly lifted Hank’s arm so she could slip off the side of the bed.

She found a white terry cloth robe several sizes too large hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Repositioning the belt so that it tied at her waist, she slipped out the door.

Oreo’s tail began a steady sway the minute Angie opened the door. She headed through the great room to the sliding glass doors with Oreo on her heels. Together they went outside into the chill morning.

Angie hopped from one foot to the other, wishing she had thought to search for slippers, while her pet dashed past the covered pool and onto the lightly frosted lawn beyond.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she said, crossing her arms to hold the heat in. Steam puffed with her every exhale. Oreo explored the expansive lawn oblivious to the cold. Angie’s gaze alternated with the dog’s movements and the pink and gold sunrise spreading across the eastern sky.

A quick flash of light burst from the western side of the wide, deep lawn. At least she thought she saw a flash. Tugging the robe tighter, she searched the line of pine trees for movement. Other than a few birds, everything was still and peaceful. She bit her lip. Something didn’t
feel
right, although she’d be hard-pressed to explain what. Oreo trotted to her side, apparently finished with her morning constitutional.

“Good girl,” she said, patting the dog’s head. “Let’s go inside.” Oreo headed immediately for the door. After one last glance to the row of pines, Angie followed.

“HOPE YOU’RE HUNGRY,” Hank called from the kitchen when she stepped through the sliding glass door. He stood at the kitchen counter, a chef’s apron tied over his naked chest. “The pan is heating up. Give me a couple of minutes and we’ll have some bacon and eggs.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, closing the door behind her. She thought to grab the lapels of the robe to cover her scar, but then resisted. After last night she supposed she had little to hide. The realization was empowering. She let the lapels fall back into place and crossed the room toward the kitchen.

“Something smells awfully good,” she said, taking a sip of freshly brewed coffee. Hank laid a couple of slices of bacon in the pan releasing a heavenly aroma and a satisfying sizzle. She smiled. “Sounds good, too.”

If the sight of her scar in the light of day repulsed him, Hank didn’t show it. She relaxed further.

“I thought you’d like some breakfast.” He cracked a couple of eggs and dropped them in the pan, then pointed a long turning fork toward the bar stools at the counter. “Have a seat.”

“Let me get Oreo some—”

He intercepted her the moment she stepped into the kitchen. Closing his arms around her, he pulled her against his chest. “Good morning,” he said. His distinctive male scent wrapped around her as securely as his arms.

The kiss chased the chill from her bones and warmed her like bread popping from the toaster. He tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash, reminding her that she hadn’t performed that little bit of hygiene, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. She lifted her hands to either side of his face with full intent to slide them to his shoulders, but the rasp of his morning stubble intrigued her fingertips and they stayed. She welcomed and encouraged the deepening of the kiss with knowledge born from last night’s passion. He growled deep in his throat, delighting her.

“Angel,” he murmured under his breath. He rubbed his scratchy cheek against hers for a moment. He pulled back. “How are you feeling this morning?”

At this very moment, she felt fabulous, womanly, and very, very normal. “Great,” she said. “Why?”

“After last night, I wasn’t sure if you had…” He focused his gaze somewhere below her face.

“Regrets?” she said, guessing at the word that seemed stuck in his throat.

His gaze lifted to hers, but they both smelled smoke from the burning bacon at the same time.

“Shit!” He turned toward the stovetop. Bare buttocks flashed at her beneath the tie of the apron.

“You’re naked!”

“Not exactly.” He moved the smoking pan to a cool burner, flipped on the exhaust fan full blast before turning off the stove. “I’m frying bacon and you’ve got my robe. I had to wear something.”

They laughed and sat on stools to eat.

“You looked worried when you let the dog in. I was afraid you had misgivings about last night,” Hank said, nursing a mug of coffee.

“No. Last night was wonderful. I have no regrets.” She squeezed his hand for emphasis. How could she regret loving this talented, wonderful man? “I just thought I saw something outside a few minutes ago.”

“Probably a deer,” he said, obviously relieved at her answer. He squeezed her hand back, then removed their plates to the sink. “There’s a lot of them out here. You should see them at dusk. Then they really come out.”

It wasn’t a deer, Angie knew that much, but she wasn’t exactly sure what she saw. “It’s probably nothing. Just my imagination.” She took one last sip from her cup, then slipped off the stool. “I better get dressed or I’ll be late for church.”

“Church? You go to church?”

You would have thought by his dropped jaw that she had said she was going to Venus. She smiled, “Of course, silly, it’s Sunday. I’d invite you to go with me, but people can’t see –-”

“Us together,” he finished her sentence with a nod. “I guess I don’t know many single people our age who go to church voluntarily.”

“That’s because you don’t know many people on the receiving end of a miracle.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, remembering that he had treated her to some pretty miraculous experiences himself last night. “Besides it’s time I get back. My mother will be coming home soon and I need to clean.”

After she’d changed and had rounded up Oreo, Hank walked her to the door. “Call me later?”

“Definitely” he said.

This time she initiated the kiss. Another first.

She flipped the car radio to her favorite station and sang along with all the love songs. A beautiful morning was following a magical night. The slight aching between her legs proved that it all hadn’t been a dream. She wouldn’t suddenly wake up wanting what she knew she’d never experience. At the first stoplight, she lowered the passenger window so Oreo could stick her head out and smell the wind. The chill breeze felt pleasantly refreshing and verified that she was awake, alive and happier than she could ever remember being. The morning was absolutely perfect until she saw the swirling red and blue police lights in her driveway.

Chapter Twenty-One

“WHAT’S GOING ON?”

Angie pulled in front of the house. She left Oreo barking in the car, the window cracked enough to release the captured sound.

“Ms. Blake?” A uniformed officer greeted her.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“We received a report that someone smashed your front window last night.” Angie looked at the large window facing the quiet residential street. A dark jagged hole, like some gaping wound, stared back.

“We found a brick inside, but your brother says nothing else appears to be missing.”

“My brother?” She frowned at the officer.

“Apparently your neighbor called him this morning when we couldn’t locate you. He’s in the house now, but since you’re back we’d like—”

Angie was already halfway up the drive under a full head of steam.

“Stephen?” she called from the front door. Her insides shook like a dying leaf clinging to a wind-tossed branch. “Stephen, where are you?”

“Here. Angie, I’m here.” Footsteps pounded the upstairs hallway then down the stairs. “Thank God. I was so worried.” He reached the ground floor and instantly pulled her into a bear hug. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she reassured him. “What happened?”

“The breaking glass woke Walter. He came over to see if you were all right, but you weren’t home.” Stephen pulled back to look at her face. “Where were you last night?”

“Do the police think it was a burglary?” she asked, already suspecting the answer was no.

“Nothing seems to be missing, at least not that I can tell. But you didn’t answer—”

“Are you the young lady who lives here?” Another uniformed officer appeared from the kitchen.

“Yes, that’s me.” She separated from Stephen.

“We’ve checked the house and property outside. If anyone was here, they’ve gone now. Is there someone who might have some sort of grudge against you that might pull this kind of prank?”

“No. No one that I know of,” she answered truthfully.

“Fired anyone at work? A jealous boyfriend or girlfriend? Anyone like that?”

“No,” she assured them. “No one.”

“I understand you filed a complaint a week or so ago about a prowler?”

“What?” Stephen exploded. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Calm down, Stephen. I didn’t think it was serious. If there was a prowler, he didn’t do anything. It was probably some kid celebrating Halloween a little early.” She knew it sounded lame but she didn’t want Stephen involving himself in her life anymore than he normally did.

“Well, we’d like you to take a look around to verify that nothing’s missing all the same,” the officer said. “Do you live here alone?”

“At the moment, it’s just my dog and me,” Angie said, scanning the sitting room. Other than shards of glass scattered among the furniture and rug, everything appeared in order. “Normally my mother is here but she’s in Florida at the moment.”

“Dog?”

“She’s in my car.” Angie moved to the dining room visually checking that everything was in place.

“She wasn’t here last night?”

“No, Officer. She was with me. Neither one of us was here last night.” She glared at Stephen. “Which was probably a good thing given the circumstances.” She moved on to the kitchen.

“Well, miss. You might want to board up that window until it can be fixed. Your home insurance should cover the cost of replacing it…”

“I brought some wood to do just that,” Stephen said.

“I don’t think there’s anything else we can do here.” The officer reached in his pocket. “Here’s my card. If you think of anyone who might be responsible for this, or if you discover something is missing, call this number. Otherwise, we’ll just keep an eye on the house during our patrols.”

I’ve heard that one before
, she thought, but she nodded. The officer joined his partner outside. Angie watched the patrol car back out of the driveway before it disappeared down the street. She retrieved Oreo from her tiny Civic.

“Angie, is everything okay?” Walter crossed his front lawn to intercept her. “I hope you don’t mind that I called Stephen. I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t home and I thought someone should…”

“It’s all right, Walter.” She patted his arm in reassurance. “You did the right thing.” The sound of a hammer pounding wood made them both glance back toward the house. Stephen was already boarding up the window. “But how did you know that I wasn’t home?”

“When I heard the glass shatter, I looked out my window. I didn’t see anyone on the street, I came over to make sure you were all right. There wasn’t a single light on in the house and Oreo didn’t even bark once. So I knew you weren’t home.”

Or we were both dead on the carpet
. She grimaced. No sense spooking Walter. “You did the right thing.”

“Why would someone throw a brick through your window?” he asked.

“Why would someone try to poison my dog?” She asked with a sigh. “I haven’t a clue and it’s beginning to spook me.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m right next door.”

“Thanks, Walter, you’ve already been a big help.” She turned and led Oreo up to the house, bracing herself for a confrontation with Stephen. He was finishing when she entered. She grabbed the broom and dustpan from the kitchen before entering the darkened sitting room.

“Pack your clothes,” Stephen said. “I’m taking you home with me.”

“No.” She began sweeping the broken glass shards into a tidy pile. “I’m staying here.”

“Are you crazy? Someone just tried to break in. You could have been killed!”

She stopped sweeping only long enough to make her point. “They threw a brick through the window, Stephen. That’s hardly attempted murder.”

“How close to attempted murder do they have to get?” He glared a moment then collected his tools. “Pack your bags.”

“No.” She planted the broom and stood her ground. “We don’t even know if that brick was targeted for this house. Maybe they thought someone else lived here.” She stooped to brush the pile of glass into the plastic dustpan. “I’m not running because of some stupid prank.”

“And if it’s not a prank?” He took the dustpan from her hand. “Give me that. You could cut yourself with all that broken glass.”

She handed him the broom and stepped aside. She wasn’t giving in, but she knew from experience that it was best to surrender the dust pan than argue.