Quiet Angel (28 page)

“I told Gage I don’t want them to win. He needs to make the decision that’s best for him.”

Poppy rushed in. “Layla, turn on the TV!”

“What are they saying about me now?” Layla asked. Poppy reached for the remote and turned it on. “Oh my God! What’s he doing?”

*

Gage walked outside
the Southern Wings corporate office, and three reporters swooped down on him. For once, he stopped and let them gather around, even giving them a moment to set up their equipment. He rubbed the wings under his shirt and took a deep breath, reminding himself to stick to the talking points – without any cursing or potshots. When the reporters and cameramen were all set, Gage picked one of the cameras and looked straight into it.

“For the past week,” he began, “the best person I know—the most important person in the world to me—has been the subject of relentless media coverage and rampant speculation. It’s as if there is nothing else going on in Georgia—and the rest of the country—but her. Of course, I’m talking about Layla Tanner. She didn’t ask me to speak here today. And she’s probably mortified that I am. I just couldn’t take it any longer.”

Layla’s hand flew to her chest, her heart melting. Gage was standing in front of the whole world defending her, loving her.

Helen placed a hand on Layla’s shoulder. “I love my baby boy.”

“The last thing Layla wants is attention,” Gage said. “She hasn’t asked for it. She doesn’t deserve all the negativity. She’s a sweetheart, a private person, a strong woman. She owns a children’s bookstore in Savannah. She does charity work. And yes, at one point in her life, she changed her last name. To those in the media wondering why, and any folks at home who are curious, I want you to listen up—because I have an answer for you:
It’s none of your damn business
.” Gage paused for a moment and let out a smile.

Watching on her office laptop, Emerson flashed a look to Governor Clements. “Thirty seconds in, and he’s already gone off script.” She wiped a little sweat from her forehead.

“Maybe,” Governor Clements replied, “but his approval rating with women just shot up 50 points. He’s a natural. I just wish he knew it.”

“As for the other reports,” Gage said, “they are packs of lies, distortions, and misinformation. I don’t know where this trash is coming from, but this is exactly what’s wrong with the media—and our politics today, for that matter. You can turn a person’s private life upside down in a news cycle. Then after a little while, you reporters move on to another story, someone else, and poke around there for a bit. And you move on again. One thing you never do is look back at the dust in your wake, the mess you made.”

“I love how he’s shaming these parasites,” Helen said.

“Layla, I’m in love with your man,” Poppy said.

“I love him more,” Layla said dreamily.
He’ll protect me no matter what, no matter the cost.

“Go ahead and talk about me and my company all you want,” Gage said. “But I’d ask that you stop with Layla. I don’t expect you’ll be hearing from her on any of the issues you think are newsworthy. As far as I’m concerned, you folks in the media are not worth her time. She doesn’t owe you anything. And anyone watching at home who has questions about Layla, she doesn’t owe you anything, either. She has better things to do. And you can save your breath because I’m not going to take any questions. I’ve said enough.” He turned and walked back inside Southern Wings.

Emerson let out a deep breath. “A bit of a harsh ending, but at least he kept his cool.”

“I think he did great,” Governor Clements said. “But let’s hope she’s not more of a target now.”

*

Layla’s phone rang
30 seconds later. “I saw it.”

“I probably should’ve warned. . . .”

Poppy ripped the phone from Layla’s hand. “Should’ve told them to fuck themselves! Without lube!”

Gage chuckled. “Poppy, put Layla back on the phone.”

“OK, but I wanted to tell you I loved it,” Poppy said.

“I loved it, too!” Helen screamed.

“
Mom
? Hello?”

Layla laughed. “I’ve got two crazy women with me.”

“Was that my mom?”

“Yeah, she came over to teach me how to curse.” Layla smiled as Helen and Poppy walked out. “They just left.”

“My mom came to teach you how to curse?”

“Yeah, and how to drink whiskey,” Layla said. “I love her.”

“I guess you handled the latest stories better than I did.”

“I’m trying.” She tucked her knees under her. “Gage, I can’t believe what you did. I didn’t think it was possible to love you more, but then you go and do something like that.”

“Angel,” he said softly, “I told you I’d protect you—or at least try to.”

“It meant so much to me.”

“Let’s just hope it worked. If I don’t run, this will all go away.”

“I’ve told you before—you need to make this decision because of what
you
want. I can handle this, especially after what I saw you do today. I just don’t understand why they’re so fascinated with me, why they won’t stop digging around.”

“We need to have some fun and not think about this for a little while.”

“Poppy’s been bothering me to hang out with her and Dash.”

“Good, invite them over. I’ll fly in this afternoon.”

“I love you, Gage.”

“I love you, too,” he said. “One more thing—I want to hear you curse. I usually only hear it when you’re mad at me.”

She smiled into the phone. “Fuck.”

*

Gage lowered the
top of the grill, and Layla flashed him a smile. She looked great holding a glass of sweet tea, in tight cut-off jeans and a white cami with just a hint of lace at the top. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail—very simple, very sexy. He set the glass on a little picnic table and pulled her hips to his, gripped her ass, forcing her to hike up her leg. He pulled a cube of ice from the glass and gently placed it on her neck, slowly gliding it across her skin and trailing kisses behind the ice.

“Gage,” Layla said, pushing away slightly. “There could be reporters lurking around.”

Gage stopped for a moment and cocked a half-smile. “Let ‘em watch.” He slid the ice in his mouth, seeing her eyes darken with desire, her breath heavy. He cupped a breast and pushed it out of her cami. He ran his cold tongue over her nipple, licking it, circling it. Layla tossed her head back and released a little moan as he lowered her onto the picnic table and pushed himself against her. He reached for the button and zipper on her shorts then slid them down to her ankles. He ran his fingertips under her white lace panties, planting a kiss between her legs. “God, I love how wet and ready you get for me.”

Layla reached for his shorts and stroked him gently. “I love how hard you get for me.” Pippa began to bark and claw at the back gate. “Poppy and Dash?” She pulled up her shorts.

“Shit! They’re early!” Gage adjusted Layla’s shirt and hustled over to the grill.

“I’ve got margaritas!” Poppy yelled, coming through the gate.

Layla checked herself one more time. “Great!” she called out, turning to greet their guests.

“I’ve got beer!” Dash said. “Gage, you cooking? She’s got you on husband duty already?”

“Shut up and toss me a beer.”

“Gage, you leave Dash alone,” Layla said. “I’m glad you changed his route. He’s been so helpful at the store—carries stuff, gets us lunch everyday, pushes back reporters.” Dash and Gage locked eyes for a moment.

“Don’t forget he keeps me flexible,” Poppy added.

“Thanks for that, Poppy,” Layla said. “Let’s go in and get some margarita glasses.”

*

Poppy began rifling
through cabinets in search of glasses. “It’s the next one over,” Layla said, watching Gage through the kitchen window.

“He’s totally husband-cute.”

“I know,” Layla said with a little giggle. “Less than two weeks.”

“The wedding’s coming so fast.”

“I can’t believe it,” Layla said and poured them each a drink.

“So much still to do to get ready. Emerson’s been great to work with,” Poppy said. “And Gage is such a good guy. It was so nice he changed Dash’s route so he could spend more time with me. Dash likes doing just the Savannah-Atlanta route.”

“Too bad he’s always here during the day. I wonder why Gage didn’t make it so he’s here overnight?” Layla nudged Poppy in the side. “I’m sure you’d rather have him here at night.”

“We’re managing,” Poppy said. “The timing’s been good, too, having a strong guy around to help pack up around the store.”

“Maybe Dash is husband material, too?”

Poppy shrugged. “He’s a stud, but it’s early yet.”

“Pop, not every guy is a jerk.”

“I’m just saying it’s too early to tell if he has ‘hot guy syndrome.’ You know, they’re all sweet and helpful in the beginning then suddenly they turn into total fucktards.” They walked back outside, drinks in hand. “You just wait a few weeks, and then Mr. Husband of the Year over there will royally screw up something.”

Gage looked up from the grill. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Poppy smiled. “You know I love you.”

“Hey, Poppy, where’s my love?” Dash asked.

“She’s trying to decide if you’re going to turn into a fucktard,” Layla said.

Gage pulled Layla to him and slid a hand in her back pocket. “I love it when you say ‘fuck,’” he whispered. She rested her red face on his chest, her dimples in full bloom.

“Well,” Dash said, “I’m trying to decide if I’m just a chocolate novelty.”

“Poppy’s taste in men is as colorful as her hair,” Layla said. “Black, white, Asian, Native American, Latino. And wasn’t there an Eskimo in there somewhere?”

“I never did an Eskimo!” Poppy said. “Besides, we all can’t marry the guy we gave our v-card to.”

“Poppy!” Layla cried.

“What? Did I go too far?” Poppy took a drink. “Fine, Layla, you can say something about me that’s a secret.”

Layla bit her lip and walked a little circle around Poppy. There were so many things to choose from. She stopped in front of her friend and flashed a satisfied look. “She’s a beauty queen.”

“You bitch!” Poppy barked.

“A beauty queen?” Dash wondered. “I mean, you’re hot enough, but. . . .”