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Authors: Prescott Lane

Quiet Angel (24 page)

BOOK: Quiet Angel
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“What about an audio book?” Layla asked.

“We do that sometimes,” Emerson said, “but we can’t find all the books in audio.”

“I’ll find them,” Layla said. “Give me the list. I’ll find them.” She took a seat on the floor by Jacob and patted his hand. “And if I can’t find them, we can make them ourselves.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Emerson wondered.

“Thank you, Miss Layla,” Jacob said.

“Sure,” Layla said. “But you have to do something for me now. You have to work really hard and do the reading at our wedding.”

“I’ll ruin everything,” Jacob said.

“We’ll pick an easy one,” Layla said. “First Corinthians.
Love is patient; love is kind.
You’ve heard that one, right?”

“Yeah,” Jacob said. “But what if I mess up?”

“What if I trip going down the aisle?”

“I’ll catch you,” Gage said. “And we’ll catch you, Jacob.” The boy sat quietly for a moment, terror on his face.

Layla wondered if she’d pushed too far. “You know, there are some really famous smart people with dyslexia. Einstein, Edison, da Vinci, Picasso, Spielberg. And those are just the ones I can remember.”

“Why didn’t I look that up?” Emerson asked. “God, I’m not winning mother of the year.”

Jacob hopped up. “I’m going to kick Ava off the computer and look up more famous guys with dyslexia.” He started to run out of the room then turned back. “Miss Layla, I’ll do the reading at your wedding.”

“Thank you,” Gage and Layla said.

“That’s sweet of you, Layla,” Emerson said.

“I’m happy to,” Layla said.

“The kids are totally exhausting,” Gage said. “Emerson, I don’t know how you aren’t totally insane by now.”

“Jack Daniels,” his sister said. “Jack is my best friend.” She looked down at her binder and began to scribble some notes. “OK, back to work. Dash is your only groomsman?”

“Yep,” he said.

“You really need more friends.”

“He has multiple personalities, so it works.”

“Ava is a bridesmaid,” Emerson said. “Anyone else?”

“You,” Layla said.

“That’s nice. Thank you. Poppy, too?”

“No, Poppy’s not a bridesmaid.”

“I thought she was your best friend?” Emerson asked.

“Since my father’s passed, Poppy is walking me down the aisle.”

Helen wrinkled her brow and scooted forward in her chair. “Let me get this straight. My grandson is going to carry the rings on a toy man? My other grandson with dyslexia is doing the reading? And some woman is walking Layla down the aisle?”

Layla smiled proudly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“The rings may end up in the gutter. Jacob may vomit all over us. And you will look like a lesbian coming down the aisle,” Helen said, laughing. “It all sounds like the perfect Savannah wedding.”

Gage looked sweetly into Layla’s blue eyes. “Savannah it is then.”

*

Layla left Gage
to manage his mother and sister on color schemes, flowers, and music. She didn’t care about any of that—neither did he—but Gage at least had to pretend he did with his family so involved. She slipped out to the backyard and took off her shoes. The blades of grass felt good on her feet. She walked out to the gazebo, taking in the greenery, the rosebushes, all around the white lattice. She sat down on a wicker sofa and leaned her head back on some pillows. She closed her eyes, the gazebo reminding her of the time it rained after she and Gage played golf on the island, when they took cover under a tree, its branches bending down to create a little barrier between them and the rest of the world.

“Dear?”

Layla felt a hand on her shoulder and popped up her head. “I’m so sorry. I’m just taking a minute to recharge.”

“I like to do that myself,” Helen said and sat down beside her. “You must be exhausted with the party and engagement.”

“A little,” she said, embarrassed, “but Gage isn’t outside almost falling asleep.”

“Gage goes full throttle—especially when he wants something.”

“I’m learning that.”

Helen smiled. “You know what I remember most about you? How happy Gage was that summer. His father, bless his soul, was a wonderful, loving man. But he put a lot of pressure on Gage—his legacy and all.”

“Gage wanted to make him proud.”

“He’s a good son, but I used to worry if Gage was making
himself
happy. I remember how the two of you would snuggle up on that old lounge chair every night and watch the sunset over the ocean. I thought it was such an odd thing for two kids to do together every night. My husband used to tease me and say it’s because we didn’t know what was happening underneath that blanket.” Helen chuckled. “But I knew better.”

“You did?” Layla asked, a lump in her throat.

“I saw Gage always had his hands on top of the blanket.” She winked at Layla. “I knew I liked you. Any girl who’d make a boy keep his hands above the blanket was a good girl in my book.”

“Gage was always respectful. He still is.”

“He better be! I remember sitting out one morning drinking coffee, and his father came walking up, having just come from one of those spiritual services they hold on the beach each morning—yoga meditation or something. He went every morning except Sundays when we went to church as a family. Anyway, this one morning he came up the patio. He told me he saw you at the meditation.”

“I saw him there almost every morning,” Layla said.

“He couldn’t believe a 16-year-old girl was watching the sunset at night with his son, then getting up at the crack of dawn to meditate. We couldn’t get Gage up before 10—unless, of course, he was seeing you.” Layla smiled. “For some reason, that’s what I remember about you most. The way my husband looked on the patio that morning, telling me our son was in love with a girl who went to sunrise yoga meditation on the beach. Of course, I remember your cute sundresses, too.”

“I still wear them.”

Helen ran her hand along a rose petal. “As a parent, you just know when your son has found the love of his life. Our son just happened to find you when he was 18.”

“I was only 16.”

“Did Gage ever tell you his father and I got married when we were 18, right before he went into the military?”

“No.”

“We were such babies. We had no idea what we were doing. But we were so happy. We thought Gage was going to use that to plead his case not to leave you.”

“And not go to the Naval Academy?”

“My husband was preparing for Gage not to go.”

“Gage and I never talked about that back then.”

“We knew it was coming.”

“I wouldn’t have let him give up his dreams for me.”

“His father had a spot reserved for him at the University of Georgia just in case. That was going to be our compromise. Go to school
somewhere
. And it was only a few hours from your grandmother’s place, so he could see you every weekend if you were living there.”

“But then I left.”

“No need to relive it, dear. Gage said you had a good reason for doing what you did, but please be sure this time. It took a toll on him. Not knowing what happened was the worst part. I’m not sure he’d survive losing you a second time.”

“Me neither,” Layla said. “I almost died the first time.” Layla figured Helen probably thought she was just being dramatic. “Your roses are lovely.”

“My late husband planted them for me. He knew he was sick then but didn’t tell me. He didn’t want to burden us. It wasn’t until he had to tell us that he finally did. He told me before he died that he wanted to make sure I was surrounded by his love when he was gone. That’s why he planted the roses.” Helen kissed her fingertips and held her hand to the sky.

“Could Gage and I get married here in the backyard?” Layla asked. “I’m sure Gage would want to be by his father’s love when he marries me.”

Helen pulled Layla into a hug. “That is so sweet and thoughtful. Of course, you can.”

Layla wrapped her arms around Helen, feeling tears run down the woman’s face. Layla closed her eyes—trying to remember if her own mother ever held her like this. It felt new, a little uncomfortable, but she could certainly get used to it.

*

Layla drove Gage
to the airport hanger in the early morning. She hated that he had to leave every day, that they were living in different cities. She pulled up to his tiny death trap. “Is this how it’s going to be when we get married?”

“If I’m commuting from Savannah,” he said, “I guess there’s no way around it.”

They took a few steps to the plane, and he tilted up her chin, lowering his lips to hers. Her tongue gently met his, and her body softened against him. He pinned her against the plane and pressed his body into her. He opened the door and lifted her into the back. There was just enough room to crawl on top of her.

Layla spread her legs just slightly and released a little moan. He slid his hand under her sundress, feeling her smooth warm skin. He saw her nipples peaking against the thin fabric. She pulled off his shirt, and he ripped her dress over her head, her breasts smashing against his chest. His tongue lingered on her neck.

“I love your body on top of mine,” she whispered.

“Good, because I plan on burying myself deep inside you.” He kissed down her neck and twirled his tongue around her nipple. Then he glided a hand to her thigh and lifted her leg to his hip, growing harder as she moved against him. He slid a finger through the side of her lace panties and grazed her slick wetness. “I can feel how much you want me.” Panting, Layla arched her back.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“What’s that?” Layla threw him off her, thinking the plane was exploding. She knew this day would eventually come. She just didn’t expect it to happen in a plane resting in a hanger. And she didn’t expect to be topless, either. She scrambled to put her dress back on before she died.

Gage put on his shirt and looked out the window, his lips tightened in a line. “Walter is checking the plane.”

“Did he see us?”

“I don’t think so.”

Layla leaned her head on the seat. “You commuting is not working.”

“It’ll work. I’ll move to Savannah. I can commute.”

“Let’s talk about it. Not you make an executive decision.”

“Just tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”

Layla smiled and shook her head. “That easy, huh?”

His phone rang. “I’m turning it off.” He shoved it in his pocket. “Where do you want to live?”

“My store is here in Savannah.”

“My family is here, too.”

“But your career is in Atlanta.”

Gage nodded then added quietly, “The Governor’s Mansion is there, too.”

Her stomach dropped, but she kept her face neutral. She got the feeling he was testing the waters, vetting her in some way. “So you’ve decided to run?”

“I haven’t decided anything,”

“When do you have to decide?”

“Few months or so.” Walter banged on the window and gave a thumbs up, which Gage ignored. “We’ll figure this all out.”

“Can you tell me why you want to be governor?”

“It’s a chance to help people, mostly. I see so many problems, people in trouble and I. . . .”

“You said something similar that first day we met.”
When you see someone in trouble, you should try to help
.

Gage pulled her closer. “I think I could do a lot of good.”

“I think so, too. But you do a lot of good now.”

“I try. I’m not sure about the whole thing. I know it’s what my dad wanted for me. I think they were grooming me from preschool. But I’m not sure I want to open myself up, my family up, to that kind of life.”


Or me
?”

He gave her a little squeeze and held up her ring finger. “You’re my family now.” Walter banged on the window again, and Gage gave him a little wave. “We’ll figure it all out.”

“Seems there’s a lot to figure out. And one of us is always coming or going. It’s like we don’t even have time to talk.”

We never have time for sex, either!
If it wasn’t her period, it was a tampon or his godfather, or he was buried under work. But he knew she was right. Things had been crazy lately. She moved to get out of the plane, and he captured her hand. “We’ll make time. What do you want to talk about?”

BOOK: Quiet Angel
3.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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