Angel Warrior (2 page)

“God, I hope so.” I bite my lip, slowly coming out of my shock. “We should call 9-1-1.”

“I’ve already done that,” an assertive man in a business suit steps forward.

For the first time, I notice there’s quite a crowd building around us.

Keith blinks several times and stands. I can see the resolve coming over his face. With me he’s often a jokester to a fault, but his day job as a lab tech means he has a more serious side.

“All right. Step aside, people. Step aside.” Keith puts his arms out, blocking them from coming closer.

“I didn’t even see him,” an overweight man in a faded gray uniform says, his expression distraught. “He stepped right in front of me.”

Keith puts an arm around him and steers him back into the rest of the crowd.

With my friend focusing on the bus driver and the crowd, I look back at the injured man before me. My hand reaches out to brush a curl of dark brown hair out of his eyes before I even know what I’m doing.

The man opens his eyes. They are clear, green, and deep. I can almost feel them pulling me in. I realize my hands are on his chest. I shake my head and physically pull myself back. But when I do, it feels like something’s pulling me back toward him. I wish I could touch him again. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” He speaks with a deep, husky voice. He tries to push me away and sit up.

“Whoa.” I push back, trying to keep him flat on his back, gesturing to his bleeding torso. “You just got hit by a bus. An ambulance is on the way.”

“I’m fine,” he insists. He scans the tops of the buildings along both sides of the street.

I follow his gaze, not sure what he’s looking for. When his green eyes come back to me, I realize I’m having trouble keeping my focus on his injuries. “You can’t be. No one could be. You’re in shock,” I insist, but he brushes my hands away.

“I don’t need a doctor.” He rises gracefully from the pavement, showing no sign he was mowed down by a bus just moments before except for his bloody shirt.

Keith joins me at his side, dwarfed by the massive stranger. ”Are you sure? You should come home with us, at the very least. Just to be on the safe side.”

Just then two police officers arrive, hurrying down the sidewalk toward us. “Ambulance is on the way,” one of the men says to me. The other one puts out cones to block traffic.

“I’m fine,” the stranger says again.

“Just have a seat, sir.” The policeman points to the bus stop bench right behind us. “Help is just a few minutes away.”

I hold my breath, hoping the stubborn man will do as he’s told. It wasn’t as if he stubbed his toe. This was serious.

Behind us, someone cries out. I turn to see the bus driver clutching his chest. His eyes go blank, and he collapses to the ground. The police officer in front of us races over.

I look back at the bleeding stranger. To my annoyance, he turns and strides off down the sidewalk. I look between him and the man who’s currently receiving CPR from the police officer. They really couldn’t just let this guy run off to die farther down the street, could they?

“We need to help him.”

Keith nods beside me. “I’m on it.”

I start after the injured man. “Excuse me!”

Keith runs past me, his loud voice silencing my own. “Sir! Sir! At least come home with us, just to be on the safe side.”

The man pauses midstride and turns around.

I catch up to them, and his green-eyed gaze turns to me. I catch my breath. In that instant, I know he’s going to say yes. The force between us is too strong.

Keith looks from me to him. “I’m sure it’d make her feel a lot better to know you’re okay. You did give us quite a scare, after all.”

He is silent for a long moment. “All right.”

I can’t believe I was run over by a bus. If any of the other guys saw me, I’ll never hear the end of it. But it’s worked out to my advantage.

I’m going home with her.

Sometimes fate is like that.

Gillian is walking in front of me, her long, blond ponytail swinging around every time she looks back to see that I’m still here.
I’m still here, baby.
I can guarantee I’m following those hips all the way home.

Why do I want her so much?

I haven’t really thought about women too much since being turned thirty three years ago. I’ve been too busy fighting. But I’m thinking about one woman right now. There’s something special about Gillian. A kind of sparkle. And her ass looks great in jeans.

They are leading me back to their apartment, whispering to each other, completely unaware of my superior hearing.

“Why did you suggest he come home with us? Are you crazy?”

“Because I saw him before he got hit by the bus. He was looking right at you with a lovestruck expression. It was so obvious.”

She glances furtively over her shoulder again. “I think there must have been something more in your coffee than what I got. There’s no way that guy was looking at me.”

“Girl, you don’t know your own beauty. I’m telling you, you are a stunner.”

I agree. You are definitely a stunner.

“I’m more worried about his injuries than any look he gave me right about now.”

Her friend glances back at me. “So, we’ll make sure he’s okay first. But then, just imagine the romantic story you’ll have to tell your tall, gorgeous kids!”

She rubs her face. “You’re crazy. You really are, you know that?”

He bumps her shoulder. “Sometimes you find love, girl. But sometimes love finds you. Trust me on that one.”

We arrive at their apartment and I follow them up the steps. Gillian fumbles through her bag for her keys, so Keith does the honors.

Inside, she immediately turns to me, her gaze focused on my torso. “Let’s take off that shirt and see how bad things are.”

I swear my heart stops. She wants me to undress for her?
No problem.

But for some reason, my fingers fumble with the buttons on my shirt. After a second, she pushes my hands away and undoes each one with a distinctly professional air.

By the time she lets it drop to the floor, I’m excited in a way I haven’t been for over thirty years. I resist checking myself out, just to be sure.
Hello down there. It’s been a while.

Her eyes caress every inch of me, taking in my tattoos, my pecs, my abs. She swallows. “Just a second.” She turns and heads down the hall.

Keith is busy staring at my chest, his mouth hanging open. A couple of slow minutes pass, without him saying a word.

“Here,” she says. A second later, a warm cloth touches my chest, and I hiss.

Her eyes widened. “Does it hurt?”

“Just surprised,” I mumble, my voice a bit husky.

I watch her trembling hand as she wipes the blood from my chest and my side. She goes to the kitchen sink and rinses the cloth several times before coming back. The cloth is always warm. I’m thankful for that.

Her hand drops to her side. “There’s just a little cut.”

I look down, wishing, too late, that I’d considered what she might find when she finally undressed me. “Uh. Most of it was paint.”

“Paint?” she repeats.

I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Yeah, I was helping a friend paint her apartment.”

“Well, geez,” Keith cuts in, his mouth finally working again. “Why didn’t you mention that in the first place? See, Gillian, he’s going to be fine.”

She brings the cloth back to the sink, wringing it out one last time. “I guess that’s good,” she says, over the sound of the running water.

“I’m glad that’s over with.” Keith says, even though his tone suggests the exact opposite.

The room goes uncomfortably quiet.

“Please, have a seat on the sofa.” Gillian gestures to the couch with one hand, while grabbing Keith’s arm with the other. “I’ll be right back.”

She drags him down the hall.

I grin. Not far enough, I can still hear them.

“What am I supposed to do with him now?” she hisses at her roommate.

“Anything you want, girlfriend. Although I have a lot of suggestions, if you need them, on what to do with a sexy, shirtless man,” he replies, a smile in his voice. “I’m staying the night with Peter, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.”

Good man. I’m going to have to buy him a beer sometime.

“What?! You’re leaving me alone with him?”

“Of course! I only came back here to get my overnight bag. Toodles!” He grabs a bag from his room and walks past me, waggling his fingers back at her. He throws a wink over his shoulder at me before sashaying out the door.

Gillian takes a while to come down the hall, approaching more slowly. “This is the only one of his shirts I thought might fit you.”

I take it, grateful. I pull it on, realizing immediately that it’s far too tight. But beggars can’t be choosers, right? And it was definitely better than putting my bloody shirt back on.

“Um…it’s pretty late. Do you want something for dinner?”

Her shyness is endearing.
Are you on the menu? Because I believe I’m starting to work up quite an appetite.

“I don’t have much in the fridge.” She unconsciously touches her hair. “But I can order takeout. Chinese. Pizza. Whatever.”

“Takeout sounds good. I’m not picky about food—it’s your choice.”

She decides quickly and, after I give her the go-ahead to order whatever she wants, calls it in. The takeout comes ridiculously fast. Her face turns a light shade of pink as she mumbles about being a regular at the place across the street.

I watch her closely as we eat. She’s very nervous at first, but opens up as we talk about superhero and sci-fi movies. I can tell she loves science fiction almost as much as she loves science.

After finishing dinner, we go back into the living room.

“Do you want to stay the night?” she asks, then rushes out. “On the couch, I mean. That way I can keep an eye on you in case you have a concussion or something.”

I try not to sound disappointed as I say, “Sure.” Even though sleeping in her bed sounds a heck of a lot better.

“The couch is a pullout. And I have extra sheets and blankets.” She backs out of the room and scrambles down the hall.

What is it about this guy?
It isn’t just that he’s gorgeous. When we spoke at dinner, he listened. It’s been a long time since anyone but Keith listened to me like that. And he draws me in a way I can’t explain. Like gravity.

I ruffle through the closet, looking for a set without flowers. Something manly. Between myself and Keith, sometimes I don’t know who’s more girly. I finally find a matching set in royal blue. When I turn around, he’s right behind me.

I shriek. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he says, but he’s grinning.

He seems overly large in the small hallway, and my racing heart can’t seem to slow down. I sway toward him, brushing him with the sheets. He leans toward me as well, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. After an awkward silence, I thrust the sheets at him, not sure what else to do.

“Thank you,” he replies, chuckling as he walks back down the hall in front of me.

I try not to ogle him too much as he walks. But I can’t help myself. I’ve never seen a man as perfectly formed as him. The guy must hang out at the gym day and night to keep his entire body so tight.

An image of his naked chest flashes in my mind, and my whole body feels flushed. I remember running the cloth over him in the kitchen, caring for him. How had wiping blood off an injured man become so hot so fast?

He’s already pulled out the bed when we reach the living room. I don’t know how he did it that fast.

I stand there awkwardly until he tosses me one side of the fitted sheet. I shouldn’t notice his easy strength, how he simply lifts the corner of the mattress to tuck the corner under. Or the way his long fingers smooth over the sheet. Making this bed together feels strangely intimate.

“So, uh, what do you do?”

He pauses. “You mean, for a living?”

“Yes.”

“I’m in…law enforcement.” For some reason, that pause worries me.

“What kind of law enforcement?”

He gives me a level stare. “The kind that enforces laws.”

I’m not even going to respond to that.

When it becomes obvious I’m not going to let it go, he sighs. “Look, it’s classified. I can’t really tell you about it. That’s also why I didn’t want to go to the hospital.”

I search his face, but he seems to be telling the truth. His eyes are clear and look at me unwaveringly.

“All right, Mr. Classified. Water is in the kitchen, bathroom is the first door on the left. I’ll pull out a couple of towels and leave them in there for you.”

He places the other sheets on the bed, nodding. “All right, thank you very much for letting me stay here tonight.” He grabs the skintight shirt behind his neck and pulls it off over his head with one hand.