Fallen Angels: Beguiled / Wanton / Uncovered

She gave a small nod. “Grayson was early, by a little more than six weeks. The accident started my labor.”

His insides twisted and he could barely force the words out. “Who took care of you?” He drew a breath and felt his nostrils flare. “Who helped you when you were in the hospital? When you first came home?”

Her gaze shifted away and she smoothed her hand over the baby’s head, ruffling his few glossy curls. The sound of the baby’s sucking was loud and voracious. “There was no one, Derek, you know that. No family, no close friends. Grayson and I helped each other.”

Without meaning to, without even wanting to, he looked at the baby. Grayson’s small mouth eagerly drew on her nipple while a tiny fist pressed to her pale breast. His eyes were closed, his small body cradled comfortably to Angel’s. Dane felt a lump in his throat the size of a grapefruit and had to turn away.

So he’d seen her breast? So what. He’d seen plenty in his day, just never any with a baby attached. He didn’t feel what he should have felt at the sight of her pale flesh, which was undiluted lust. Lust he understood, but this other thing, whatever the hell it was, he didn’t like.

He snatched up his still-damp shirt and shrugged it on, then grabbed his coat. There were a lot of things he had to do today. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He looked at her, his expression severe. “Make sure you’re here when I get back, Angel. Do you understand?”

She hugged the baby tighter, then waved a negligent hand without looking at him. “Go on. Just go.”

“I’ll be back.”

She nodded, more or less pretending he was already gone. Dane didn’t know what to say to her, what to think or feel. He was reaching for the doorknob when a soft knock sounded, and a second later it opened.

It was a toss-up who was more surprised, Dane, or the young man standing in front of him, his arms laden with a large pizza and a wide grin on his face.

That grin disappeared real quick, replaced by a ferocious look of menace. “Who the hell are you?”

Dane, at his most autocratic and not in the least threatened by the rangy youth, lifted his eyebrow and turned to Angel. “I think that may be my question.”

CHAPTER THREE

“NO,” ANGEL SAID, keeping her voice low and managing to cover herself as Grayson fell asleep and released her breast. He was such a good baby, so sweet. She loved him so much she’d gladly do anything necessary to protect him. “It’s not your question because it’s none of your business.”

She quickly buttoned up her shirt. Mick automatically put the pizza on the coffee table and took the baby from her while Derek stood there, that damn imperious eyebrow raised high, and watched. Slowly, because her leg really was aching, she lifted herself into something closer to a sitting position, resting against the arm of the couch with her leg still outstretched.

“Well.” Derek smiled, but it wasn’t a particularly nice smile, more a baring of teeth which Mick responded to with a scowl. “I’m not leaving until I know who he is.” He sat down and stretched out his own long, strong legs, at his leisure, and waited.

Angel sighed. God, she really didn’t need this. First the trip downtown, which had tired her leg terribly. Then the kiss and his naked chest…Her mind was turning to mush.

Mick bristled. “Just who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and demanding answers?”

“The baby’s father.”

“Oh.” Mick straightened, blinked, then glanced at Angel. Derek had said that with so much relish, so much ridiculous pride, she was temporarily stunned herself. His complete acceptance was such a swift turnaround, she was having trouble accepting it.

It took her a moment before she nodded, giving Mick permission. She knew he wouldn’t say another word without it and yet Derek wasn’t likely to leave unless he got his answer. She knew how incredibly stubborn he could be. And even though he wasn’t acting like himself, he could pull out his ruthlessness at any moment. She didn’t want Mick caught in the cross fire.

“I’m Mick Dawson, a neighbor.” Mick jutted his chin. “And a friend.”

“A very good friend,” Angel added, thinking of how much help Mick had been to her since she’d first moved here. She surveyed Derek, lounging at his leisure, his shirt tight across his broad shoulders and his hands laced over his flat stomach. She wanted to kick him for looking so damn good. “You asked who helped me. Well, once I moved here, Mick did. He picks up my groceries for me, gets my mail and paper.” She waved at her leg. “Until recently I’ve been pretty much out of commission. Mick lives upstairs, his mother owns the building, and he’s been an enormous help.”

Mick started to hand her the baby back, still keeping one eye on Derek, and that seemed to galvanize Derek into action. “I can take him,” he said, reaching for Grayson. “You should go ahead and eat.”

Mick again looked at her for guidance. Derek’s willingness to take part wasn’t something she’d counted on. It was an awkward situation, but it shouldn’t have been—not if he would just act like himself. But he didn’t seem to be in an accommodating mood today, which she supposed was like him after all.

Exasperation made her tone extra sharp. “Really, Derek, weren’t you just about to leave?”

He smiled. “I can stay a little longer. Besides, I like holding the baby.” He pressed his cheek to the top of Grayson’s head, and his expression caused a silly sick reaction in Angel’s stomach. “He smells good.”

Mick folded his arms and stared. “So you’re just now showing up? You waltz in today and pretend to be the happy father? To my mind, you’re about two months too late.”

Oh no. Angel tensed her muscles in dread of Derek’s response. “Mick…”

Derek nodded, cutting off Angel’s warning. “I agree. Actually, I’m close to a year late by my calculations. But I’m going to be near at hand from now on.” Then without missing a beat, he asked, “How old did you say you were?”

Mick grinned his sinister street-tough grin. “I didn’t.” Before Derek could react, he added, “But I’m sixteen. And before Miss Morris makes it sound like I’ve done her any big favors, she’s helped me out a lot, too. Without her, I doubt I’d make it out of high school.”

Angel couldn’t stand it when Mick did that, put himself down, especially since he was such a remarkable young man. Unfortunately, he still didn’t believe her about that. “That’s not true, Mick, and you know it. You’re very bright and you’d have figured out that math with or without my help.” She turned to Derek, for some reason anxious for him to understand. “Mick works two jobs, plus school, plus he pretty much runs this place. His mother is often…sick.”

Mick gave Derek a solemn, measuring look. “My mother is an alcoholic.”

Angel closed her eyes on a wave of pain. Mick had such a chip on his shoulder with everyone but her. He asked for disdain, as if he felt it was his due, then would fight tooth and nail to prove a point. She still wasn’t certain what that point might be, though.

With no visible sign of reaction, Derek looked at Mick. Angel knew Mick looked much older, much wiser than any sixteen-year-old boy should look. She also knew, deep down, he was still a kid, a little afraid at times, a lot needy given that his life had been nothing but empty turmoil. Her praise always embarrassed him, but he thrived on it. And she loved him like a little brother. If Derek said anything at all that would upset Mick, she’d manage to get her sorry butt off the couch and kick him out.

But he surprised her by cradling the baby in one arm and offering Mick his hand, which Mick warily accepted. “I appreciate what you’ve done for her. Did she move here when she was first hurt?”

“Yeah, not long after.” Mick narrowed his eyes again, very nice dark brown eyes that she knew all the high school girls swooned over. But Mick didn’t spare time for serious girlfriends. He was too busy surviving. “If I hadn’t been here, I don’t know if she’d have made it. She was pretty banged up, and Grayson was just a tiny squirt. Even getting herself something to eat was difficult, but she did it, because she had to stay healthy for Grayson. Truth is, I don’t know how the hell she managed.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Mick.” Angel didn’t want them talking about her and she didn’t want Derek to view her as a helpless, pitiful victim. He seemed to be hanging on Mick’s every word, analyzing them and drawing his own conclusions. She didn’t like the way his intense interest made her feel.

Later, after she figured out what he was up to, then she’d confide her biggest worry and hopefully he’d be able to take care of it. She cleared her throat. “Derek, you can put Grayson in his crib if you’d like. I don’t want to hold you up.”

He surprised her again by agreeing. After he settled Grayson, he came back in and walked over to her, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead that made her skin tingle and her breath catch. She frowned at him, but held her tongue. When they were alone, safe from Mick’s protective nature, she’d set him straight about his familiarity.

Derek looked at Mick. “Could you walk me out?”

The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “What for? I think you can find your way out the door. It’s straight ahead.”

Derek grinned at her. “Man talk, honey. Mick understands.”

“It’s all right,” Mick said to her, then followed Derek out despite her protests.

For all of two minutes, she fretted, imagining every kind of hostile confrontation. But when Mick came back in he was shaking his head and almost laughing.

“What? What did he want?”

“A list.”

She searched his face, stymied. “A list of what?”

“Everything you might need.” Her mouth fell open. “He also wanted to know if there was anyplace safe around here for him to park his car since he plans to be hanging around a lot. I told him he could use the garage.”

“But you don’t let anyone use the garage!”