Angel's Hero

Chapter 6

Stop. Right now.
Deep breath in, Angel. Get control of yourself.
Taking her completely by surprise, Conner stepped to her, and pulled her to him for a hug.
One hand at the back of her head, the other around her shoulders, he pulled her to his chest and just closed himself around her, ensconcing her in a protective bubble made by his body.
Her hands, which she'd automatically brought up to his chest as he'd pulled her close, meaning to hold him off, clenched in the material of his shirt instead. Pulling him closer. He held her tighter.
She sank into it.
She sank into him.
His scent drifted up and the freshness of his aftershave, a bit of sweat, a lingering aroma of coffee, all played together in a very heady attack on her senses.
He dropped his cheek onto her head, his face looking out to the water.
She looked out herself, saw a sailboat, and watched it while tears continued to fall, until, finally spent, the thick ache in her throat eased.
"Um," his hand had been moving up and down her back slowly, comfortingly. It stopped now.
She released her clenched fists, and he loosened his hold on her slightly so she could lean back to look up at him, still within the circle of his arms.
They were flush against each other from the waist down. She still wore her sunglasses.
He brought the hand he had held at the back of her head around to lift her sunglasses up onto of her hair.
She'd been staring directly at his face, drinking in everything she could before he lifted the shades out of the way.
Angel dropped her eyes to avert her gaze, but that only brought her eyes to his mouth.
Mistake.
His hand cupped the side of her head, and his thumb swept across her cheek, wiping the tears away.
She licked her bottom lip, without thinking, aching for the pressure of his mouth on hers.
Her mouth dried. She found it difficult to swallow. Her stomach tightened.
Connor brought his other hand the other side of her face, and did the same thing, wiping her tears away. He tilted her head back, and she felt him press himself against her more fully.
Her breath hitched as she lowered her lashes, still avoiding his gaze. Her hands, splayed against his chest, longed to travel up and over his shoulders, and draw his head down to her.
For Angel, time seemed to stand still as she waited.
Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her lips parted.
As the seconds ticked by, her breathing increased. Why wasn't he kissing her?
He stepped away from her slowly, releasing her face.
The loss of his body heat against hers so suddenly left her chilled, and she felt herself stumble, slightly off kilter without his support.
The gentle breeze coming off the ocean lifted the loose hairs around her face.
Disorientated, and trying not to feel hurt, or to show her aching, she lowered her sunglasses back to the bridge of her nose, and swept a hand through her hair.
Conner cleared his throat. "Feel better?"
Heat flashed through her.
Ohmygod, he hadn't meant anything other than to comfort me, and here I am panting like a dog in heat! Cringe!
Trying not to let the embarrassment completely wash over her, Angel said stiffly. "Yeah, thanks." Reluctantly she added, "that was very kind of you, letting me cry on you like that. I wet your shirt."
He rubbed a large hand over his chest. "No worries."
His voice sounded tight, strained, almost like he was speaking through a constricted throat.
She'd embarrassed him.
Her own humiliation surged up her own throat at how she'd practically drooled on him, when he'd only offered her friendship, and comfort.
"I packed a picnic. Should we head to the preserve now and find somewhere to enjoy it?" She was starved, those pancakes a distant memory. Angel wasn't looking forward to splitting the meal. She wanted to go home and hide under the covers and never see this man again.
It was utterly mortifying that she'd obviously wanted him to kiss her, and he'd tried only to comfort her when she'd been sad.
God, she'd basically salivated over him!
Fighting the urge to bury her face in her hands and scream, Angel turned to the trail leading back to the Jeep, not waiting to see if Connor was following her.

*

Conner gazed out to the sea.
He watched the yacht bob on the horizon, its sail a bright, clean white.
He needed a second.
What the hell had just happened?
Or, to be more precise, almost happened?
He'd taken Angel into his arms as a gesture of comfort, but it had turned into something else.
His heart had gone out to her as she'd told him about her mother.
He knew what fire could do, had seen it first hand, and had also see the after effects.
The destroyed homes, the devastated lives. Death.
So, when he'd seen her tears, he'd wanted to give her nothing more than what he would have given his own mother or his sister.
Women needed to be held sometimes.
He didn't pretend to understand the psychology of it, but his father, a man just as big as he himself was, had told him once that it was about safety.
And as the gentleman he'd been raised to be, combined with his instincts telling him someone needed saving, he'd done what he'd normally do.
Try to save them.
And here was a woman who just needed safety to cry, so he'd used his body to give her the protection.
As he'd held her, though, his own feelings had gotten involved.
It annoyed him that he hadn't been able to keep his libido under control. As he'd rubbed his hand up and down her back, he'd gotten a slight impression of what she had hidden beneath the smock.
At first, as he'd run his hand across the middle, he felt for the band across her back where the straps of her bra should be. As a teenage boy, it was a habit he'd picked up, and in his adulthood, while not seeking it out, he couldn't help but notice them. They were fascinating devices created to dress up God's best creation.
Angel didn't have that telling strap.
Hmm, he'd thought. Interesting.
When her fists had clenched in his shirt, he'd instinctively pulled her in tighter, his arm wrapping around her side, and his hand had sunk into the dip of her waist.
Without meaning to, he'd discovered she didn't wear a bra, and had a rather wonderful shape; soft here, firm there... round in the perfect way for him to grab a handful. His skin, and his little friend downstairs, had tightened in response.
He tightened again now, still feeling her against him.
Then that moment that had followed, when he'd almost kissed her.
Seeing the tears on her face, and the way she'd leaned into his palm, smiling slightly, as if completely content, he'd felt the urge to see her eyes, so he'd moved her sunglasses out the way.
When she'd kept her gaze averted, he'd realized he hadn't looked into her eyes since meeting her. He didn't know what their color was. It had frustrated the cop in him that thrived on the details.
He'd brought his other hand to her face, thinking to lift her face to his, so he could finally see her eyes, and she'd gone and licked her lip.
Eyes forgotten, he'd stared at her mouth. At the lush softness it promised.
His heart had all but leapt out as the sun had glistened over the roundness dampened by the quick sweep of her tongue.
He'd ached to draw it into his mouth. Slowly. And suck on it before devouring the rest of her mouth.
A strangled sound escaped him now, the image still fresh in his mind.
But, his mother had raised a gentleman, and he knew the rule about taking advantage of a woman in distress.
It had physically hurt him to step away from her. Even now, as he turned to follow her, he ached.
He'd never reacted to someone like this before. He hadn't even known her for a full day yet.
This was crazy!
Digging deep into his cop persona, he latched onto the friendly, trustworthy version he knew set people at ease. He locked it firmly in place. He needed time to think things over before he got involved with anyone.
He'd only just arrived in town, and as Sheriff, he couldn't dally with the locals, even if he were the dallying kind, which he wasn't.
Throughout the rest of the day, their conversation was stilted. They enjoyed a delicious picnic in the shade of a large tree in the preserve, but words were few and far between.
He figured she was embarrassed about crying on him, a stranger.
She had to be completely oblivious to his inner turmoil at his sudden, fierce attraction to her.
Conner was happy to keep it that way, at least for now. He wasn't one for one-night stands, and preferred to know a woman to some degree, before bedding her.
They climbed back into the Jeep after eating quietly for twenty minutes, him blind to the beauty of the preserve, even as he actively avoided looking at Angel.
He was sorely focused on her every movement.
The way she piled food onto as much of the cracker as possible before shoving the whole thing in her mouth, made him want to stare open-mouthed. She enjoyed food, her shoulders wiggling as she ate. He wondered if she aware of that fact. Or that the way she licked food from the corner of her mouth turned his insides, and caused the food to stick in his throat.
She tried to start a conversation here and there, although all he managed was one-word answers.
He let the conversation die out, and when Angel turned towards the harbor at around two o'clock, he felt relieved that he would be able to put some distance between them, and gather his thoughts on the matter.
She dropped him next to his off-duty vehicle, a boring silver sedan.
He wanted to say something, to end their time together on a happy note, but couldn't think of anything other than tapping his forehead with his index finger, and nodding. "Thanks for today, I had fun."
"Yeah," She smiled tightly. "Fun. See ya."
She drove off quickly, and he watched as she turned her car toward the coffee shop.
He'd do better next time.
A proper date in a public space, where he could get to know her, without touching her and tempting himself.
Feeling better, he smiled to himself as he climbed into his own vehicle and drove out of town, heading home.