Angel's Hero

Chapter 12

Angel opened her eyes.
She looked around her room.
What had happened?
She remembered her shower that morning, and the birds.
She looked down at herself, and saw the remains of flour on the dress around her waist, her breasts completely exposed.
Horrified, her memories flooded back.
"Please be a dream, please be a dream," she shuddered when she touched a gentle hand to the bandage behind her ear. "Oh, god."
When Conner's face came into her mind, she flushed warmly, remembering how she'd opened her eyes and seen him above her, flour dusted on his forehead, and relief on his face.
She remembered how her head had ached.
She remembered how confused she'd been, and how she had stared into his inky eyes feeling safe. The color was a deep, deep blue, like the bottom of the ocean. They'd drawn her in, and anchored her until she'd become aware of other voices.
She remembered how his thumb had moved across her cheek while Doc Mallard had checked her eyes, and she smiled to herself now.
Angel thought about how Conner had held her in his arms, easily. It had felt wonderful, until he'd called her 'ma'am'.
Once again, she'd romanticized a situation involving the Sheriff, and he'd been doing nothing more than his job.
The rest of the memories flooded in quick succession. She'd been able to feel his tension beside her on the sofa while Mavis had cleaned her injury, how he'd snatched his one hand from her, and put it under his thigh.
Cringing, Angel realized she must have been obvious in her attraction to him, because he was pulling away from her in a definite manner, almost hoping she'd catch the hint that he wasn't interested, so he wouldn't have to be rude to her and hurt her feelings by letting her down gently.
God, you're so bloody pathetic.
Hey! It's his loss!
What's he missing out on, huh? You've never done anything more than kiss. You're frigid.
I am not.
Maybe Ben was right.
Ben was an ass.
Ben had been her on again off again beau while she'd been in London for those three years. She'd met him at one of her mother's parties when Cassy had been based in England for a role, and had rented a rather luxurious mansion just north of London.
He was her height, quite handsome in a polished way, and very polite.
She hadn't felt any spark between them, but she'd been lonely just then while surrounded by those superficial people, so she'd allowed him to kiss her at the end of that night, and again the few times after they'd been out. And she'd enjoyed arriving to places with someone on her arm.
When he'd pressed her one night after a small get together at her flat, she'd had to push him off her. He'd had one too many glasses of wine and his hands had latched onto her breasts, bruising the flesh.
He'd called her frigid, and said that he'd only been going out with her to get to know her mother, anyway.
That had really hurt.
Ben had just turned twenty-seven, and the thirty-nine year old movie star wasn't too old for him, clearly. Nor was her nineteen-year-old daughter too young for him.
Cassy Cole had fallen pregnant after a brief affair with a wealthy English gentleman, a married English gentleman.
She was twenty years old, and had refused to get rid of the baby, much to an old woman's chagrin. It was her son who had strayed from his picture perfect marriage for a dalliance with an American starlet.
Cassy had already starred in two major films, and made a name for herself, and Andrew Dalton-Fiennes had been star-struck, and had fallen for her beauty, like so many others.
His very prim and proper wife had threatened a very public divorce if he didn't disown his illegitimate child. Andrew didn't have the spine to stand up to his over-bearing mother and wife, nor the desire for a public debacle.
Cassy hadn't cared for the attitude of the people around her baby's father, so she'd happily gone along with it.
After Angel had been born, Cassy had developed a revolving door when it came to men, some of them quite a bit younger than her. She'd never let anyone stick around long enough to form attachments, or bond with the little girl stumbling around. And Angel, confused and wanting a daddy, had sworn to never repeat her mother's mistakes.
Angel adored her mother, and would in later years forgive her for the unconventional childhood, but her convictions to never give herself to anyone without her heart involved had remained until she was in her twenties.
By then she'd already chucked Ben and moved south of London to pursue her studies as a chef, and then later specializing in baking and patisserie in New York.
Then Michelle and Owen had happened, and Angel had deferred her course for a year to be there for Michelle and the baby.
Once she'd returned to New York and completed her coursework, she found herself a position at a high profile French Patisserie and discovered her true passion in feeding people.
She never tired of watching people eating good food, or relishing in her baked goods.
Then three years ago, she'd met Tony at a farmer's market. They'd met at the baked good stall, where Angel had been drawn to the specialty breads, and he'd asked her opinion, when she'd excitedly placed her order.
A traditional Italian-American man working in his family-run pizzeria, he'd been the typical stereotype, and loved it.
He'd taught her to make the perfect New York pizza, and she'd shown him how to make the best cannelloni's. His grandmother had loved Angel's recipe so much, she'd immediately thrown out her old one, and put Angel's on their menu as a permanent fixture.
As Tony and Angel had spent more and more time together, their embraces had started getting more and more heated.
Flirty and steamy, the ends of their dates became more passionate, and Angel had invited Tony to her apartment. She'd decided before meeting Tony that she wanted her first time over and done with, and that waiting any longer was irrational in this day and age. She'd realized her vow of celibacy had been her own form of teenage rebellion against her mother; one she'd long since outgrown.
Before things had gotten any further though, she'd told him about her delicate situation.
She was still a virgin at twenty-seven, but she was more than ready to give herself to him. He'd tried to be kind and not let it affect him, but ultimately, it had scared him off.
Not wanting to lose the friendship they'd developed, she had reached out, and things had turned platonic between them.
A year later, she'd been the caterer at his wedding, and when she'd congratulated him with a hug, she felt zero remorse, or loss.
Since then, she hadn't bothered to get involved with anyone else. It was easier for her to keep things plain and simple, and just be friends. It made for a less complicated life.
She was a good friend to have, she knew, so Angel made friends easily.
Still lying in her bed, she heard the telltale sounds of a little boy in her house.
She pulled her dress back into place, and, spotting her forgotten underwear from that morning, shimmied into them carefully, trying not to remember the way Conner had looked at her when she'd informed him of her naked situation.
Her head was beginning to pound again, so she needed to get downstairs for some food, before swallowing some pills.
But before she did any of that, she needed the toilet.
Scurrying across to her bathroom, she had to duck her head and hold it in her hands. Being upright slammed the headache between her eyes with such force, the world started spinning.
She made it to the toilet, but was afraid to make the return journey.
"What do you think you're doing?" Michelle stood in the doorway between bedroom and bathroom, carrying a tray with a sandwich and a glass of juice.
"I had to pee," Angel whispered. "Please tell me that's mine?" She pointed to the tray.
"Next time, call me. You're not supposed to be up and about yet," Michelle went into the room and put the tray on the bedside table. "And yes, I was just coming up to check on you, and thought to bring you some food. I know you don't like to eat before noon on a Sunday, for some weird reason, so guessed you probably hadn't eaten yet today."
Michelle came to Angel's side, and winced when she looked behind her friend's ear.
"What the hell happened, Angie?"
"I slipped in the kitchen trying to bake a cake."
"Baking a cake on your day off before eight in the morning?" Michelle lifted her eyebrows skeptically. She scoffed. "Yeah, right. What really happened?"
"You're going to think I'm an idiot."
"Always," Michelle laughed. "Come on then, let's get you back to bed and you can tell me."
It was slow going. Angel was so much taller than Michelle, and she had to lean heavily onto her shorter friend. When the room started spinning again, she had been afraid that she would need to sit down, but knew getting up from the floor would be harder than the raised perch of the toilet seat.
When they reached the edge of the bed, Michelle let Angel carry her own weight down.
She helped prop Angel up, and put the tray across her lap.
Half the juice disappeared first, and then Angel consumed the plain cheese sandwich on the bread she'd baked herself, with rosemary and black olives.
God she loved bread.
She almost moaned as her stomach gurgled in happiness.
On the tray were two painkillers. She held off taking them, knowing they would make her loopy and tired again. Besides, the juice and sandwich had done wonders for her. Her headache pulled back to a dull throb.
"Better?" Michelle took the tray and put it on the floor next to her feet. She was seated beside her friend on the bed. She placed the painkillers on the bedside table with the rest of the juice.
"Much," Angel wiped her lips. "Thanks."
"So, tell me how you ended up unconscious on your kitchen floor, bleeding from your head."
Angel told her about the birds, about how she'd accidentally dialed the Sherriff's Department, including the why.
"I felt badly for avoiding him, when all he wants is to be friends. It's not his fault he doesn't return my affections."
Michelle bit her tongue. She was not getting in the middle of this. Yet.
"But when I heard he was on his way over here, I panicked. I wasn't prepared to see him again and not have my silly girlish reaction to him. So I figured I needed an excuse to ask him to leave, and making a cake seemed perfect. I forget why."
Angel sank lower against the pillows bunched behind her.
"Oh, Angel," Michelle laughed quietly, shaking her head as she looked at her friend through happily creased eyes. "You are too much sometimes."
"Stop laughing at me!" She chuckled herself. "I was running around like a crazy person, and I forgot that milk had to go in with the dry ingredients, but I sloshed it everywhere, then must have stepped in it and gone sprawling. Next thing I know, I'm looking up at Conner with his hands on my face."
"Yeah, he told me some of what happened after that, and I can only guess what happened up here when he brought you up."
"Oh, I thought I'd dreamt that. I prayed I'd dreamt it," Angel covered her face with her hands.
"You were pretty out of it by the time Jackson and I arrived. Seeing you in Conner's arms has only solidified the hero-status, by the way." Michelle smiled. She was watching Angel's face closely, reading it like a book. "What happened when he brought you up here?"
"What? Nothing," Angel avoided Michelle's gaze guiltily. Her face flushed a deep red. She focused on folding the covers back under her arms.
"Liar."
"Oh, Michelle, I'm so embarrassed. I was shameless. I was playing with his ear, and then I wouldn't let him go after he put me in the bed. I told him to kiss me."
"Ohmygod. Did he?" Michelle, enjoying herself immensely, brought both of her bare feet up and under her to sit cross-legged.
"No. I thought for a second there that he would, but then he must have remembered who he was with, and pulled away." Angel flushed deeper. She tried not to let her hurt show. Then her face paled.
You told him you were a virgin!
No I didn't. That was my dream.
You told him you were a virgin.
No, stop that. He would have laughed if I had.
"Headache?" Michelle put her cool palm to Angel's brow, concern replacing humor.
Angel nodded. She didn't want to discuss her virginal status again. Taking the pills Michelle offered her, she swallowed them with the remainder of the juice, gratefully. Her head was beginning to pound again.
"Oh, wait! My Jeep, and the porch. I need to get someone out here to clean up the mess before the poop damages the paint of my car."
"Already done. Rest now, Angel," Michelle brought the summer duvet up to Angel's chin, and brushed a hand over the pale face of her friend, much as she had with her son earlier in the day.
"Okay, but who?"
"The good Sheriff took it upon himself," Michelle brushed the hair from Angel's forehead.
Angel sighed, and snuggled into the pillow under her left cheek. "He really is turning out to be my hero."
Michelle smiled, kissed Angel gently on top of her head, and left.
She glanced over her shoulder before heading down the stairs.
Angel was in for the ride of her life, and Michelle was excited for her. She could feel something big was coming this way, and she had a feeling it was going to change them all.
She wasn't wrong.