CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Angel stood in the doorway of his cabin, watching Mary as she worked on her plan for the class. She was still so stunningly beautiful it took his breath away. It seemed a lifetime ago that he walked into that children's clothing store, and yet, it wasn't a lifetime at all. Whatever Matthew and Mama Irene did to slow time for them was working.

The way she'd looked up at him when he spoke to her, it was all so clear.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The voice was like a melody, the sexy purr rolling over his body. She had this sweet, calm tone that sounded as though she were singing, but she wasn't. It floated over his body coating him in comfort and peace.

Angel turned to see the face that belonged to that voice. She was about five-foot-six, he guessed, from his own six-foot-four height. She had long dark brown hair that fell in waves down her back and the most incredible green eyes he had ever seen. They were rimmed with yellow flecks and what almost looked like lavender. Her thick black lashes fell to her cheeks every time she blinked. She was what most men would describe as plump, but he thought she was perfect. Curves everywhere and places a man could hold onto.

"I, uh, hi. Yes. Yes, I'm looking for baby gifts for my friends' newborn twins." He stuttered and couldn't find his words, not something he was used to.

"Twins! Wow, that's amazing. How old are they?" she asked. Her smile lit up the room. Straight, perfect white teeth beneath her full lips made him groan inwardly.

"I, uh, maybe…" he stumbled with his words and didn't know why. She took his breath away. "Sorry, they're only a week old." His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and his hands started to sweat.

"Okay, well, most of that will be right here. They weren't preemies, right?" His face looked confused, and she smiled up at him, her round cheeks pink and smooth. "Were they less than five pounds?"

"Oh. Oh, no, they were really big, in fact. One was like seven pounds and something, and the other was only a few ounces different."

"Poor Mom," she said with a smile. "Okay, well, any of the items between these two dividers will do. Do you know what they need?"

He watched her moving, the sway of her hips in her long black skirt. She had on black sandals with shiny stones glued to them, and her toes were the most adorable shade of pink. Her top was a white off-the-shoulder number with lace around the edges, and it highlighted her ample breasts.

"Oh. Sorry, no, I don't know, but do you accept returns or exchanges?"

"Absolutely!" she said cheerfully. "They can return it within sixty days, and I'll refund or replace."

Angel nodded at the woman who casually talked to him. She seemed completely unaffected by him. Women weren't usually this way. Usually, they fell at his feet and acted like complete fools around him. But this woman, she acted like he was just an average everyday Joe, and he fucking loved it!

"I'm going to get a few things from the back that just came in. I'll be right back." She moved through the curtain toward the back room and disappeared.

He could only nod as he watched her move to the back room.

"Sorry," she said, blushing as she returned to him. "I didn't mean for that to take so long. I have a few new items that would be perfect. Some sleepers, bibs, t-shirts, and blankets all made especially for twins." She held up the t-shirts, and both said, ‘I'm the good-looking twin.'

He chuckled as he read the t-shirts and knew that these would be perfect for Lauren and Trak.

"Great, can you wrap them for me? All of it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling, hoping it would have an effect on her.

"Sure, it will just be a few moments." Mary moved around the counter and pulled out several beautiful boxes and tissue paper. Carefully folding each item and laying it in the box, she then wrapped it in the most exquisite blue paper with gold and blue ribbons.

Ringing all the tickets, she told him the total, and he handed her a credit card. Swiping the card, she looked up at him.

"Can I see your ID, Mr. Jordan?"

"Sure thing," he said, "and my friends call me Angel." She smiled up at him and replied.

"I bet they do."

A blush. So, she wasn't unaffected, just mature about her reactions. He liked that. A lot. Alright then, maybe there's a chance here, Angel boy.

Mary looked at the ID, and he heard her groan.

"Thank you," she said, handing the ID and card back to him. "If you'll sign here, you're all set."

He looked at the receipt. Angel Haven. Okay, that had to be a fucking sign, right?

"Thanks for all your help, Mary."

She looked up at him, confused as to how he knew her name, and then she saw his eyes move to her chest. She immediately chastised herself for thinking there was something else. Just her name tag.

"Do you own this shop?"

"I do. It's my baby, pardon the pun." She smiled up at him. "I've been here about two years now. Things are finally starting to pick up."

"It's really great. My friends all seem to be having babies right now. It's a bit overwhelming," he casually looked at her left hand, which was mercifully ringless.

"I know what you mean. I think that has passed me by," she said with a hint of a sad tone.

"No way. You're still young and beautiful. I'm sure you'll have a family one day," he smiled his best smile at her, but she only looked at him in an odd way. Nothing lustful, nothing flirtatious, almost curious, and something else, something Angel hated — pain.

"I don't think so, Mr. Jordan," she said.

"Angel."

"What?"

"Angel, just call me Angel," he said.

"Okay. Angel. I don't think so. Those days have passed me by, I assure you." She moved around the counter, and two more women entered the store. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Angel?"

"Have coffee with me." He flashed his brightest smile and hoped that there would be something in the beautiful woman in front of him that would prompt her to say ‘yes.'

She looked at him with an open mouth and just stared.

"That's not funny, Mr. Jor- Angel. I may not be the supermodel stick figure I'm sure you're used to, but I have feelings, and I have standards. I don't like being the butt of jokes and made fun of. I know who I am, and I'm happy with that. I don't date pricks." Her face flamed red, and her eyes welled with tears.

His eyes flew wide, and at first, he was pissed. But looking into her eyes, he realized that she had been hurt. Bad. Someone had told this beautiful creature that she wasn't worthy of being loved, and he was suddenly angry, but not at her.

"Listen, Mary, you don't know me at all, but I don't date stick-figure supermodels. In fact, I haven't had a date in almost a year. And I sure as hell don't ask women for coffee unless I want to get to know them. So please don't think you have me all figured out when we don't even know one another. I'm a good, decent man, and I find you incredibly beautiful." He took a breath and watched her wary expression. "Now. I'd like to have coffee with you and get to know you. Would you be interested?"

"I'm sorry, Angel. That was rude of me. I'm so embarrassed. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that. I promise I'm not normally like this. Listen, I don't know if this is a good idea. I'm several years older than you are," she said quietly.

"Mary, it's just coffee. Please," he said pleadingly, taking her hand in his. His long, beautiful fingers held her hand, and she nearly came right there in her panties.

"Alright," she said with a shy smile. "I close the shop at four every day. I'm closed on Mondays and Sundays and only open Saturday mornings."

"Okay then," he said with a huge grin across his face. "I'll be back at four."

"Wait?! Today?" she said, confused and somewhat panicked.

He reached for the door handle and turned to face her, smiling, the light from the glass shining a halo around his head.

"Today, Mary. Mary, what's your last name?" he said casually.

"Mary Fitzhugh," she said in a stunned voice.

"Okay, Mary Fitzhugh, I, Luke "Angel" Jordan, will be back here at four. See you then, Mary, Mary."

"She's still hot, isn't she, Dad?" smirked Luke behind him. He was standing with his brother Marc and sister Georgie. He chuckled softly, nodding at them.

"She's still the most beautiful woman in the entire world. I'm glad you all see that as well."

"We got both of your genes. Great genes, in fact," smiled Georgie.

The triplets had been such a huge surprise for them but such a blessing as well. They adored their children and were proud of their accomplishments. They even blessed them with grandchildren, one set of triplets in the bunch.

"Did you guys need something?" asked Angel quietly, not wanting to disturb Mary.

"Just walking by the cabin," said Marc. "See you at dinner tonight." He hugged his three children, kissing their cheeks as they left, laughing and joking with one another. When he turned, Mary was pushing back her wave of auburn hair, twisting it on top of her head with a pencil. Her voluptuous breasts pressed forward, and his body reacted.

"You still take my breath away," he whispered. She looked up at him, smiling.

"How long have you been standing there?" she smiled.

"A while," he grinned, walking toward her. He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her toward him. His body was hot for her, and he wasn't about to let her go. "You're as beautiful as the day I met you."

"I remember that day," she smiled, rubbing her hands up and down his arms. "I thought you were joking with me, wanting to have coffee with an older woman."

"I believe you thought I was after the stick-figure models," he frowned.

"Don't remind me. I hate that I thought that about you. You've proven over a lifetime that this is the body you wanted. I'm grateful every day that you chose me and that I was smart enough to say yes."

"This body still makes me so fucking hard and hot I can't stand it. Can you stop what you're doing?" he asked. She nodded, nibbling on that lower lip like she always did. "Good. Because I'm going to make long, slow, sweet love to you, my Mary. When I'm done, I'm going to do it again."

"Then lock the door, sexy," she grinned. "I don't want to be disturbed."