Page 97 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
“Come here, Angel. Don’t be afraid. I know what to do.”
Then I tipped her chin up and kissed her. As I’d expected, Angelina responded to me immediately, going up on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around my neck. She pressed the front of her body against mine and kissed me back with just as much love and passion as I felt for her.
It was unlikely anyone would mistake her enthusiastic participation in the kiss, but just in case, I dropped my hands from her body and clasped them behind my back as the police burst through the door.
Angelina remained plastered to me, holding on as if she were the aggressor and had no intention of letting me escape her clutches.
Finally breaking the kiss, she turned toward the two uniformed men, who stood gaping with their guns drawn. One of them was middle aged with close cropped salt and pepper hair. His partner was younger, in his late twenties, very thin with sandy brown hair and a mustache to match.
“What’s going on? Why are you here?” she asked them.
“Wait—thisis the ‘little girl’ you called us about?” the older patrolmen asked Angelina’s mother, who hung back in the hallway.
Almost at the same time, the younger officer said, “Is that… Sullivan Reece, the boxer?”
“Hello officers,” I said in a friendly tone. “Is there a problem?”
Angelina wrapped her arms around my waist and laid her head on my chest.
The confused looking policemen holstered their weapons. “So… you’re okay, ma’am? There’s no intruder?”
Angelina smiled. “No, of course not. I told you I was in here with my boyfriend.”
Pulling out the ring box again, I corrected, “Notboyfriend, Angel—fiancé—if you’ll have me, that is.”
I gave the officers a grin. “She hasn’t said yes or no yet… women love to keep a guy in suspense.”
“How oldareyou, ma’am?” the gray-haired officer asked.
“I’m twenty-four. Plenty old enough to know what I want. And what I want…” She turned to me, “is you. Yes, Iwillmarry you Sullivan Reece. I love you with all my heart.”
As we kissed, the officers spoke in low voices with Angelina’s mother, who sounded none too happy.
“I want him arrested. He’s obviously corrupted my daughter,” she protested then followed them down the stairs, demanding their badge numbers and threatening their jobs.
Angelina and I went downstairs as well and walked the men to the front door. As the young officer got my autograph, the older one pulled Angelina aside.
“If you need help dealing with your mother’s mental problems, Butler Hospital is very good. We could take her in for a psych evaluation tonight, if you’d like.”
Angelina smiled and thanked him, shooting a glance at her mother who glowered at them from an antique settee in the nearby parlor.
“No—not this time. I think she meant well. But I’ll be sure to let you know if we see any signs of instability in the future. Thank you again officers. Have a good night.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Let Down Your Hair
Angelina-- October
New England had served up a perfect Autumn Saturday.
Sixty-eight degrees, blue skies, and not a hint of humidity—and thank goodness for that last part. My elaborate updo would never have survived otherwise. It had taken the stylist literally hours to create.
The ceremony had been stunning, with both the bride and groom crying through our vows and one hell of a kiss to punctuate them.
Now we and our guests were enjoying a reception at one of the Village by the Sea’s most glamorous venues, a fifty-thousand-square-foot mansion modeled after the Louis XIII hunting lodge at Versailles.
Its French Gothic ballroom featured an enormous fireplace with a surround crafted to resemble a fairytale castle, and the banquet hall had ten crystal chandeliers and a rose marble mosaic floor.
