Page 47 of Desiring an Angel

She finally shut up, firmly biting on her lower lip.

More than anything, I wanted to fulfill Ash’s hopes and dreams, but the flighty magpie making a fool of herself in front of me wasn’t the winged angel I’d envisioned—even if embarrassment looked good on her.

I tore my focus off her expressive, beautiful face to find Ash gazing at her with fucking hearts in his eyes—exactly as I’d dreaded.

Clearing my throat drew his attention toward me.

Pink stained his cheeks, and he grinned and shrugged as though unsure whether he should apologize or state again how perfect Skylar was.

No smile curved my lips in response to his.

17

Skylar

Idiot…moron!

Never had my nerves gotten the best of me in such a way. Telling him I bet his dick was delicious? Seriously?

I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear as all the bad feels flushed through me. Heat had ignited inside me when Ashton had called out my name, and the sight of Rhett had intensified the overwhelming sense of wow-ness to the point I’d lost what little brains I had.

Rhett stared at Ashton, his face void of emotion as silence settled thickly between us.

A robot—that was what he reminded me of from his carefully styled hair to his ironed button-down, perfectly knotted tie—who wore a tie for a plane ride across the country?—and slacks that didn’t appear to have a single, rumpled crease. Shiny shoes like Ashton, a fancy watch like Ashton…too…picture-perfect.

I released Ashton’s fingers without thought and reached for Rhett’s hair. A quick run of both of my hands through his thick locks to ruin his perfection brought back my grin. “There. Now you look human,” I murmured my thoughts out loud.

He held still beneath my unplanned attack on his hair but didn’t glance away from Ashton. “You can’t be serious,” Rhett muttered, and I slunk back a step at the cold words.

Being ignored hadn’t ever hurt so bad.

My heart felt like a jagged knife attempted to plunge in its depths, and I blinked against sudden tears.

Ashton snickered—laughed—shaking his head at Rhett and grabbed my hand to tug me against his side fast enough that I squeaked.

The welling anxiety and sadness inside me eased at his physical show of affection. He brushed his lips over my cheek, further settling my roller-coaster emotions, as did the happiness in his eyes as he gave me his attention.

I’d messed up our first meeting with Rhett, but I would win him over in order to keep Ashton’s dimple and those beautiful hazel eyes in my life.

Chin lifting, I inhaled a deep, shaky breath and turned toward Rhett once more. I held out my hand and clamped my mouth shut even though nerves still demanded I fill the tense silence.

He slowly pulled his focus off Ashton’s face and studied my calloused hand.

His presence dominated the cavernous kitchen, the scent of pine needles mingling with Ash’s cologne headier than pheromones to my sex-starved imagination.

He was intimidating as hell.

Composed and breathtaking, Rhett Stirling made me feel small. Worthless.

His cold stare created the need to cave in on myself.

Perhaps Rhett was jealous of me. God knew I was of him and the twenty-some years he’d gotten to enjoy having Ashton in his life.

I needed to find a way to show Rhett that I wanted him too, that he was just as important to me as his partner—or that he could be if only he’d let me in.

The longer he ignored my hand, the more my anxiety rose. But I told myself I needed to give Rhett time due to his recent loss. I imagined the sadness he didn’t allow to show on his face, combined with having a strange woman in his home when he probably just wanted to be alone with Ashton in his grief. Ashton had said Rhett was stoic, but the man’s face didn’t twitch when I’d offered my condolences. He couldn’t be completely unmoved.

Perhaps he needed a hug, my strong sense of empathy suggested.

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