Angel's Halo (Angel's Halo MC 1)

By the time Bash returns, forty-five minutes later, I’m nearly finished and starting to get frustrated because my stomach really is making noises I can’t ignore anymore. I smell the delicious aroma that can’t be mistaken as anything other than Aggie’s, and moments later Bash appears in the doorway of the office with my food.

“Was she crazy busy?” I ask, knowing that on Saturdays Aggie’s is crawling with not only bikers but college kids and the braver of the Creswell Springs’ occupants.

Bash sits the bag on the corner of the desk, offering me a to-go cup of Aggie’s special sweet tea. He remembers that I’m addicted to her tea. “She was run off her feet, even with six waitresses and three cooks in the back. But when I asked her to make your food, because I know you hate other people touching your stuff, she dropped everything to get it for me.”

I can’t help but snicker. “You mean Aggie dropped everything for you. She loves you more than anyone else.” I pull out my steak sandwich. It’s loaded with steak, onions, banana and green peppers, mayo, steak sauce, and cheese sauce on freshly baked French bread. I nearly moaned at the heavenly scent. Next comes the onion rings. Double dipped in batter and crispy. A cup of blue cheese dressing follows and I nearly melt.

“Where’s yours?” I ask around a mouthful of onion rings.

“Aggie kept shoving plates in front of me while I was waiting on your food. I’m stuffed.” He has a second bag in his hand which he placed carefully on the desk beside my tea. “Dessert.”

My eyes widen and I grab the bag. Inside is a slice of Aggie’s secret recipe triple chocolate fudge cake with raspberry sauce drizzle. It’s irrational, but tears suddenly burn the back of my eyes. No one—no one—has ever taken care of me the way Bash had.

Blinking to keep the tears at bay, I clench my jaw and carefully place the bag back on the desk. “Thanks,” I mutter.

Strong fingers grasp my wrist gently, and I’m pulled up from the chair and against a hard wall of muscles. Bash lifts his free hand and cups the side of my face, making me meet his silver-blue gaze. “Are you crying, Raven?” he demands in a rougher than usual voice.

“No,” I lie, but a tear breaks free and slips down the cheek he touches.

A callused thumb wipes the errant tear away. “Raven …”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I whisper.

“You aren’t fine. The last time I saw tears in those pretty eyes I nearly killed a man.” His head lowers, his nose skimming down my neck. I know I should push him away and get back to work. Instead I find myself grasping his belt loop on his jeans with my free hand and holding on tight. “It’s only dessert, Raven. Why would it make you cry?”

“Because…” I swallow back a whimper as I feel his lips and then his tongue graze over the pulse at the base of my throat. “…because you always think about the little things. No one’s ever done that … except you.”

He growls something I don’t understand and releases my hand to grip my ass. He presses me hard against him, letting me feel how much he wants me. Both my hands grip his jeans, holding on because I know I’m going to need him to balance me. “I’ll always take care of you.” He breathes against my ear. “You’ll always be mine.”

I don’t speak. There’s no use. I’m not about to lie and deny his words.

Gracie

I’m not the kind of person that can sit around doing nothing. When Felicity and Raven left, I was all alone in the big house. They’d told me to make myself at home, so I try to do just that.

I make myself a sandwich and a big glass of iced tea. Then I clean up the kitchen. Apparently no one cares if there are dirty dishes in the sink or not, so I wash them and then start wiping down the counters. Feeling restless, I decide to vacuum the living room. It’s not that the house is dirty, not by a long shot. I just desperately need something to do to distract myself from all the things going around and around in my head.

I’m still freaked out from the night before. My fingers tremble just thinking about what could have happened if Hawk Hannigan hadn’t been there to save me. Thinking of Hawk makes my heart race, because despite what had happened less than twenty-four hours ago, he makes me feel something I’ve never felt before. Fudge! That makes me sound like a slut …

The way I insulted Hawk earlier makes me cringe. I’ve never been so ashamed of myself before in my life. Why had I believed all of those stupid rumors about the local biker gang in the first place? It was proved, all too clearly, the night before that they are better people than any of the jocks, who are supposedly upstanding people, that go to the university with me.

It’s late afternoon before I hear the back door opening. I stick my head into the kitchen and frown when I see someone I don’t recognize pulling a beer out of the fridge. “I didn’t know you were still here, Raven.” The stranger speaks with his back still turned to me. “Can I fix a sandwich? I’m starving and Tanner hasn’t done any grocery shopping.”

“I can fix you something,” I offer.

At the sound of my voice, the guy’s head shoots around and blue eyes rake over me. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Gracie. Who are you?” He has dark hair and his shoulders aren’t nearly as wide as either Hawk’s or his brother Colt’s. This guy isn’t bad too bad to look at, but I can’t begin to compare him to Hawk’s utter maleness.

“Matt. I live next door.” He turns back to the open fridge, pulling out stuff for a sandwich. “So, you must be why we have to make a run tonight.” He grins over his shoulder. “Have to say that I would be pulling rank and doing the same shit as Hawk. You have got to be the sweetest looking thing I have seen in—well fuck, forever.”

“I … um … thanks?” I’m not sure how to respond to all of that, but I assume it’s meant as a compliment.

“Christ! Are you blushing?” He laughs and I felt my temper start to rise. I can handle most things, except people laughing at me.

I open my mouth, not sure what I’m going to say but knowing that I don’t like him. Before a single word escapes me, the back door opens and Hawk steps into the kitchen. His olive-jade eyes narrow when he sees Matt, and then his gaze moves to me. Seeing the look in my eyes, the blush that still shades my cheeks, he explodes. “What did you do, Matt?”

“Hey, man, I just got here. I haven’t done shit.”