But Jace had. Maddy was whole with his love and support, and that was the best thing that could have happened. Even if the way they’d met had been unorthodox. Angie didn’t know everything—more of that sensitive information stuff—but Jace had apparently mistook Maddy for a criminal and apprehended her.
Which is how Angie’s life ended up containing muscled men who carried weapons and exuded an air of danger and confidence that was intoxicating under the right circumstances.
Mostly, the right circumstances were when the man was Colt and he was doing his utmost to take care of her.
The power flickered and the lights died. Angie felt Colt tense but then the lights snapped on again a few seconds later. Maddy kept chatting about her visit to The Oaks to see Mimi, the renovations, and how happy she was that Angie was feeling better. They talked about Barton, Barnes and Blake and the effort to reopen. They briefly discussed Jenny, but Maddy hadn’t known Jenny.
Angie felt Colt’s gaze on her, as if he was urging her not to say too much. She took the hint and didn’t discuss anything that Maddy didn’t bring up.
“We should get going,” Colt said when they’d been there for half an hour. He gave Maddy a kiss on the cheek. “I need to put the groceries away and start dinner.”
Maddy smiled up at him. “Listen to you, sounding so domestic. Fine, run home and put dinner on.”
She winked at Angie, and Angie felt the beginnings of another blush.
“Thanks for taking such good care of my bestie,” Maddy said.
“It’s been my honor,” Colt replied. Angie’s heart squeezed at how serious he sounded. Like she was important. Special.
His gaze met hers, and butterflies swirled like they’d been caught in a tornado.
Good lord, she was a goner.
Angie was silent on the ride home. Other than a quiet “Thank you, Colt. I needed that,” she didn’t say anything more. The ride wasn’t far, only a couple of blocks, so he probably shouldn’t be surprised. He checked the house before he let her inside, then returned to get the rest of the groceries. Angie waited in the kitchen. When he set the bags down she started to pull items out and place them on the counter.
“Do you have a particular way you want the cold stuff put away or does it matter?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. Even if it did, he wouldn’t tell her. He’d let her be helpful because she wanted to, and then he’d shift it all later if it mattered to him. Which it really didn’t.
Angie opened the fridge and put things inside while he put the dry goods in the pantry. It was more than he usually bought since he never knew when he’d be out of the country, but he’d enjoyed shopping with Angie. He’d kept thinking of things he wanted to cook for her.
She picked up a box of pancake mix and frowned.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She handed it to him and he put it in the pantry.
“The last time I saw Jenny, we had pancakes. I never imagined it would be the last time.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “Like I said, we weren’t close or anything. It’s just so awful that she’s gone. And even more awful if someone killed her. I hope you find out if they did, and then I hope you make them pay for it.”
“If she was murdered, we’ll make them pay for it.”
“I know you will,” she said with a soft smile. She shook herself. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’d rather think about happier things. Like dinner. What’s the plan?”
He put his hands on her shoulders, skimmed them down her arms, and held her lightly. She didn’t pull away, and he felt a hot wave of possessiveness flood him. So much progress in such a short time. He wondered how much farther they could go, but he wasn’t going to push. He dropped a kiss on her forehead, inhaled the scent of her shampoo, and straightened.
“How about that coq au vin you wanted before? I can get started on it and it’ll simmer until dinner.”
“Mmm, sounds good. Can I help?”
“You can chop vegetables.”
She put her palms on his chest, stared at the backs of her hands. He held her lightly so she could break away if she wanted. But she didn’t. Finally, she looked up at him, their gazes locking. He saw trust in her gaze. And heat.
The heat sent a signal to his brain that nearly short-circuited it. Easy, boy.
“You’ve been so good to me,” she said. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. And I… I like being here with you.”
“I like being with you too, Angie.”
She smiled. His dick grew harder. He wanted to kiss her, but he knew if he did it would be almost impossible to stop. And he wasn’t making the first move. It was up to her. He hadn’t realized that’s what he’d decided until this moment, but he had. It felt right.
He skimmed his fingers over her cheek and took a step back. She seemed puzzled for a second, but she turned toward the fridge and pulled it open. “What am I chopping, chef?”
“Carrots, onion, garlic, and mushrooms.”
“Already sounds delicious.”
They worked together like a seasoned team. Colt browned the chicken, then removed it from the pan and cooked the vegetables. Angie watched everything he did, handed him seasonings as he needed them, and opened the oven when it was time to put the pot with the chicken, wine, and vegetables inside to bake.
“How long do you leave it in there?” Angie asked.
“A couple of hours.”
She grinned at him. “I’m completely impressed with you right now. The omelet and crepes were delicious, and you make a mean piece of toast, but everything you just did? Wow.”
He shrugged.
