by Stacy Gail
“You wanted to call us? And you were prevented? Did he stop you?” Novak loomed menacingly toward Twist, which was hard to do, since Twist was about an inch taller than he was. “Why the fuck did you stop her from calling us? Who the hell do you think you are?”
Oh, boy. “Novak, please just—”
Twist calmly held his ground. “I stopped her because it was four in the morning when I drove Angel home from the ER. No matter how close you guys are, that’s still a shitty time to call someone when there’s no longer an emergency to deal with.”
“Oh my God, the ER?”
“Okay, we’re taking this inside.” Steering a sputtering and bug-eyed Novak back toward their condo, Joey shot them a rueful smile over his shoulder. “Come on in and start from the top while I get some dinner going for us all. Novak’s going to need a beer, and I’m feeling a sudden craving for wine. Lots and lots of wine.”
“So. We finally got to meet the legendary Twist Santiago.” Sitting next to Angel on a cushy, microsuede loveseat, Joey took aim and let the playing card fly. It helicoptered over the brim of the fedora set on the coffee table in front of them. “I know you’ve told us a lot about him over the years. But you never mentioned he was so…”
“Bossy? Interfering? Arrogant?” Cradling her own deck of cards with the logo of Novak’s pro soccer team, the Chicago Shockers, on the back, she sent a card toward the hat and sank it. “Take your pick. They all apply.”
“I was going to say nice.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “Nice to you, and nice to look at.”
“I’d be jealous if I hadn’t given him a look or two myself.” Wandering in from the kitchen with a can of soda for Angel and a bottle of beer for himself in one hand, and a second glass of wine for Joey in the other, Novak dropped a quick kiss on his partner’s head before perching on the loveseat’s armrest. “He works out, obviously. Hey, Ange, do you know how much he can bench press?”
“Considering what he looks like underneath his shirt, I’d say a baby elephant’s worth of weight.”
Joey paused in reaching for his wine. “You saw him without a shirt?”
“I’m still seeing him without a shirt every time I close my eyes.” With a forlorn sigh, she sent another card toward the hat, then rested her head against his shoulder when the card sailed to the left. “It’s not fair that such a hot guy can be such an epic dick.”
“I dunno. He seemed cool to me,” Novak offered after he and Joey exchanged glances. “I mean, he only left your side to change his clothes and pick up some stuff, because he knew you were safe with us.”
“And he missed work today so he could keep an eye on you,” Joey added, tossing another card. “That doesn’t seem like dick behavior to me.”
“How’s this for dick behavior? While I was at work yesterday, he went into the break room, found the food I’d brought for my meals, and threw it all away.”
Novak slammed to his feet, instantly springing into his patented Hulk-smash mode. “He what?”
“He replaced it with stuff he thought would be healthier for me,” she hastened to add, and relaxed when she saw his fists unclench. “But that’s the problem—he obviously thinks I’m a moron, because he’s always trying to do my thinking for me. Last winter he yelled at me in front of the entire lobby because I was wearing flip-flops instead of ‘proper winter shoes,’ whatever the hell those are. He checks my clientele list to make sure they have his so-called approval. He thinks it’s up to him to decide what I should and shouldn’t eat.” She shook her head in pure frustration. “The list goes on and on. He’s constantly overstepping his bounds, and then he refuses to acknowledge he’s done anything wrong. This is total dick behavior.”
To her surprise, silence greeted this announcement rather than wholehearted agreement. Usually her best friends had her back, but as she studied them she saw the two men looking at each other in silent communication, before Joey shifted against her. “For the most part, men are simple creatures, sweetheart, and this is what usually trips women up. See, women are much more complex, so naturally they assume that men are the same way.”
She blinked. “Well… yeah. I mean, aren’t you?”
Joey rolled his eyes while Novak laughed and swigged his beer. “I can answer that in two words—hell, no. A woman will look at a dude’s behavior and see all these crazy-ass layers and motives behind every action, when in fact the dude’s acting in the most basic way imaginable. Usually he’s just pissing in corners and protecting his territory.”
“His territory?” Angel frowned. That didn’t sound good. “That may be, but that doesn’t apply in this case.”
“Yeah, it does, babe. Especially in this case.”
She shook her head. “But that doesn’t make sense. I’ve never once gone into Twist’s work area, or territory, and I’ve never talked to any of his clients out of fear that he might think I was trying to poach them. I don’t even know where he lives. Twist is the one who’s always barging into my booth and going through my stuff like he thinks he has every right to do so. If anyone should feel like their territory is being threatened, it’s me, not him.”
“Territory doesn’t have to be a place, Ange,” Novak corrected, shaking his head. “In fact, most of the time it has nothing to do with a place. Territorial behavior has everything to do with what you see as yours, including people. Especially people, now that I think about it.”
“Twist is possessive of you,” Joey explained unnecessarily, because Novak’s words had already hit her like a Mack truck. “I noticed that right off when he pulled you away from me. He didn’t know who I was and he sure as hell didn’t like me hugging you. I was another man who was touching what he considers his, and he wasn’t going to put up with that.”
“But that’s… that’s nuts,” she sputtered, flabbergasted. “I’ve never given him any indication that I can even tolerate him, much less…” She flailed an expressive hand. “Anything else.”
“Doesn’t matter, babe.” Novak waved this away with his now-empty beer bottle. “Whether you’re on board or not is irrelevant when a man is determined to mark his territory. It’s an instinctive, deep in your gut kind of thing. You see something that resonates within you, something that makes your inner Neanderthal go ‘mine, mine, mine!’ whenever you’re near it, and that’s it. Game over. It’s yours, no matter how irrational it is.”
“He’s not a complete caveman, so don’t get too freaked out,” Joey added while Angel stared at them in something like horror. “You’ve worked together for years now without being crowded by him, right? And this is the first time we’ve seen him around, so it’s obvious he’s got himself under control.”
“I don’t know about that,” she muttered, not sure why her heart was beating the crap out of her, but the sensation was too effervescent to be labeled as fear or upset. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was… exhilaration. “He’s been increasingly impossible to deal with. That’s why I’ve decided I’m done at House Of Payne. He’s made it almost impossible to work there and stay sane. I never know what he’s going to do next.”
“Sounds like Twist is all you think about, which is probably cool with him.” Novak shrugged and reached for the TV remote, his attention on the screen as he switched to a sports channel. “And I call bullshit on you quitting the House.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s a part of you, Ange, and I can’t see you chucking a part of yourself out the window. Not for Twist, not for anyone who’s pissing you off. Not for anyone, period. The House is your house, and no one can push you out of there.”
“Any second now he’s going to want to chest-bump you, so look out.” Joey threw his last card into the hat, then turned his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. “He’s right, though. If you want to leave your job because it’s no longer fulfilling to you artistically, or there are better opportunities for you elsewhere, then I can understand your need to go. But you’d only be hurting yourself if y
ou allow someone to force you out… especially when that person doesn’t want you to leave, and you don’t want to go.”
As far as she was concerned, the jury was still out on whether or not Twist wanted her out, considering he made life miserable. But one thing was certain—deep down she still felt House Of Payne was her true home. “I’m also being shut out of the concierge service, supposedly because I’m too frail to go into peoples’ houses by myself, or whatever. Apparently Payne believes all my clients are going to turn into wild-eyed rapists and murderers the moment I step into their homes.” When they didn’t immediately respond, she looked up to find them again exchanging glances and it instantly brought her hackles up. “Okay, what the hell is it about me? Do I really look that incompetent?”
“Incompetency has nothing to do with it.” Joey put his arm around her when she would have pushed to her feet. “You’re as professional as they come—you wouldn’t have lasted at the House for as long as you have if you weren’t. It has everything to do with how you look, and who you are.”
She huffed angrily. “What’s wrong with how I look?”
“There’s nothing wrong with how you look,” Novak said, eyes on the TV screen. “I’m a big fan of how you look. We both are. You’re so cute and cuddly and lickolicious in an innocent kind of way. When I first met you, I think one of the first things I asked you was if you should be out on your own without some kind of adult supervision.”
“I thought you were kidding.”
“Nope. Not even remotely.”
“I’ll never forget the first time I met you,” Joey added. “You were out at the pool, carefully applying sunscreen over your tats, and I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking if your parents had to give approval for all the ink you had. Then you did something that made my teeth almost fall out of my head.”
“I did?” She searched her memory and came up blank for anything unusual. “What did I do?”
He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You asked me, a total stranger, if I would mind putting sunscreen on your back. You didn’t even know my name, sweetheart, yet you invited a stranger to touch you in an intimate way.”
“But I’d already seen you around the complex with Novak, and I knew who you were even though we hadn’t been formally introduced. I knew you didn’t have a thing for women.”
Novak snorted. “Yeah, no.”
“I’m actually bi,” Joey said gently, stunning her. “We both are. Novak and I are in a committed relationship and totally devoted to each other, yes. I love him and he loves me—we are each other’s choice. But that doesn’t mean we haven’t given you a good, long look.”
Holy freaking crap.
“If I thought you were the kind of girl who’d go for a threesome, you’d have figured out long ago that we both have no problem getting hot for chicks,” Novak added, adjusting the TV’s volume while she goggled at him. “But you’re such a sweet little thing, I just couldn’t do it. Now you’ve become more like a sister to us and we love you without reservation. But that’s because we’re good guys. The good guys of the world naturally have this reaction to you—the protective, guard-the-innocent-hottie reaction. And good guys do whatever they can to make sure innocent hotties aren’t despoiled by all the bad guys of the world.”
“Wow,” she said faintly, while the world as she knew it stood on its head and mooned her. “You used the word despoiled. And you’re bi.”
“And you’re completely missing the point,” Joey said, his smile gentle while Novak snorted again. “Good guys automatically want to protect you, which is probably why your employer doesn’t want you going into the homes of people he doesn’t know. He probably feels the same way we do—that for every good guy out there who instinctively wants to protect you, there’s a bad guy who’s driven by a deep-seated instinct to ruin you.”
“That’s why I think I like this Twist dude,” Novak announced, surprising her. “He looks out for you, protects you, even tries to get you to eat right and wear the right shoes. He’s one of the good guys. You just need to open up your eyes and see him for what he is.”
Chapter Seven
Once Twist dropped off a packed duffle and a pot of his mother’s famous rice pudding at Angel’s, he headed next door. He didn’t even get to the front stoop when the door suddenly opened and Novak stepped out, a finger to his lips.
“Angel conked out about twenty minutes ago,” he said by way of greeting, his voice pitched low despite the fact that they were outside in the cool September night air. “We tried to get her to eat another helping of the penne pasta, but she just scrunched up her nose and buried her head in a pillow. I swear, she’s the pickiest damn eater I’ve ever known. It’s like she’s got the taste buds of a fuckin’ five year old.”
“Tell me about it.” Twist tucked her keys into his jeans pocket, all the while taking the other man’s measure. Novak was lean and cut, with an air of barely leashed energy crackling around him like a storm even when he stood perfectly still. If he hadn’t seen him with Joey, he would have had a serious problem with a guy like Novak living right next door to Angel. “She okay otherwise? Any headaches? Dizzy spells? Nausea? Any other kind of weird shit?”
“Nah. Just her usual, head-in-the-clouds Angel-ness.”
That had Twist cracking a smile. “Perfect way of putting it.”
“I was kind of hoping that motherfucker who attacked her might’ve knocked some real-world sense into her cute little noggin. But I think it’s too soon to tell at this point if this episode’s convinced her that not everyone on the planet is a pure-hearted descendant of Glinda the Good Witch.”
Twist’s smile widened. Thank God her neighbors recognized that alarming naïveté in Angel’s otherwise outstanding makeup. While he admired her optimism that made her see only the best in people, there had to be some kind of a limit. “It’d be great if we could somehow convince her that not everyone’s harmless without her suffering a loss of consciousness and a trip to the hospital.”
“No shit, man. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you had her back,” Novak added, leading the way into his place. “Joey and I really love her. Like, deeply, madly, truly—and we have for years. Know what I mean?”
There was something in the other man’s tone that made Twist pause, and his smile did a quick fade as he regarded the other man with narrowed eyes. “Not sure I do.”
“Heh. Trust me, you do.” Novak chuckled as if he found him amusing, but Twist didn’t see the humor of the moment. “Our little Angel is definitely a one-man woman, and that’s cool with us. She’s delicate, you know? And more traditionally minded than you might think, considering she doesn’t exactly look the part of Suzy Homemaker. That means she’s looking for that one guy and one guy only, who’s going to woo her in the traditional way, and sweep her off her feet.”
Twist’s jaw locked. Who the hell was this guy to tell him what he already knew about Angel? Her artwork showed what a romantic soul she was; in almost everything she created, he could see she believed in magic and true love. She believed in princes sweeping their princesses off their feet. She believed in happily-ever-after. He knew that, just as clearly as he knew an ex-con could never be a prince. And a prince was what dreamy-eyed Angel deserved.
But the last thing he needed was to hear that from this guy.
“That’s interesting,” he said, eyeing Novak in a way that let the other man know he’d just landed on dangerous ground. “You seem to think you know a lot about Angel.”
“I do. Or at least I know how to work my way around her without pissing her off so bad she can’t stand to be around me.” Novak looked back over his shoulder as he opened the front door. “Maybe I should give you some lessons on that score?”
“Fuck off.”
Novak chuckled again. “I just want my beautiful Angel to be happy, dude. That’s all I’m saying.”
“And all I’m saying is, she’s not yours.”
“She’s not yours yet, either. Not
by a fuckin’ mile. That’s not on me, or Joey, and it’s certainly not on Angel. That sad state of affairs is totally on you.”
Twist wisely kept his silence as he followed Novak into the condo, his grinding irritation dissolving when his gaze fell on Angel. She was curled up in her usual tight ball, her long mermaid’s hair spilling over the pillow under her cheek. The sight of her hands tucked under her chin made something tighten painfully in his chest, and without glancing at Joey, who’d come in from the kitchen to nod a greeting his way, he bent down and scooped her up.
“It’s fine if she sleeps here tonight,” Joey began, and Twist glanced back to find the blond haired man looking like a storm cloud at having Angel disturbed. Too fucking bad, Twist thought, heading for the door while Angel stirred sleepily in his arms. No way in hell was she spending the night with them when he was right there. They couldn’t be trusted with her, but he could.
Sort of.
“Door,” he said, looking at Novak. In response, Angel’s neighbor shot him a sharp grin and opened it with a flourish.
“Don’t get lost now.”
Asshole, Twist thought, moving without pause through the night and into Angel’s condo that he’d left open. He paused just long enough to kick the door shut, in case her neighbors wanted to follow behind him so they could continue to display their prowess at being pains in his ass. He hit the nearest light switch with his elbow, then headed toward the master bedroom while soft light bloomed overhead in the living room.
“Mm.” Angel’s eyes opened and she looked around in confusion as he set her down by the bed she’d made up before they’d left, the light coming in through the open door washing over her face. “Uh-oh. Did the guys kick me out?”
“Yeah. They said you’re a terrible guest because you fell asleep on them.” He smiled when she blinked and then, because she was so damn cute, he cupped her jaw and kissed her. He didn’t really think the gesture through. It was just an impulse that seemed right for the moment. But when her lips clung to his with a sweet, welcoming pressure, it drained his brain and filled his world. It was the kind of kiss that welcomed a man home after he’d been away at war. The kind of kiss knights received from grateful damsels in distress. The kind of kiss that made a person realize there were some things in the world worth fighting for and dying for.