by Linda Turner
Not that Merry looked old, Angel quickly assured herself. Far from it. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous, and that wasn’t a description Angel used lightly, not when there were beautiful women on every street corner in L.A. Not a one of them could have held a candle to Merry McBride. She was striking. Tall and graceful, with a cloud of dark hair she’d secured at the nape of her neck with a clip, she had the delicately sculptured features of a model and a smile that had, no doubt, slain many a man where he stood when the force of it and her sapphire eyes were turned his way.
“You have a beautiful daughter,” Sara told Angel, her smile softening as it fell on Emma. “She must bring you a lot of joy.”
She couldn’t have said anything that could have touched Angel’s heart more. “Yes, she does. I can’t even remember what my life was like without her.”
“Bring her over to the clinic the next time you have some time off and she can play with the puppies,” Merry said as Emma scooped up a squirming Labrador pup that was half as big as she was and kissed it on the top of the head. “We’ve always got a litter or two running around, tearing up the place.”
“I’ll do that,” Angel promised. “Thank you. She’d love that.”
“Where’s Janey?” Joe asked. “Manning the first-aid booth?”
Merry nodded. “I tried to talk her into going to the dance with me later, but you know how she is. She’s going to shut down the booth at ten, then run by the nursing home and check on Mrs. Goodman.”
“Maybe I’ll stop by and see if I can talk some sense into her,” Joe said with a frown. “She already spends too much time working as it is. She needs to go out and have some fun.”
“Said the pot to the kettle,” his mother retorted with an arch look, her lips curling in a teasing grin. “If I remember correctly, we used to say the same thing about you. Janey will be all right. She just does things at a different pace than the rest of you.”
A flock of preschoolers rushed up then to see the animals, and Sara and Merry had to get back to work. “Stop by the house sometime,” Sara told Angel as she snatched up a rabbit before a little boy could step on it. “We’ll have lunch.”
Thanking her for the invitation, Angel promised to do that, then grabbed a protesting Emma. “But, Mommy, I want to give the rabbit a kiss!”
“I know you do, sweetheart, but you can kiss him later. How would you like to get your face painted?”
“Aha,” Joe teased, taking the squirming Emma out of her arms to toss her into the air until she giggled. “So now we’re resorting to bribery.”
“Hey, you do whatever works,” Angel replied without apology. “God help us if they’re out of glitter.”
Emma got her face painted with enough glitter to satisfy even the most demanding three-year-old, only to run out of energy and fall asleep in Joe’s arms as they made their way through the crowd. It was barely nine o’clock, but long past her bedtime, and with a trust that stole Joe’s heart right out of his chest, she laid her cheek against his shoulder and went limp.
Touched, he cradled her close, delighted with her little girl scent of cotton candy and candied apples. “Maybe we should take her home,” he told Angel. “She’s a whipped puppy.”
“I’ll take her if you like,” Laura volunteered. “Then you two can stay for the street dance.”
Surprised, Joe glanced at Angel, leaving the decision up to her. He hadn’t touched her since they’d made love—he hadn’t dared—but he knew he would tonight if he got the chance. Right or wrong, there were some things a man just couldn’t resist. And holding her again, even if it was at a public dance, was one of those things. “It’s your call,” he said roughly.
She wanted to say yes, he could see it in her eyes, but she hesitated uncertainly. “We came in one car. How will we get back to the ranch?”
“Janey probably came here straight from work. I’ll borrow her car and she can ride back to the ranch with Mom and Merry.”
Still not sure, she frowned. “What about the guards? Will they have to split up? I don’t want to take any chances with Emma.”
“They can both go home with her and Laura,” he assured her.
“But, sir,” the older of the two security guards protested. “The studio wants Ms. Wiley protected at all times.”
“She will be—by me. I won’t let her out of my sight.” Not giving him a chance to argue, Joe looked pointedly at Angel. “She’s your daughter and I would never expect you to do anything that would put her in danger or make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever you decide will be fine by me.”
In the end, the choice was easy. Not because she ached to be back in Joe’s arms—though she did—but because there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Emma would be safer back at the ranch. There, away from the strangers that filled the streets of Liberty Hill, she would be locked inside the house with the security system activated and Buster and the night guards on duty to protect her and see that nothing happened to her.
“I think it would be safer for Emma to return to the ranch with Laura and the guards. If,” she added quickly, “we can borrow your sister’s car so they can take your truck.”
“Then let’s go find Janey,” he said, and headed for the first-aid booth at the far end of the square.
Dressed in her nurse’s uniform, her dark brown hair pulled back from her face and twisted up into a serviceable bun, Janey was cleaning a freckle-faced little hellion’s scraped knee when Joe strode up with Emma still asleep on his shoulder and his small entourage of women and security guards trailing behind him. When Angel came to a stop beside him as they waited for his sister to finish patching up her ten-year-old patient, he didn’t have to read Angel’s mind to know what she thinking.
While Merry had the kind of beauty that could literally stop traffic, Janey was as ordinary as apple pie. Like Merry, she, too, had inherited their mother’s flawless skin, but that was as far as the family resemblance went. While Merry’s face was oval, Janey’s was slightly rounder, her cheeks less sculptured. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would ever walk through a room and leave men panting after her, but if anyone needed help, she was the first one to offer aid. And in her brown eyes was the kind of caring and kindness that went soul deep. Her beauty might not fit traditional standards, but it only took a smile to light up her face.
Giving her patient a sucker, she sent him on his way. When she looked up to greet her next casualty victim, her slow smile bloomed at the sight of Joe waiting for her. “Hey, big brother, I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Last time you came to the festival, Roosevelt was in office, wasn’t he?”
“Cute, sis,” he chuckled. “Real cute. At least when I come, I don’t work. Why aren’t you going to the dance with Merry?”
She could have made any one of a number of excuses, but she only shrugged, the half smile that curled her mouth containing little humor. “You know me—I don’t do well in a crowd.” Looking past him, she spied Angel and nodded shyly. “Excuse my brother for forgetting his manners. Some people think he was raised in a barn, but he really wasn’t. Hi. I’m Janey. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You, too,” Angel replied, liking her immediately. “That’s my daughter, Emma, draped all over Joe. All this excitement was too much for her.”
“Her nanny was going to take her home in my truck,” Joe said, “but Angel and I were thinking about staying for the dance and wouldn’t have a way to get home. Unless you lend us your car and ride back to the house with Mom.”
He didn’t exactly ask permission, but Janey wouldn’t have cared if he’d outright demanded she loan him her car. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen this much life in his eyes, and she didn’t have to ask who had put it there. Angel Wiley. If Janey hadn’t thought she might be overstepping the line, she would have hugged her for it. After all that Belinda had put him through, Joe deserved a little happiness.
Reaching into her purse, she drew out her keys and handed them to him with a grin. “Enjoy
.”
Chapter 8
The band was live, the music country-western, the dance of choice the two-step. And the minute the single young studs of the country realized America’s sweetheart was there and actually going to dance, they slicked back their hair, adjusted their cowboy hats, and made a beeline straight for Angel.
Not surprised, she’d half expected to be rushed and was ready for the stampede. Smiling sweetly, she held up a hand, stopping the crowd of wanna-be suitors before they could crush her in their haste to be the first to reach her. “Sorry to disappoint you, boys, but my dance card is full for the evening.”
“Aw, c’mon, Ms. Wiley, that’s not fair! I saw you first.”
“Did not. You were flirting with Mary Ann Jenkins when I told you she was here.”
“Forget them, Angel Eyes. Just one turn around the floor—that’s all I want, then I can die happy.”
The latter came from a short, fresh-faced boy who couldn’t have been sixteen if he was a day. Grinning cockily, he winked at her behind the lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses, and Angel almost burst out laughing. But he was a cute kid and she wouldn’t have hurt his feelings for the world.
“That’s so sweet,” she told him, “but I’m afraid that’s impossible. I’ve already promised Mr. McBride every dance. Of course, if you’d like to take it up with him…”
Letting the suggestion hang in the air, she saw all male eyes shift warily to Joe and had to struggle not to grin. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know that he stood protectively behind her with his arms crossed over his chest and a hard look in his flinty eyes that would have had the devil himself backing up a step or two.
To their credit, her suitors didn’t run for cover, but more than a few of them visibly paled. The young man who’d called her Angel Eyes, however, was far from intimidated. Sniffing at her choice in dance partners, he grumbled, “Heck, we’re not going to argue with some old guy. Twice around the floor and he’ll run out of gas. Then it’s our turn. C’mon, guys, let’s go find a place to wait so we can carry him off the floor when he keels over.”
“Hey, who you calling old?!” Joe called after them when they turned en masse and walked away. “I was dancing before you pip-squeaks were born!”
Her eyes sparkling, Angel grinned. “I think you just made their point. Maybe you should have had Janey take your blood pressure when you had the chance. I don’t want you stroking out on me, grandpa.”
“Grandpa? I’ll show you grandpa,” he growled teasingly, and grabbed her just as the band swung into the latest country swing number to hit the top of the charts.
He didn’t give her time to think, to catch her breath, to do anything but laugh and fall into step. If he’d thought he was the only one who knew swing, she quickly showed him that he was wrong. Her face alight with fun, she let him swing her away from him, twirl her and draw her around his back without ever missing a step.
All around them, people stopped to watch and clap in time to the infectious beat of the music, but she never noticed. There was just Joe, his eyes locked with hers, his hand steady and strong around hers and always there to draw her inexorably back to him before twirling her away again. Breathless, her heart pounding and head light, she loved it.
Later, she couldn’t have said if the song lasted only minutes or a lifetime. She just knew that she never wanted it to end. It had to, of course, and with a final triumphant blast of the band’s horns, she found herself back in Joe’s arms, so close her breasts brushed his chest. Startled, her eyes locked with his. Clapping wildly, the crowd shouted its approval but she couldn’t hear for the roar of her blood in her veins. An inch, she thought dizzily. All she had to do was lift her chin a mere inch, and his mouth would be on hers.
She wanted to, needed to, ached to with every fiber of her being, but the band shifted gears then and slipped into a slow, dreamy number that turned the night air romantic. Without a word, Joe cradled her close and guided her into a graceful two-step that was as natural as breathing. With a sigh, she melted against him and let him lead her where he would.
Just that easy, the night turned magical. There was no yesterday or tomorrow, no past or future, just precious moments stolen out of time and theirs for the taking. Up above, the stars shone brightly in a velvet summer sky, but they had eyes only for each other as one song gave way to another, then another and they danced the night away.
Unable to stop smiling, Angel felt like she was sixteen again, out on a date for the first time in her life, and dancing on air. Intoxicated, she never wanted it to end. The band, however, needed a break, and when they stopped for a thirty-minute intermission, she had no choice but to step out of his arms.
She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d wanted to go home then—it was going on eleven, and work on a ranch started early—but when she automatically turned toward the parking lot with some of the other dancers who had decided to call it a night, he reached for her hand.
“Not so fast, young lady,” he murmured roughly, one corner of his mouth crooked in a smile. “I may be an old geezer, but the night’s young. Let’s go check out the carnival.”
Surprised, she lifted a delicately arched brow, her blue eyes alight with sudden interest. “Can we ride the Ferris wheel? It’s been years since I’ve ridden one.”
The last time he’d been on one he’d been in high school, and he hadn’t had anyone like Angel at his side. Instead, he’d been stuck with Tawny Carpenter, one of the school cheerleaders who’d only gone out with him to make Hank Sommers, her ex-boyfriend, jealous. It had worked. The second they got off the Ferris wheel, Hank was waiting for her, and Joe was happy to let her go.
“Joe? Where’d you go? I lost you.”
Blinking, he came back to the present to find her looking up at him with a quizzical smile. “Sorry. I was just thinking about high school—and Tawny Carpenter.”
He told her then about that night and expected her to laugh. Instead, she smiled in sympathy. “My Tawny Carpenter was Danny Kitchen. We were on the Ferris wheel when he saw Juliet Marshall in the crowd below us. I thought he was going to jump off just to get to her.”
“When he was out with you?” he said, shocked. “Was he an idiot or what?”
Laughter danced in her eyes. “I like to think he was.”
“Trust me, the man’s kicking himself today. He had his chance and he blew it. I’m not that stupid. C’mon,” he coaxed. “There’s a Ferris wheel calling our name.”
Her hand safely tucked in his, he headed for the open field at the end of Main Street where the bright lights of the carnival beckoned in the night.
When it came time to take their seat in the swinging gondola of the Ferris wheel that the attendant held steady for her and Joe, Angel realized that a lot had changed since she was sixteen. She was older and wiser now and a mother with the responsibility of a young child. And the Ferris wheel that had once appeared as sturdy as the Eiffel Tower to her adolescent eyes now looked like something that had been constructed from an erector set. With only a thin safety bar to keep them in their seats, disaster was only a slip away.
“I don’t know about this,” she said, hesitating. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.”
Surprised, John laughed. “Is this the same woman who does all her own stunts?”
“That’s different. They’re on the ground.”
“Scaredy cat,” he teased. “Haven’t you ever heard that life begins at the edge of your comfort zone?” When she just gave him a baleful look, he laughed. “All right, if it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll go first.”
Stepping into the gondola, he held out his hand to her, his eyes sure and steady as they met hers. “Do you really think I’d take you on anything that wasn’t safe?”
She didn’t even have to think about that. “No, of course not.”
“Then what are you waiting for? You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Put that way, she couldn’t summon up
a single argument. He was asking for her trust, and he already had it. Without a word, she put her hand in his and sank down onto the seat next to him.
An instant later, the safety bar snapped into place, the attendant hit the switch to start the big wheel turning, and suddenly, the world fell away beneath their feet to the beat of a happy calliope song. With a startled yelp, Angel clutched frantically for the safety bar and latched onto it with both hands.
Beside her, Joe laughed and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “This’ll be a lot more fun if you relax and sit back and look at the stars. Look!” he said, pointing suddenly to the night sky to their left. “There’s a shooting star! Make a wish.”
“Trust me, I am. Star light, star bright, let me get off this thing in one piece. Why did I ever think this was fun?” she gasped as the wheel stopped at the top and the sudden cessation of movement made their gondola rock wildly.
Amused, Joe lifted his hand to play with her hair. “If you’d just relax…”
“I’m trying!”
“Then let’s try it this way,” he murmured. Leaning over, he pressed a gentle kiss to the sensitive side of her neck, just below her ear, and sent a shiver dancing over her soft skin.
Startled, Angel’s eyes flew to his. “Joe—”
“See, that wasn’t so difficult,” he teased huskily. “You just needed a distraction. Let’s try it again.”
She should have objected. She was literally up in the air, her head in the clouds and her senses still humming from dancing one dance after another with him just moments ago. But he only had to touch her to make her melt, kiss her to turn her brain to mush. With a nearly silent groan, his mouth covered hers, and sanity slipped away.
Lost in the sweetness of the moment, the stars overhead could have fallen right out of the night sky, and Angel would have never noticed. Holding her as if she was made of spun sugar, he kissed her lightly, sweetly, nibbling at her bottom lip, stroking it with his tongue, teasing her until she gasped softly and clung to him, her mouth blindly seeking his, demanding more.