Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3

by Azure Boone

  And she was about to have lunch with him.

  Lucian turned like he'd sensed her hungry stare. The full impact of his appearance hit her. Worn jeans rode low on narrow hips and clung to heavily muscled thighs. A black bomber jacket shrouded broad shoulders and hung open to frame a tightly stretched T-shirt covering a ripped chest and flat abs. But the real heart stopper was that tattoo she saw peeking above the neckline of his shirt. She was dying to know what it was. More like dying to see it without the obstruction of his darn shirt.

  Jessie gulped when the Greek god with bright green eyes and glowing golden skin smiled at her. Made her want to look behind her. How could that smile be meant for her? And his eyes, good heavens, his eyes, framed by ebony lashes, never once dropped to her breasts.

  Gay.

  Her heart sank. Okay, she really needed to quit forgetting that. He made it easy when he looked at her that way. Almost like he liked her. Didn't they say gay guys make the best friends? She'd just be grateful for that much.

  He pushed off the wall with languid grace, resembling a big predator stretching in the sun. "Ready?"

  Jessie hoped her smile wasn't too beamy. "Absolutely." The next several moments were filled with trying to keep her heart inside her ribcage while his warm palm rested at the small of her back, gentle pressure guiding her to his car and into the passenger seat.

  Lucian insisted on paying for lunch, another shocker for Jessie. When was the last time a guy paid her way? She realized the sad answer to that was never. Even with the boobs, no guy had wanted her enough to spring for a burger and soda.

  "So, what do you do?" Jessie carefully swallowed the final bite of her hamburger, grateful for no embarrassing food mishaps.

  He shrugged a shoulder and adjusted his hips in the seat. Leather creaked, causing Jessie's gaze to hone in on the movement. Oh my God. She jerked her eyes back to his Greek god face, trying to forget the size of his bulge. Wow. He flashed her the most timid look then. "It's…not really anything to talk about."

  "Oh. Come on, try me." She put her elbow on the door's armrest. "Can't be that bad. I start IVs and insert catheters for a living. Compared to that, nothing is unmentionable."

  He grinned a little. "Don't laugh but...I work at the library."

  Oh wow. "The library, no, that's a cool place to work. You had me thinking you were an undertaker or cleaned septic tanks or something. You like it?"

  The grin came again, much more relaxed. "Oh man, I love it. Love the smell of books. Love books period."

  Jessie turned in her seat a little, more curious than ever. "Really! Like what? I love romance, particularly paranormal and contemporary. Course, I'm a girl." No shit Sherlock. She allowed herself a little smile at the secret profanity.

  "I love all books, all genres, really. I'll read anything. Well, almost. I've found a few that were just so badly written I couldn't follow them."

  "But surely you have a favorite something?" Jessie held her breath, conscious of the trust he placed in her by sharing something so important to him. At least that's how she chose to regard it.

  He flashed her another it's embarrassing grin. "I like the classics the most. Right off the top of my head?" He squinted one eye. "Edwin A. Abbott, John Quincy Adams, Aesop, Sherwood Anderson, R. D. Blackmore, William Blake, G. K. Chesterton—"

  Jessie gasped a laugh. "Okay, wow. I barely recognize a single one of those and something tells me the list continues?"

  He grinned full out, showing that dimple. "Yeah, I'm afraid it does. Goes on and on."

  Jessie watched him, liking him. Liking when he looked at her. Mostly she looked, because he was so nice to stare at. The only imperfection in the whole image was the network of pale, fine scars that criss-crossed his forearms. They had the distinctive look of self-harm scars and none were fresh, so apparently he'd dealt with whatever made him need that outlet. Despite overwhelming curiosity, she forced herself not to ask. If he wanted her to know, he'd tell her. "You know, don't get mad, but I'm kinda glad you're gay. Makes it much easier to talk to you."

  He gave a hesitant chuckle. "About that…"

  "Yeah, about that. I'm pretty bad about running my mouth, as you well know." She sighed.

  "Nah."

  "Oh please." She straightened in her seat and slurped at her drink. "Calling you beautiful and gay, I mean who does that?"

  He chuckled. "It was a first for me."

  "Ha." She angled a look at him. "You mean strangers don't tell you that every day? Now there's a surprise. Don't worry, gay is fine."

  "And beautiful?" Laughter made his voice even richer and enhanced his accent.

  She barked a laugh. "Um. Yeah. Beautiful is definitely fine. You're fine. Oh crap, as in…okay fine. Not that you're not…oh good grief, my mouth is worse than the energizer bunny."

  Lucian's heart-stopping laughter shut her jabber jaws.

  She gawked shamelessly at him. "Okay, wow, add beautiful laugh to that."

  He looked at her fully, seeming entirely perplexed with her. "You say…the most—"

  "Stupid things, I know."

  "No, actually, the most interesting. Incredible." He looked down and shook his cup, rattling the ice.

  It was as though he'd shot sunshine directly into her veins. She'd never received such an amazing compliment. Seemed like a compliment anyway. The sexy tilt of his lips said he liked it at least. Dang good enough for her.

  "What else do you like to do Mr. Lucian?"

  He slid strong, capable looking hands over the steering wheel and took a deep breath. "When I'm not reading, and often while I am, I'm working out. Or working, of course." He glanced at her. "And you? What do you like to do…Miss Jessie?"

  Her heart went all twittery at the sound of her name wrapped in his accent. Sounded almost Spanish. "I read romance novels, do crossword puzzles. I like to jog." Spoken aloud, her life sounded as pitiful as it was. "Though I…mostly do the jogging thing in my mind."

  A heartbeat later, he laughed outright.

  "What?" Jessie found herself smiling again, liking the deep melody of his voice. Clear and strong, yet silky. The kind of voice you wanted to hear turned down low, right in your ear.

  "I just know what you mean. I remember a time when working out took place mostly in my head, in my grand plans of fitness. Once I started though, it became addictive." He grinned. "Now, if I don't work out twice a day, I feel like I've missed church."

  "Ha. Thank God it's not that important to me." In the relaxing gay atmosphere, she felt safe explaining why exercise could be such a problem for her. She brought her upper arms in close, lifting her chest. "The girls make it a little uncomfortable at times."

  "The girls?" Suddenly his brows shot up. "Oh."

  "Sorry." She laughed. "You don't seem effeminate or anything, so if I don't remind myself you're gay, I'll get all nervous again."

  He laughed again, a glorious melody that filled the car. "I definitely don't want you to feel nervous." He took another drink of his soda.

  "No. Me nervous isn't a great thing."

  A throat clearing silence ensued.

  "You said you read romance novels?"

  Uh oh. "Yeah. Not the smartest branch of literature, I know. But I enjoy getting a little glimpse of other people's hearts, even if they are fictional."

  "I wouldn't say that, every genre has its place, but, changing the subject…can I ask you a personal question?"

  Double uh-oh. Hope he didn't need romance advice. She only had book experience, really. "Sure."

  "Why are you with that dude at the hospital?"

  Okay, not what she expected. "Um. I don't think I…quite understand the question."

  "Sorry." He looked out his window for a breath then swung his head her way, brows drawn, eyes lowered. "All I can say is…you're too good for him."

  Jessie's heart was already racing, but his words sent it careening off the rails and shattering into a million warm pieces in her
blood stream. Light giddy laughter was the only language for it and out of her mouth it poured. "Why would you think that?"

  His brows furrowed a little. "Didn't you notice…what a dick he is?"

  Jessie stopped laughing, touched and thrilled, and not sure why. "Um…well…there are moments…days even, that I want to smack him."

  His green gaze was fully trained on her now. "Smack? You're too kind. I wanted to drop kick him the second he opened his mouth to you."

  Jessie fought not to laugh hysterically which only created a deranged sound. But doggone, what a happy pill this guy was. "He isn't all that bad." Jessie rubbed her palm along her leg.

  "Yes. He is."

  She met his gaze at hearing how serious he was. Factual serious. Premonition serious. "Well, I'm not really that into him. We just…flirt really."

  Lucian made a derisive sound that said he knew more than she was aware.

  "Are you holding out on me? Lucian?"

  He sighed and stroked the steering wheel while gazing out his window. "I know he's a prick. I know he's not into you like he should be. I know…well, I think you deserve much better. Not to mention you're far too beautiful for him."

  Jessie's heart pieces raced back into her chest to contract painfully at the never-in-her-life compliment. What to do with that? He's gay, he's gay, he's gay, she reminded herself.

  Why did he have to be gay? "Well!" She couldn't contain a choked laugh. "That's a first. I've never had anyone…" She nodded and shrugged, clearing the emotion from her voice. "That's a…first." Stupid to get all gooey over one compliment. She suddenly felt awkward in the silence. Lucian's gaze on her still bore near-physical weight. She was afraid to look. She didn't want his pity. Or his condescension. She scrambled mentally for something else to talk about. "So. What…what do you have in mind for your brother? I mean…for long term care?"

  Lucian gave a deep yeah, that sigh and rubbed one hand through his hair, leaving the jet black silk lying in tousled waves.

  Jessie released a breath she hadn't noticed she'd held. She hated to bring that up, but risked it to change the subject from her pathetic love life and how immune she'd become to living in Loserville as Miss Lesser Than.

  "I have no clue. I suppose I'll take care of him until I can figure that out. I don't know what else I can do."

  "You…know how? I mean it's not hard but…"

  He choked a bitter laugh. "Of course I don't. I'm utterly clueless. I never imagined having to deal with anything like this."

  The heavy hopelessness in Lucian's tone compelled Jessie to rescue him. "I can help you, don't worry. It's not like I have a life outside my job anyway."

  There was a moment of silence. "Why is that?"

  Jessie looked at him and tried not to become lost in his forest gaze. "I'm just…not that social." Cause I'm a klutz and get tired of the rejection. "Prefer solitude." Jessie smiled through the lie to keep from crying, then bit her lower lip when his eyes seemed to lower to her mouth.

  He reached and stroked her jaw and she flinched under the soft touch, her body coming alive.

  "It still hurts?" He drew his hand away and lifted his intent green gaze to hers.

  "Oh! No, no, it's all better." She reached up and felt the tender spot on her jaw that wasn't all better. Why did she have to pretend everything was perfect?

  "Good."

  Her heart plummeted into her stomach at the tenderness in his voice. She rolled her window down. "Such a beautiful day, isn't it? You know, I could come by your place and help you plan for your brother's stay. Like what you need and how and where to get everything. Or not, I mean, there's services you can call that are more than cap—"

  "No, please, I'd love that. For you to help me. Since…we're already acquainted I mean, and you're friends with Leo."

  Jessie smiled into her lap. "Yeah, exactly what I was thinking."

  "When can you come?"

  She opened the lid to her drink and filled her mouth with the crushed ice, hoping to douse the fire raging through her. "Anytime. Well, I work days right now, so…" She chewed loudly. "…any evening is fine with me."

  "How's tonight sound?"

  Jessie fought to hide the combustible excitement roiling through her. "Tonight?"

  "That's too soon, I'm sure," Lucian mumbled.

  She tried to figure out how to keep her elation out of her voice, and probably didn't succeed even a little. "No, not at all. Tonight is fine. Tonight is great. Perfect."

  "I'll do my best to get your car back to you today by the way."

  "Oh yeah, that's right. No car."

  "I'll have them drop it off at the hospital. And maybe you can follow me."

  "Oh, you can just give me the address, I'll find it."

  "Well, I kind of…I planned to visit my brother anyway, so…"

  "Oh, duh, of course." Jessie's face flamed at thinking he was making a trip especially for her. Followed by stroke inducing heart palpitations. Had she just agreed to go to the home of a man whose brother had tried to rape her? Alone? She chewed her lower lip.

  She could take Sally maybe. The scenario that bloomed in her mind brought out the invincible Wonder Woman in her. She could handle Lucian. Lucian the Librarian. Lucian the gay Librarian. Easy. Definitely no Sally necessary.

  Sally Hutchinson sat staring at the stark white envelope laying before her on the black walnut dining room table. The course of the rest of her life awaited within that bit of paper. Her neighbor brought it over today. Somehow it'd gotten in her box. But God had seen to it that she'd received it in time. It was another miracle.

  When she'd first promised to dedicate her life to serving God as a nun in return for suffering no consequences after causing a minor traffic accident while driving drunk, she seriously hadn't thought God would actually answer her prayer. But the elderly man behind the wheel of the other car took all responsibility, and the deputy sheriff that responded didn't even ask if Sally'd been drinking. That had been miracle number one. And two weeks later, when she had that dream of her dressed in nun clothing, she took it as a reminder. A calling. And if the peace and serenity she'd felt in the dream would drown out the nightmares of her childhood, she was so ready to take the vow. It would be worth it.

  And now that moment was here, and she was about to find out if and when she might be allowed to profess the Benedictine vow as a Postulant to the Abbey at the Meadow of The Virgin Visitations. She'd live at the Abbey with the cloistered nuns for a while and think about whether becoming a Novitiate, or novice nun was the right choice for her.

  But then, for some reason, women with various titles had refused her entry to any other convent west of the Rocky Mountains. Did they think she would move in and corrupt the nuns? Her last rejection came at an interview, and as she left that convent, an elderly nun called her aside and gave her a phone number, saying the Sisters there might help her if she were really determined. The old Sister limped out of sight in the morning mist still hanging over the vegetable garden after warning Sally to silence. Miracle number two. A series of phone calls, letters, and forms led up to Sally sitting there staring at an envelope, too chickenshit to open it.

  Enough screwing around. She took a deep breath and held it, then picked the envelope up. Eyes closed, she worked the flap loose and slid a sheet of paper out. She took another deep breath and forced her eyes open before unfolding her future. The heavy paper – handmade? – bore a spidery handwritten script that looked like something from one of the journals she'd recently read, the writings of a nun dead over a hundred years.

  Miss Hutchinson,

  I would like to join the Abbess and the other Sisters in welcoming you to the convent. This will be a period of quiet reflection and spiritual renewal for you, a time to ensure this is really God's intention for you. As with all our candidates, we have prepared a Plan of Study to help you ready yourself for your decision.

  Please make any preparations you find necessary
for a long-term absence, and be ready to leave your home on 25th of January. Enclosed is a list of items you are permitted to bring along. Be aware that we are a very simple cloister and technology is prohibited. Note that the only clothing on the list is undergarments of a specific type. Do not vary from those instructions. Adequate outer garments will be supplied. Please make your loved ones aware that communication with you will be sparse and handwritten.

  Sister Mary Evangela will come to your home to collect you on the appointed day. Please be ready before 9 a.m.

  Sister Agnes Rose

  Sally tried to calm her pounding heart. She'd been accepted! Adrenaline inspired her to leap up and do a little dance. Mid-celebration, her gaze landed on the elaborate calendar Jessie hung on the kitchen door, exactly where Aunt May had kept it. .

  Two days to get ready! Fuck! No, fudge. She had to stop slipping with those words. She grabbed the letter, and ran for her room to start packing, skimming the list along the way. Halfway down the hall, she skidded to a stop, the hand woven runner sliding under her feet and threatening to dump her on her ass. Butt.

  Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her… She traced along the list with her finger. There it was. Brassieres – 2 – white cotton, absent of decoration, underwires, padding, or other augmentation; Panties – 4 pair – white cotton brief, absent of decoration or adornment; Socks - … The list went on to describe 2 pairs of white cotton socks and 2 pairs of black wool, and a white cotton flannel nightgown. There was more white cotton and black wool than Sally had ever seen in one place. Even the style of the black leather shoes was spelled out.

  But she could deal with all that. It was the last part of the list that made her seriously question her sanity. One dozen new cotton baby diapers, flat-fold Birdseye – you will use these to construct your own sanitary pads – disposable pads and tampons are prohibited.

  Holy. Cow. No tampons? How in the world? Well, presumably women had managed the issue before disposables. Right? A little time online might explain exactly how.