Satisfaction: The Collection

by Tori Scott

  "I hope so, sweetie. The last thing I want to do is cause you more pain. But the week up there will be magical. It's going to be so much fun."

  Fun was something almost foreign to Angel. She felt like she didn't deserve to have any, avoided circumstances where she might actually have fun. That was supposed to be one of the things they addressed on Friday. How she could stop punishing herself for something she really hadn't been able to control in the first place. How to deal with the shame she felt, when there was nothing to be ashamed of. She'd done what was best for her child.

  "You know what? Maybe I will go bowling with y'all after all, if that's okay. My appointment is over at five."

  "That would be great. We aren't going until six, anyway. But Angel, I have to tell you. Mitch is coming, too."

  Mitch. Could she do it? She hadn't seen him since she started therapy. And it wasn't Mitch who was the real problem. He looked too much like Eric, and she still held a lot of resentment toward Eric and his parents. They'd said some pretty ugly things back then, had threatened to ruin her reputation if she tried to press the paternity issue. But like Dr. Dean said, people tend to get very emotional in circumstances like that and say things they don't mean and wouldn't normally say.

  It was possible they'd all grown up since then. And Mitch wasn't Eric. That's one thing she had managed to come to terms with over the last month. "Well, I can't promise how long I'll stay, but I will try. I need to confront this head on, so I might as well get started."

  "You sure?" Cara held her breath, praying Angel wouldn't change her mind.

  "Absolutely."

  "How about we make a day of it? Go to lunch, shop for shoes, you can go to your appointment, then we'll go bowling. Might make it easier if you ease into it."

  "That sounds like fun. Reggie too? I really like her. In fact, I like all of your friends. And you--you're pretty okay for a kid sister."

  ***

  Angel tried on yet another pair of shoes, this one a sling-back sandal. "You know what the problem is with these shoes?"

  "What?" Cara winced when she stood in the impossibly high heel she'd just tried on. "The fact that they all kill your feet in two seconds flat?"

  "Well, there is that. But think about it. We're going to be outside. Even though there will be a carpet runner so we won't be standing in the snow, we're going to get frost bite in these things. What we need are some funky white boots with fur trim to match the jackets."

  Cara grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face her. "You, big sister, are a genius! That would be perfect. Okay, let's spread out and see what we can find."

  Reggie found them first. Ankle high, with three inch heels and white fur around the top. They would be perfect with the dresses. Angel found matching gloves and ear muffs in the next department.

  "That's it, right? We're all set?" Angel checked her watch, but she had plenty of time before her appointment.

  "Not quite. There's one more thing, Follow me." Cara headed toward the front of the store and Reggie and Angel fell in behind her.

  "Any idea what this is about?" Angel whispered to Reggie?

  Reggie shrugged. "I have no clue."

  Cara stopped at the jewelry department. "This next item is a gift from Gray. We are looking for the perfect set of pearls, ladies. Every woman needs a quality pearl necklace."

  Finding the right one proved to be the easiest of their purchases and they were soon set with three matching necklaces.

  "Now we're finished," Cara declared. "And I'm starving. This time there will be no Mitch to spoil our lunch, either."

  Angel was almost disappointed. One thing therapy had done for her was to teach her how to direct her emotions where they belonged. Mitch had done nothing to deserve the treatment he'd gotten from her. He was Eric's brother, and to her he'd been guilty by association. But he'd been nothing but kind to her and had been willing to give up his scholarship and a promising future to save her from her own mistakes.

  She owed him a big apology.

  She didn't know if she could ever forgive his parents or Eric for the part they'd played in ruining her life, but she was learning that she was also partly responsible for letting them get away with it. Instead of running from conflict, she had to learn to stand up for herself and for what she wanted. She had to be willing to say what needed to be said, and willing to take the consequences when she did.

  She'd known therapy would be difficult when she started, but she'd had no idea how many conflicting emotions would surface and how hard she would have to work to deal with them. And the most conflicted of all were her feelings for Mitch.

  She wasn't sure she'd ever get it right.

  ***

  Mitch hesitated at the entrance to the bowling alley. This was probably a mistake. When he found out Angel would be there tonight, he'd almost backed out. But he wanted to see what kind of progress she'd made over the past month, wanted to see if the therapy was helping her. That was his excuse, anyway. Mostly, he just wanted to see her.

  He took a deep breath and opened the door. The first thing he saw was Angel, bent over the ball rack, testing the balls for fit. She wore tight fitting jeans that emphasized the smooth lines of her hip. His mouth went dry and his body hardened. Oh boy, he was in trouble now.

  All his intentions to put distance between himself and Angel flew right out the door. All he could think about at that moment, with his body hard and aching, was to get as close to her as a man could get to a woman. Skin to skin, covering her body with his, and settling himself deep inside.

  Mitch stepped back and let the door close. He needed a minute to get himself under control before he went back inside. He reached for a cigarette before he remembered he'd given them up several years earlier, while still in medical school. Damn. Even though he knew how bad they were for his body, there were times he really missed them. So he fell back on one of the tricks he'd used to quit--he took a walk. Across the parking lot, down the sidewalk, breathing in the cool night air as he picked up the pace. Once around the block and he felt himself calming, the ache in his groin easing.

  There was no cure for the ache in his soul.

  This time when he opened the door, he marched through it, scanning the room quickly to locate Gray and Cara, deliberately skimming past Angel who was bent over tying her shoes. At least this time that shapely butt was firmly planted on the plastic bench seat. If only her breasts weren't in danger of spilling over the top of her loose-fitting sweater, he might have a chance of pretending she didn't affect him.

  When she looked up and smiled at him--a genuine, wide-open smile--it took his breath away. It lit up her face and those beautiful tawny eyes, and made her more than just beautiful. Stunning. He'd never thought about the meaning of that word when it came to looks before, but at this moment he'd define it as feeling like he'd been hit with a two by four. Paralyzed but still breathing. Knocked on his ass, but still standing.

  He smiled back and a blush bloomed across her cheeks. She quickly ducked her head and finished tying her shoes.

  Oh boy. He was in so much trouble now.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Angel held her breath, waiting for the panic attack. Had she really smiled at him like that? The last thing she needed was to encourage him. Even though she'd worked through a lot of old emotions in therapy, the fact remained that Mitch was Eric's brother. A relationship with him could not, would not, work because seeing Mitch would mean that at some point she'd have to see Eric, and his parents.

  While she might be able to handle seeing them at the wedding, seeing them in a more personal setting was an entirely different matter. The resentment she felt went deep. Very deep. She'd spent the last sixteen years imagining what she would say or do if she ran into any of the Turner family, and every imaginary meeting ended with her screaming at them, blaming them. Much as she was beginning to like and admire Mitch, the fact remained that he was a Turner. A Hatfield to her McCoy. A Montague to her Capulet.

  The enemy.


  But the panic attack didn't materialize, and she just couldn't fit him into the enemy slot in her heart.

  She was so screwed.

  She couldn't let him know her feelings for him had changed, because he would take advantage of any sign of weakness on her part. Mitch, when he wasn't trying, was incredibly charming. When he was trying, he was devastating. She'd been the object of his attempts to win her over too many times.

  She could blame the blush on having her head down to deal with the shoes. The racing heart she could blame on a panic attack. But how in the hell was she supposed to explain away the hard, pebbled nipples pressing against her sweater? Out of desperation, she grabbed a bowling ball and held it up at chest level as though testing the weight and feel of it. At least it hid her aching breasts.

  "Is it okay if I go first?" she asked of no one in particular. She didn't wait for an answer, turning her back on Mitch to face the pins at the end of the lane. She took a couple of deep breaths before carefully making her approach. She concentrated on the sweep of her arm and the glide of her feet, the follow through as she released the ball. The pins wobbled and fell, leaving two in the middle. Not bad, considering how badly her hands were shaking.

  She stood by the ball return, her back still to the others, until the ball popped up and she took her second turn. She picked up an easy spare, and by the time she turned back to the group, her body had cooled and her sweater lay smoothly, with no telltale bumps. She breathed a sigh of relief. Now she only had to make sure it didn't happen again.

  Once everyone had taken a turn and the competition was on, she felt more in control. The good natured bantering and wagering on the outcome lightened her mood and took some of the focus off of her reaction to Mitch. She'd forgotten how much fun a night out with friends could be. Though they were technically Cara's friends and not hers, they made her feel a part of the group--a welcome part.

  Cara was so lucky to have friends like these.

  "Hey, Gray! Watch this." Reggie lined up her shot, taking down all ten pins with a loud clatter.

  Gray groaned and shook his head. "Sam, can't you control her? Doesn't she know a woman isn't supposed to show a man up like that?"

  Sam just shrugged and caught Reggie when she launched herself into his arms.

  "Damn, that felt good!" Reggie said, kissing Sam on the lips with a loud smack. "Let a man win? Ha! Have I ever?"

  "Not as long as I've known you," Sam replied with a grin. "Not even in third grade. Might as well pay up, Gray. She's out for blood."

  Gray pulled out his wallet and handed Reggie a ten dollar bill. When she started to tuck it into her jeans pocket, he said, "Better wait before you put that away. I'm up next."

  Sure enough, he bowled a strike and Reggie handed him the ten back with an exaggerated pout. "Lucky shot."

  "Yeah, you wish." Gray looped an arm around Cara's shoulders. "Tell her. I'm the best bowler in the group."

  Cara shook her head. "Don't put me in the middle in this. I love you both and I'm not taking sides."

  Mitch watched the byplay, a smile twitching the corner of his mouth. He glanced at Angel and their gazes locked.

  She licked her suddenly dry lips and his eyes focused on her mouth. The smile faded and his eyebrows drew together. What was he thinking? Did he think she was sending some kind of come on signal? Or was he thinking about kissing her? For the first time, she hoped it was the latter.

  Oh, damn. She had to stop these crazy thoughts. This was Mitch, the one man who was off limits to her forever.

  ***

  The streets of Austin’s downtown district sparkled with Christmas lights. Angel arranged Cara’s dress to spread out behind her on the steps of the gazebo, made sure every detail was perfect from her hair to the toes of her boots, then double checked her lights and exposure. This shoot had to be perfect. Better than perfect. She’d have to look at the results for the rest of her life.

  Reggie stood off to the side, watching, with a wistful expression on her face. Hopefully next year Angel would shoot her bridal portraits, too. Now that would be a coup. It might even open doors to the society weddings she’d only dreamed of doing up to this point.

  Things were definitely looking up.

  Which gave her another idea for a pose. She had Cara look up at the sky, as though wishing upon a star. The pensive look was a natural and would make a great bridal portrait, with the fairy lights of the gazebo lighting her face. Her sister was going to make a beautiful bride.

  "Are we done yet?" Cara whimpered. "My feet are killing me."

  "Just one more. Reggie, why don’t you join her for an impromptu shot?"

  "You should be in it," Reggie said as she made her way to Cara’s side. "You’re a bridesmaid, too."

  Angel shook her head. "It’s okay. This is a friends picture."

  Behind her, Mitch stepped out of the shadows. "You should be in it. You’re her sister. Can you set everything the way you want it and show me which button to push?"

  Angel nearly jumped out of her skin. "You scared the cr--uh, the daylights--out of me. How did you know we were here?"

  His teeth flashed white in the near darkness. "Gray told me. Now, set that thing and scoot over there with the others."

  She did as he requested, double checking everything before she showed him where to press to take the shot. Then she joined Reggie and Cara at the gazebo.

  "First we’re going to do smiles," Mitch said. "One, two, smile!"

  The lights flashed and they all blinked. The lights flashed again before they had a chance to pose.

  "Hey, no fair. You didn’t say three." Angel put her hands on her hips and stuck her tongue out at Mitch and the lights flashed once more.

  "Okay, hot shot. That was your last chance." Before she could march down the steps, Cara threw an arm over her shoulder and the other arm around Reggie.

  With their heads close together, they smiled on cue and Angel knew that picture would be a keeper.

  "Okay. Thanks to Mitch, we’re done here. I just need you to come into the studio on Monday for some formal shots and we’ll be all done until the wedding."

  "I’ll be there. Don’t forget your clothes, too, because I want some pre-wedding shots of all of us in full regalia. We’ll have to find someone else to shoot the ones with you in them, though. Anyone you can ask?"

  "No need," Angel said. "I have a remote. We’ll be fine."

  Cara moved closer to whisper in her ear. "Want us to wait for you, or do you want Mitch to take you home?"

  "I don’t know," Angel whispered back. "I have no idea why he’s here."

  "Okay, we’ll hang around in the parking lot for a few minutes. If you want us to leave, just flash the light on your phone at us, okay?"

  "Okay." Angel started packing up her equipment as she watched Cara and Reggie walk away. She almost wished she could call them back. She was totally out of her depth with Mitch. She didn’t even know how to talk to him.

  "Can I help?" he asked, standing above her as she knelt beside her camera case.

  "Um, sure. Can you bring me the lights and that reflector over there?" She pointed toward the gazebo, then returned to securing her camera and lenses. As he walked away, she watched him from beneath her lashes. The man had a very nice rear view, she’d give him that. Tonight he wore soft, well-worn jeans that molded to his body, a long-sleeved turtleneck under a soft blue sweater, and supple leather boots covered his feet.

  He was one damned good-looking man, she thought as he turned back toward her. And the more time she spent with him, the less he looked like Eric. They had the same dark hair, the same dark eyes, but that’s where the resemblance ended. Eric had a weak chin, if she remembered correctly. She hadn’t seen him in years, but that one thing really stood out. Mitch’s chin and jaw were strong, well-formed. Or maybe it was the way he carried himself that made it seem so.

  Whatever, he looked like…Mitch. Not Eric. Not a Turner. Just Mitch.

  He returned with
the light stands and set them beside her. He glanced toward the parking lot. "Are they waiting for you?" he asked, inclining his head toward Cara’s car.

  "Yeah. They’re my ride home."

  He knelt beside her and started packing the lights into their cases. "I could take you home. If you want me to, that is. No sense in them waiting around for you."

  Angel rocked back on her heels so she could look at him. "Why?"

  Mitch shrugged. "Damned if I know. I swore I wasn’t going to have anything more to do with you. Then you started taking control of your life and, I don’t know, I like what I’m seeing. I’d like to spend a little time with you without the crowd. Like maybe dinner?"

  "Any strings attached to that invitation?"

  "Not a single one."

  "Carino’s?" For some reason, her appetite roared to life and her stomach growled.

  Mitch laughed. "Carino’s works for me, though from the sound of that rumble, we’d better hurry."

  "Deal. Go check the gazebo, make sure we got everything. I’ll be packed in a jiff." As soon as he walked away, she flashed her cell phone twice in the direction of Cara’s car and the engine roared to life. They waited another minute or two before they drove away, and Angel prayed she hadn’t just made the second biggest mistake of her life.

  ***

  "So there I was, standing outside the dorm wearing nothing but boxers, and my frat brothers were hanging out the windows, laughing hysterically and taking pictures. And who should walk by but the Dean of the medical school. I thought my education was finished right then." Mitch dipped a piece of crusty bread into the plate of oil and took a bite.

  "Seriously? I thought hazing had been outlawed. That was so mean of them." Angel propped her chin on her hand and watched him chew the bread, her gaze following the long line of his throat as he swallowed. Who knew a throat could be sexy?

  "Nah," he said. "They were just having fun. I got most of them back at one time or another. So how about you? How did you end up doing photography?"

  As many times as she’d steered the conversation away from herself, he’d steered it right back. "I kind of fell into by accident. Mom was desperate to find a way to get me out of the house after everything happened. I was depressed and barely got dressed, much less outside. She found her father’s old 35mm and gave it to me, along with a couple of rolls of film. I let it sit on my dresser for a few weeks, until one day we had a freak snowstorm. Everything was so beautiful outside I couldn’t resist snapping some shots from my bedroom window. Then I saw a cardinal, brilliant red against the snow, and I took the camera outside for a better shot. The picture turned out so good I had it enlarged and framed and gave it to mom for Christmas. From that moment on, I was hooked."