Angel Series Books #1-2.5

by Tracy Lorraine

  “I’m meeting him tomorrow afternoon for a workout, then I’m going to Connie’s for a meal tomorrow night. She said she was cooking his favourite, so I guess he’ll be there.”

  I watch her think for a minute before she says, “Okay, perfect. That gives us enough time.”

  Oh God! “Enough time for what?” I ask with trepidation.

  “To go shopping and get you something kick arse to wear tomorrow night.”

  I put my hands up in defence, “No, no, no, I’ll just go in jeans and a t-shirt. It’s only a casual thing, I think, so it won’t matter.”

  “Yes, it bloody well matters. If you want him to notice you, then you’ve got to make an effort. I’m not suggesting you go dressed all formal, but a nice casual dress that shows off your best assets will not hurt.” As she says this, she waves her hands in front of my chest. Okay, yes, I can’t argue; she does have a point, and she is right. He was definitely checking out my boobs this morning.

  “Molly, I am not wearing this,” I shout through the curtain of the dressing room she has put me in with a wardrobe full of dresses. “I don’t even think tit tape would make it work!”

  “Show me,” she shouts back from her perch on the sofa outside.

  I feel like I’ve been cooped up in the little room for a week while Molly and the shop assistant pass dress after dress through the curtain to me. Molly has enjoyed every minute of telling the shop assistant, who looks no more than seventeen, all about my situation, as well as every minute of my complaining about this whole disaster that is dress shopping.

  “No, I feel like I’m totally exposed.”

  All of a sudden, the curtain is whipped back to reveal Molly, stood with her hands on her hips, looking at my very uncovered chest. I instantly move my hands up to cover them, but she growls at me and pulls them back to my sides.

  “Wow,” is all she says.

  She has me in a mostly back maxi dress that is covered in exotic, brightly coloured flowers. The fabric is a little bright for my usual choice of clothing, but it is really nice. The problem, however, is the top half. It has wide straps, but the neckline plunges right down to the little bow on my bra, showing off way too much boob in my opinion. Molly could wear this dress and look stunning, but I feel like I might as well be walking about topless.

  “Molly, I am not wearing this out in public. I feel like I’m too naked for even you to be looking at me.”

  “Emma, seriously, you are covered in fabric down to the floor. All you’ve got is a little bit of cleavage on show; it’s nothing. And let me tell you…Ruben will think he’s died and gone to heaven when he sees you in this,” she says with a wide smile and twinkling eyes. She is enjoying this way too much for my liking.

  “Holy cow,” the shop assistant says when she walks past. “That is definitely the winner. You look incredible.”

  “See,” Molly says with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s too much. All I’m doing is going to a friend’s house for dinner, not a bloody night out.”

  “Okay, how about we compromise,” she says, before disappearing.

  I look back at myself in the mirror, and can’t help but think that I do look like a completely different person to the one I did a few months ago. It’s like I’ve got life back in my eyes, and it’s clear to see in this figure-hugging dress how much weight I have actually lost. My saggy, wobbly bits are looking much tighter and smoother. Having to send Molly back out for smaller sizes didn’t hurt, either.

  I eventually caved on the dress when Molly reappeared a few minutes later with a black lace cami in hand. As she said, it covered me up enough to be less self-conscious, but to her delight, still showed off my tits. Great!

  That wasn’t the only thing I had to cave on before being able to escape the department store. When we left, my purse was almost four hundred pounds lighter, and I was weighed down with bags containing the dress and cami, along with new workout clothes, a couple of other summer dresses, a skirt and top. Apparently, this new development in my life needed celebrating with new, sexier clothing, according to Molly. What she doesn’t know is that most of this stuff I’ll be returning in the next few days. I do not need a whole new wardrobe just to impress a man. I am who I am, and you either like it or lump it.

  Well, that thought lasted all of a few hours. I was so nervous by the time the clock ticked round to an hour before meeting Ruben for our run that the added confidence that went with the new workout clothes Molly picked out actually made me feel that little bit better. So I’m waiting for a knock at the door in my new understated black leggings, with a black tank top that looks pretty plain - but turn around and the back is open and exposing my fire engine red sports bra that has some funky strapping across the back. And because it’s as supportive as possible to keep my boobs in place, it holds them tight and shows them off nicely just above the top of the low neckline. I would usually feel exposed in this, but after that dress earlier I almost feel like I’m covered top to toe. Plus, I only realise the back is open when I feel a draft, so I can mostly ignore that bit of skin.

  I take one last look in the mirror in my hallway before I answer the door to him, and I can’t but wonder what the hell is going on with me. I shrug it off when the door knocks again, and go to answer it.

  “Wow, you look good, Emma,” he says, while flashing me a genuine smile that makes a dimple pop up on his left cheek. My heart skips a beat when my eyes first land on him, but I soon snap out of it. I will not be one of those women; I’m not even sure I want to be the one that I’m acting like now, to be honest. I give him a once over before pulling the door shut behind me. He is once again wearing a skin tight white t-shirt, but this time his shorts are a little shorter, showing me thighs that are made of pure muscle. Holy hell, this guy is hot. I shake my head and follow him where he has jogged down my garden path.

  When I walk into Connie’s a while later, I find her and the blonde-haired guy I recognise from some of the photos in this place sat at her breakfast bar deep in conversation. I’m presuming from chatting to Ruben that this guy is Fin, his best friend. I also get the impression from the very few things that Connie has said about him that there could be some history between them, and looking at how close they’re sat chatting doesn’t alleviate any of my suspicion. I end up having to clear my throat to get their attention.

  “Oh, hey, Em. Wow, you look awesome,” Connie says quickly, backing away from Fin and coming over to give me a hug. “This is Fin, Ruben’s best mate. Fin, this is Emma, who I’ve been telling you about.”

  We say our hellos and Connie is just getting me a drink when the atmosphere in the room changes. I don’t need to look behind me to know he’s stood there. Not only did I hear his footsteps, but the hairs on the back of my neck have been standing on end for a few seconds. I watch Connie and Fin look back and forth between the two of us, but I’m frozen in position. No one says anything, and it is the most awkward few seconds of my life.

  After what feels like an eternity, Ruben’s rough voice finally breaks the silence, “Chuck us a beer, Con.” Although it does nothing for my statue-like body, because I feel his breath blow through my hair and onto my neck before he grabs a lock and runs his fingers through it while making a low growling noise in his throat. Everything goes back to being silent as he comes to stand in front of me, my hair still in his hand. His dark eyes quickly scan over my face before locking on to my boobs, exactly as Molly had planned. I watch him lick his lips and wait for him to say what he looks like he’s building up to.

  “Christ, babe,” is all he says before turning, taking the beer out of Connie’s hand and downing it in one. We all watch him with our mouths slightly hanging open. Now, I don’t know Ruben that well, but I’m guessing from Connie and Fin’s reaction that that wasn’t a normal thing for him to do.

  Ruben

  What the fuck was that? I’ve seen plenty of hot chicks before. Hell, I’ve done much more than look at them, but why does this one h
ave such an effect on me? Why the fuck could I not control any part of my body when I walked into the kitchen to see her dressed like that? Why the hell did I have to run my fingers through her hair like a complete pussy? And why couldn’t I just acknowledge her and say hello like any other normal human being?

  I’ve been sat on the sofa for two minutes with my second beer, after having downed the first one that Connie gave me in the hope it would sort me the fuck out. I mean, I knew she was stunning - that’s why I already can’t get her out of my head - but that dress. Fuck me, that dress. And that hair. Christ, I don’t know what to do with myself after seeing that. I rearrange myself in my jeans and run my sweaty palms down the denim on my thighs as Fin walks into the room and drops down on the sofa next to me.

  “Well, those photos Connie sent through didn’t really do her any justice, did they? She’s smoking hot. I bet she’s-”

  “Not interested,” I finish for him. There is no way I am sitting here and listening to him talk about banging her. Any other chick is fair game, but not her.

  “Ooooh, you’re a little touchy. Want her for yourself, do ya? I shouldn’t be surprised, she’s so your type. Maybe a little more average than your normal conquests, but hot all the same. And she looks so innocent, I bet she’s-” he tries again, but one look at the scowl on my face shuts him up.

  He puts his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, she’s all yours. Not my type, anyway,” he says, looking back towards the kitchen where both Emma and Connie are in our line of sight. Why do you think I chose this seat to sit in, after all?

  “How about we make this interesting,” he says, after being quiet for a few seconds too long, which means he’s scheming something up.

  “What?” I grumble, because he’s distracting me from watching her.

  “I bet you can’t get in her in your bed by the end of the month.” I raise my eyebrow at his suggestion, because I have no interest in this bullshit. “Okay, yeah, you’re right, she’s way too sweet. How about we say by your parents’ anniversary party at the end of June. That gives you almost a month to break her down. That is totally doable.”

  “Fuck off, Fin. We’re not eighteen any more. I’m not making stupid bets with you.”

  “Pussy. You’re just scared she’ll reject you and your small cock.”

  “Fuck off,” I growl again.

  “How about I sweeten you up with a reward. Other than her sweet, sweet pussy, of course.” I just look at him, seriously losing the will to live with this conversation. I have no intention of making Emma a bet. “I know that your mum has already agreed with Danni that you’ll take part in the fashion show this year. You weren’t here to defend yourself, so she said yes on your behalf. I have also seen what she is expecting you to wear, and it’s just too fucking funny, dude.”

  Danni is a girl that we both went to school with. Although a year younger, she did fashion at uni and now lectures at the college. Every year, they put on a charity fashion show to raise money for a local children’s charity. Every year, she asks Fin and I to get involved. And every year, we say no. There are many reasons for this. Firstly, I have no intention of being perved on, wearing next to nothing on a runway. I can’t think of anything more humiliating. But also because she is a Scott - Elliot Scott’s little sister. We have this long running rivalry, and I want nothing to do with anything that family does. Now, I mostly find this easy, unless he comes looking for trouble, but I find it harder where his sister is concerned. I hate to admit it, because when it first happened, my only motivation was to piss Elliot off, but I took her virginity when she was fifteen, and I have the scars to prove it. But since then, she has always been my go-to girl. I know I shouldn’t, but she makes it too easy. She wants the same from me as I do from her, and that is it. We never talk otherwise, and for both our sakes, we stay out of each other’s way.

  “I am not fucking doing that. She can fuck off.”

  “It’s done, dude, and it’s the weekend after your parents’ anniversary. Your mum has promised you’ll do it.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I know a way you can try to get out of it, though. You bang her,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “before the party - which you totally won’t be able to do; I mean, look at her, she has obviously been sent to tease you, not fuck you,” he says, laughing and taunting me. “Then I’ll do the fashion show for you. I might even get myself a taste of Danni, seeing as you’ve been keeping her to yourself all these years.”

  “Guys, dinner’s ready,” Connie shouts through.

  “Fuck’s sake. Right, fine,” I say to Fin, before getting up and joining the girls in the kitchen.

  The rest of that evening was pretty torturous for me. I had to listen to Fin tell the girls about my conquests in Australia. I’m guessing it was for Emma’s benefit. As much as he thinks she isn’t going to sleep with me, he’s going to make me look like the biggest dick on the planet to really put her off. During all this, I was sat opposite Emma, and trying not to spend the whole night staring at her rack. It was a serious fucking challenge. When Fin’s stories got even more exaggerated and ridiculous, I knocked her leg under the table to get her attention so I could shake my head at her to try to let her know that he was being a dick. I’m not sure whether she meant to or not, but I swear, after she gave me a small smile, she ran her foot down my leg softly. It could just be my imagination getting the better of me, though.

  Connie and Fin both disappeared into the living room after dinner, leaving me to wash up. Emma was adamant that she was going to help, and I wasn’t going to stop her. It used to bother me when Connie and Fin spent time alone together, but those days are long gone. Thankfully, they are just friends, and I don’t need to worry about his womanising ways affecting my sister.

  I offered to drive Emma back later on in the evening, but was disappointed when she said she drove and was fine to get back okay. I kinda liked the idea of it being just the two of us in the car and walking her to her door. Could have been an excuse for a little kiss, even if it was on the cheek.

  I manage to get a couple of short workout sessions in with Emma over the weekend, but my dad keeps me busy going through everything for the business. I’m meant to be taking over gradually, so he can work part-time. By the time Sunday night rolls around, I think I know what jobs we have on and where all the men are working, including Fin, over the coming weeks, and I have a to do list from Dad as long as my arm. I’m not sure how I feel about this change so early on in my career. I love being out on building sites and getting my hands dirty. Having to be on the phone and behind a desk most of the time isn’t really me. And if he thinks I’m to be wearing a shirt and tie, then he can just fuck right off.

  Monday is hectic. I end up working right through until midnight. Thankfully, my mum brings me food to the office, which is another barn on their land, so I don’t have to worry about trying to fit in eating alongside everything else I’m trying to get my head around. My dad is great at running the company, but he is a little outdated. It is time to bring Foster and Son into the twenty-first century. I’ve set up social media accounts for the company, as well as upgrading the website and our company email accounts. Dad looks a little perplexed by the whole thing, but he trusts me and knows I’m right.

  I texted Emma during the day to let her know, after Connie gave me her number.

  Ruben: I’m really sorry babe, but I’m going to have to cancel the run tonight. Too busy at work.

  She replied almost instantly.

  Emma: Babe?? No worries, I’ll just have to do it alone. Maybe tomorrow?

  Why do I get the feeling that she has no idea how that sounded in my head!

  By Friday, I am fed the fuck up. I have only managed a couple of fifteen minute runs first thing in the morning, and then I have spent all day sat on my arse in the office. I haven’t seen Emma all week, even though I know she has been at my place, because Connie has mentioned cooking dinner for her and Fin a couple of times.

 
Needless to say, my mood with the men when they ring up is not good.

  “Ru, man, what the fuck is up with you?” Fin asks when he rings just after one.

  “I’m fed up of being stuck in here all hours. I want to get out and do something.”

  “Or do you mean someone?” he asks with a laugh.

  Yeah, that would probably relieve some tension, but at this point in time I’d be quite happy just to spend some time with her. “Fin, cut it out and do some work.”

  “Alright, pipe down, boss. Why don’t you knock off early? You’ve worked some crazy hours this week. Let your dad deal with the last couple of hours.”

  I take his advice a while later and head home to change, ready for a serious run - hopefully with Emma, if she’s about.

  I’m opening her back gate and letting myself in, like she told me to do last time I came here, in no time. The run here helped me lose some of my frustration, but I’m hoping seeing her will sort me right out. What I don’t expect is quite how she will make me forget about everything that has happened this week instantly.