He's No Angel (Heaven Can Wait Book 1) Read online

  “I wasn’t scared. Only concerned for you. And sorry that happened to you. I know how unsettling it can be.”

  Her compassion, her empathy and concern, combined with her understanding and commiseration all touched something deep inside him. Something that stripped him bare. Tore down the walls he’d built around himself with regards to that horrific night that had changed his life. He swallowed once, hard, then said, “You told me what caused your nightmares but you haven’t asked what caused mine.”

  “And I won’t.” Her gaze, so serious behind her glasses, rested steadily on his. “Not because I don’t care but because I do. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  It felt as if everything inside him shifted, realigning to make room for the swell of emotions that filled him at her words. And he found himself asking, “What if I’m ready now?”

  “Then I’m ready to listen.”

  “I… I’ve never told anyone about the nightmares. And I only talked about the incident that started them when it first happened, when I didn’t have any choice but to tell my superiors and co-workers and family about it.”

  “You don’t have to talk about it now, Liam,” she said quietly. “Really. It’s okay.”

  “I want to,” he said, quickly. And suddenly he felt desperate to tell her. “It happened last year. In Chicago. A fire in a high rise apartment building. All fires are bad, but high rises present special challenges. We were on the tenth floor. Me and my partner Cade. Search and rescue. Conducting a final sweep to make sure no residents remained.”

  He could picture the scene vividly in his mind and the choppy words poured from him faster. “The smoke was so thick, the heat so intense. Fingers of fire… we had to get out. We knew it. Then the floor shook and the ceiling groaned. Not good. Not good.”

  After pausing long enough to pull in a ragged breath, he continued. “Debris fell as we raced to get out. Cade was ahead of me on the stairwell. All I could think about was counting the floors as we went down, praying we’d reach the bottom in time. The heat… I can’t describe it. Like what I imagine Hell must feel like. There were tremors in the floor. One knocked me down. Then this searing pain in my side… ”

  He jerked his head in the direction of the six-inch scar marking his skin. “I got up but couldn’t see Cade. Couldn’t see anything but that black smoke. Couldn’t hear anything except collapsing walls and exploding windows. I lost count of the floors. Just kept going. Going. Ignoring the pain. Praying for the bottom.

  “And then there it was. I got out. Looked for Cade, but didn’t see him. People were yelling, running. Someone grabbed me, dragged me forward. I remember what sounded like an explosion. Then pain. Then… nothing. I woke up the next day in the hospital. I had a concussion, two broken ribs, a nasty gash in my side, a dislocated shoulder, broken arm, fractured leg. But I was alive.” He briefly closed his eyes and pulled in a long, unsteady breath. “Cade wasn’t.”

  His gaze dropped to their joined hands and he focused on the welcome sight of her fingers wrapped tightly around his. “Cade had a wife. Had only been married a few months. I was an usher at his wedding. He was a good man and a good friend. I don’t know why I survived and he didn’t. He made it out before me, was further away from the explosion, but he somehow got hit with more debris. My physical injuries healed, but the mental… I spent some time on a shrink’s couch. We discussed survivor’s guilt. It helped, but I wanted, needed a change. Wanted to start fresh. So I left Chicago. The constant stress. The crushing memories. And… here I am.”

  His final words hung in the air between them for several long seconds. Speaking the words out loud seemed to lift an oppressing weight from his shoulders and he drew what felt like his first easy breath in a year.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Emma said softly. She slipped one of her hands from his and laid it on his side, directly over his scar. Her soft palm heated his damaged skin, filling him with a warmth that shook him to his core. “Sorry you suffered something so traumatic. Sorry it haunts you still. Thank you for telling me.”

  He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to express the tidal wave of feeling swamping him, didn’t know what to call it other than relief. Deep, profound, relief. Mixed with a peace he hadn’t felt since the night Cade died.

  He wanted to tell her, was going to try to tell her, but before he could gather his thoughts, she scattered them by gently pushing him back until his head rested on his pillow. Without a word, she slipped off her glasses and set them on the night table. Then she pulled his T-shirt she wore over her head. With a single smooth move she straddled his thighs then leaned forward. Rested her hands over the spot where his heart pounded hard enough to bruise his ribs. Then pressed her lips to his scar.

  Liam sucked in a hissing breath and lightly grasped her hips. There was no point trying to speak. She simply robbed him of words. After leisurely dragging her tongue along the length of his scar, she slowly kissed her way across his chest, over his neck, along his jaw then gently laid her lips on his.

  He’d never experienced a softer kiss. Or one that affected him so profoundly. With a mere whisper of a touch, with the barest mingling of breaths, she reached a place inside him that no one had ever before come remotely close to touching. A place he hadn’t even known was there until she came along and proved its existence. A place that was now entirely hers.

  She ended their kiss and he dragged his eyes open. Watched her open a condom. With her eyes on his, she sheathed him then slowly sank onto his erection.

  No words. Only feeling. He let her set the pace and watched her take him deep inside her. Again and again. His every sense keenly attuned to her. To her tight, silky heat enveloping him. Her soft breasts filling his palms, his fingers teasing her hard nipples. Her gasp that turned into a long, guttural moan when she came. Her name escaping him as he joined her.

  She collapsed on top of him and buried her face against his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and held on, savoring the delicious hint of flowers that clung to her damp skin and the sensation of her breath blowing warm against his throat. And as he lay there, an undeniable truth hit him.

  Time had healed his body. But this woman… she’d healed his soul.

  ~~~

  I watched Mr. Gallagher cradle Miss Heely against him. Watched the unmistakable expression of peace, of utter contentment wash over his features. Watched him close his eyes. Then watched them sleep.

  Something about the sight of them wrapped in each other’s arms, sleeping so serenely washed an odd sensation through me, one that left me unsettled and edgy. And it suddenly occurred to me that in spite of my numerous sexual encounters, I’d never actually slept with a woman. Had never spent the entire night with anyone. Certainly I’d had the opportunity to do so, but never the desire. Once the sex was over, I departed. Returned to my own bed. And slept alone. And it struck me that the operative word there wasn’t ‘slept’ but ‘alone.’

  Alone…

  I’d watched the nightmare grip Mr. Gallagher. Saw his torment. Been unable to look away from the care and concern and comfort Miss Heely offered him. How she’d held his hand as he bared his soul and shared facets of himself that he’d told no one else. The tender way she’d kissed his scar. Taken him into her body. The way they’d looked at each other as she’d done so. Their eyes so filled with… caring.

  And that’s when I realized the source of my unsettlement: No woman had ever looked at me that way.

  Ever.

  Women had regarded me with lust. Greed. Calculation. Shrewdness. Cunning. All geared toward either enticing me into their bed (many successes there), encouraging me to purchase them an expensive bauble after a tryst (an equal number of successes there), or extracting a proposal of marriage from me (not the remotest level of success there).

  What did it feel like to be looked at with such tender concern and care? Damned if I knew. But based on Mr. Gallagher’s reaction, it felt bloody damn good.

  Envy gripped m
e by the throat, shocking me as it was an emotion I’d rarely felt in life. After all, what was there to be envious about? I’d always had anything I wanted. I’d had everything.

  Or so I’d thought.

  But I’d never had what I saw pass between my humans tonight. What they’d shared was more than lust. More than passion and desire. More than just a physical joining. It was caring. Respect. Admiration. Trust. It was just… more. More than I’d ever experienced. And I instantly coveted it. Wanted it for my own. Which completely, utterly shocked me as I’d never considered such a thing before. Had never wanted anything even slightly related to the tornado-like mass of emotions I saw swirling between my humans, surrounding them in a shower of colorful sparkles that only those without the gift of life could discern.

  During my lifetime and the past two centuries in my Pre-Pearly Gate prison, my long-standing cynicism had prevented me from believing True Love existed. But based on what I’d witnessed tonight with my own eyes, coupled with the impossible-to-ignore glitters sparkling in the air around my humans, I had to consider that everything I’d always believed was simply… wrong.

  Was it possible True Love did exist after all?

  I had four weeks to find out. And I could only hope it did as it was the only thing that could set me free.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You win the lottery?” Dave asked four weeks later, eyeing Liam up and down as they stored away their gear in their adjacent lockers at the end of their twenty-four shift. Their last call had been a barn fire on a farm on the outskirts of town. Liam’s muscles ached with fatigue, but his weariness was offset by the satisfaction that there’d been no injuries and the fire had been successfully contained before spreading to the acres of surrounding forest. Definitely a good end to their busy shift.

  “Lottery?” Liam repeated, pulling a clean T-shirt over his head. “’Fraid not. Why? You need a loan?”

  “Nah. Although it would’ve been nice if the kid’s godfather and honorary uncle was a Mr. Moneybags. College costs are gonna be a bitch.”

  Liam chuckled. “The baby isn’t even here yet and you’re already worried about college?”

  “Dude, I haven’t stopped worrying since the moment Melanie told me she was preggers. The fact that she could go into labor any second has me-- ”

  “Mildly unglued?” Liam interrupted with a grin. “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”

  “Right. You, on the other hand, look more relaxed than I’ve seen you since… ever. Since you didn’t win the lottery, and given that except for this shift I’ve barely seen you for the last month and you can’t seem to wipe that loopy grin off your face, I can only guess that things are going well with the librarian.”

  Liam’s heart gave a single hard thump. An image of Emma flashed in his mind as she’d looked early yesterday morning, gorgeous and rumpled and flushed from the soft, slow pre-dawn sex they’d shared before he’d left her apartment for his shift. “Things with the librarian are going well,” he agreed.

  When he didn’t elaborate, Dave’s brows shot up. “That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me? I’m a drowning man here. I’m desperate for something to think about besides my impending fatherhood and labor pains and epidurals and all the other scary shit imminently facing me-- which in case you haven’t noticed is sort of freaking me out-- and all you’ve got to say is things with the librarian are ‘going well?’”

  Liam closed his locker and set a firm hand on Dave’s shoulder. “First, you need to take a deep breath. Everything with the birth will be fine. You’re going to have a healthy, beautiful kid, and you and Melanie are going to be great parents.”

  Dave pulled a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I just want the kid to be born already. The thought of seeing Melanie in pain… I’ll just be glad when it’s over.”

  “We all will,” Liam teased. “You’re driving everybody nuts.”

  “Ha, ha. So seriously, what’s up with you and Emma?”

  “Seriously? I’m in love with her.”

  Dave’s eyes widened. “Wow. I’ve never heard you say that about any woman before.”

  “Never felt like this about any woman before.”

  “Happened pretty fast. You’ve only been dating a month.”

  “Says a guy who told me after his first date with Melanie that she was the woman he was going to marry.”

  “True ‘dat,” said Dave with a sheepish grin.

  “Besides, I’ve known Emma longer than a month, just not in a dating way. And since that first date we’ve spent just about every non-working minute together.”

  “Hey, man, no need to convince me. I’ve never seen you so content.” He clapped his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

  Content. Yeah, that’s what he was. In a way he’d never been before. In a way that made him feel… complete. Like there’d been a piece of himself missing, one he hadn’t even known wasn’t there until he found it. In the form of Emma. Emma, who made him smile. Made him laugh. Challenged him and fascinated him in ways no other woman ever had. He loved her in bed. Loved her out of bed. He just… loved her. Everything about her, from her sharp wit to the crazy things she knew (he’d never met anyone who could recite the periodic chart of elements, the entire Gettysburg Address, and who knew every state and world capital), to the fact that she was totally tone deaf but still loved to sing in the shower. And God help him, her favorite song to belt out was Copacabana. Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl… A smile tugged at his lips just thinking about it.

  “There you go with that goofy grin again,” Dave said with a laugh.

  “Better get used to it. I can’t seem to help it.”

  No, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t stop smiling. During the past four weeks he and Emma had spent every available moment together, and with each passing minute his feelings for her, his respect and admiration, had deepened. It didn’t matter if they were strolling along London’s quaint village streets, picking apples at the nearby orchard, tackling one of the dozens of local hiking trails, cooking dinner together, or watching a rented movie, she just made him feel so damn good.

  And as if that weren’t enough? Not one nightmare or daytime flashback since he’d told her about the fire. Clearly confession really was good for the soul.

  “You dropped the L word yet?” Dave asked.

  Liam shook his head. “Not yet. Been trying to plan the right romantic moment-- ”

  “Don’t,” Dave broke in. “Don’t plan it. Just say it. Right at the instant you feel it. Life’s short, dude. Don’t waste time, not if you’re sure she’s The One.”

  “You mean just let the words flop out?”

  “Worked for me.”

  Liam nodded slowly. “Not the direction I was leaning, but I’ll definitely consider your advice, Great Wise One. I could tell her tonight when I see her… but what if she’s not ready to hear it?”

  “Hey, no one ever said putting your heart on the line wasn’t risky. My damn knees were knocking the first time I told Melanie I loved her. But you gotta go for it. YOLO, man.”

  “YOLO? What’s that?”

  “You Only Live Once.”

  Liam laughed. “Where do you hear this stuff?”

  Dave shrugged. “I may have, um, glanced at Melanie’s People Magazine. Bottom line is Emma’s a smart girl which means she’s gotta know you’re a good guy. Good? Hell, you’re like the best dude on the planet. Plus, you’re almost as good-looking as me.”

  Liam’s lips twitched. “Thanks for the endorsement. I’ll be sure to list you as a reference if she asks.”

  Dave’s cell phone rang. He paled a bit when he looked at the caller ID. “It’s Melanie,” he said then quickly answered. “Hey, babe. Everything okay?”

  Liam watched the rest of the color drain from Dave’s face. “Okay. Hang tight. I’ll be there in five minutes. Five minutes.” He ended the call and looked at Liam with a half panicked, half awed expression. “Her labor started. I g
otta go.”

  “Scram,” Liam said. He slapped a hand on his friend’s back. “Good luck. Give Melanie a big sloppy kiss for me.”

  “Will do. I’ll call you after the kid’s here.” Impossible as it seemed, Dave paled even more. “Holy crap, the next time I see you I’ll have a kid.”

  “That’s right. So get going. And don’t faint. And take good care of my future niece or nephew.”

  Dave flashed him a huge grin then dashed from the locker room yelling, “I’m gonna be a dad!”

  Dave’s ecstatic shout echoed in Liam’s head as he pulled his gym bag from his locker, and he knew without a doubt that he wanted to someday say those exact same words. Wanted everything that Dave had with Melanie. The happy marriage, the house, the yard, the kid. The whole shebang. And he wanted it with Emma.

  He pulled in a deep breath and the scent of chocolate chip cookies assailed him. A vivid image of Emma materialized in his mind and he swiftly turned around, fully expecting to find her standing behind him. He shook his head and exhaled a sheepish laugh. God, he was so crazy deep in love he even smelled her when he wasn’t with her.

  That inexplicable whiff of cookies slammed him with an overwhelming, couldn’t-wait-another-minute urge to see her. He glanced at his watch. She’d be leaving for work soon. He’d planned on going home to catch up on some sleep before seeing her tonight, but the hell with that. He wanted, needed to see her. Now. And if he hurried, he could catch her at her apartment before she left for the library. He grabbed his jacket, closed his locker then swiftly left the firehouse.

  ~~~

  I sat in the passenger seat of Mr. Gallagher’s truck, chocolate chip cookie in hand, chortling with glee as he turned the vehicle in the direction of Miss Heely’s apartment. By God, True Love did exist! He loved her!

  Based on my observations of the past month, I’d have wagered that was how Mr. Gallagher felt, yet he hadn’t said so. Since I wasn’t able to read his mind (so frustrating!), and with the deadline to complete my task a mere forty-eight hours away, I’d been desperately fighting off the panic nipping at my heels at the thought of failure. But then, like a gift from above, came Mr. Gallagher’s words to his friend: he was in love with Miss Heely.