living room. She smiled sleepily and looked at the clock. It was 5:45 a.m. It was a good thing they hadn’t stayed up too late last night. She knew he’d be up early no matter what time he went to bed. It brought happiness to her heart to know that Angel was already up, as well. That thought, of course, brought his handsome brother to mind. She’d gone to bed troubled last night.
Her heart belonged irrevocably to Angel. She’d been attracted to him since the day she met him. Where the attraction to his brother came from, she didn’t know. Was it because of the resemblance? Was it the long look that passed between them at the door?
Her mother always told her the eyes were the windows to the soul. Perhaps she should have followed her mother’s teaching and averted her eyes when she’d first seen him, then she wouldn’t be having these feelings. Last night, he’d seen straight into her soul as deeply as Angel ever had. That didn’t sit well. Angel had patiently earned her trust and the right to see that deeper part of herself.
He’d encouraged her to hold her head high and told her that she had nothing to be ashamed of. He’d told her once that her mother was wise in her teaching, but perhaps averting her eyes had become a way to hide from even those who cared about her and intended her no harm. She knew he was right.
Any way she looked at it, she was confused. She didn’t feel violated for having allowed Joaquin to look in her eyes—that would be silliness—but she worried about what he saw there that made him respond to her.
She groaned and rose from the bed and donned her bathrobe. Maybe everything would be fine this morning. Maybe it was her exhaustion that made her feel that way last night. Maybe he was noticing and concerned because she looked so worn out from work. Right , that would explain the desire she saw plainly in his eyes last night. She hoped if Angel noticed her reaction to Joaquin that he wasn’t mad at her for acting so silly at the door. He was not one to take offense easily. Maybe she was worrying for nothing, or maybe she was a loose woman needing her head checked.
She walked into the living room and couldn’t help but smile, watching Michael in his cowboy hat and pajamas, astride the rocking pony. He rocked back and forth on it with one arm up high in the air. She picked up her camera and started taking pictures. After jumping off the horse, he brought the little play tool belt to her, needing her help to put it on. When it was secure around his little hips, he turned to her and said, “Now me and Daddy are gonna build you a house.” She pulled him to her and hugged him close as tears stung her eyes. He had such a tender, giving heart.
“You play, and Mama is going to get ready so we can go to Angel’s house.”
Those were the magic words. “Angel’s house! Angel’s house! We gotta go!”
“Slow down, you have time to play. Mama is going to make herself pretty then get you dressed, and we’ll go.”
“Take my tools?”
“Sure, baby.”
Teresa texted Angel, and he called her right back. She handed Michael the phone, and Michael said, “Angel! Santa came! Santa came! He got me a horsie! Yeah, a rockin’ horsie. Yeehaw!” Michael screeched as he rocked on the horse. “Yep, I’m a cowboy just like you!” he crowed. “We comin’ over soon. Bye!” he yelled and handed the phone back to Teresa.
“Good morning, Angel. Merry Christmas.”
“Good morning, sweetheart. You coming over?”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can. Michael was so excited. He wanted to call you and tell you about the horse.”
“A cowboy’s first horse is a special thing. Sort of like first love. I’ll finish up here and get breakfast going. I love you.”
“I love you, Angel.”
Chapter Ten
Teresa stood beside the couch watching Michael trot around the living room dressed in his chaps, spurs, cowboy boots, and plaid shirt that looked so much like the ones Angel wore. Over the
Her heart belonged irrevocably to Angel. She’d been attracted to him since the day she met him. Where the attraction to his brother came from, she didn’t know. Was it because of the resemblance? Was it the long look that passed between them at the door?
Her mother always told her the eyes were the windows to the soul. Perhaps she should have followed her mother’s teaching and averted her eyes when she’d first seen him, then she wouldn’t be having these feelings. Last night, he’d seen straight into her soul as deeply as Angel ever had. That didn’t sit well. Angel had patiently earned her trust and the right to see that deeper part of herself.
He’d encouraged her to hold her head high and told her that she had nothing to be ashamed of. He’d told her once that her mother was wise in her teaching, but perhaps averting her eyes had become a way to hide from even those who cared about her and intended her no harm. She knew he was right.
Any way she looked at it, she was confused. She didn’t feel violated for having allowed Joaquin to look in her eyes—that would be silliness—but she worried about what he saw there that made him respond to her.
She groaned and rose from the bed and donned her bathrobe. Maybe everything would be fine this morning. Maybe it was her exhaustion that made her feel that way last night. Maybe he was noticing and concerned because she looked so worn out from work. Right , that would explain the desire she saw plainly in his eyes last night. She hoped if Angel noticed her reaction to Joaquin that he wasn’t mad at her for acting so silly at the door. He was not one to take offense easily. Maybe she was worrying for nothing, or maybe she was a loose woman needing her head checked.
She walked into the living room and couldn’t help but smile, watching Michael in his cowboy hat and pajamas, astride the rocking pony. He rocked back and forth on it with one arm up high in the air. She picked up her camera and started taking pictures. After jumping off the horse, he brought the little play tool belt to her, needing her help to put it on. When it was secure around his little hips, he turned to her and said, “Now me and Daddy are gonna build you a house.” She pulled him to her and hugged him close as tears stung her eyes. He had such a tender, giving heart.
“You play, and Mama is going to get ready so we can go to Angel’s house.”
Those were the magic words. “Angel’s house! Angel’s house! We gotta go!”
“Slow down, you have time to play. Mama is going to make herself pretty then get you dressed, and we’ll go.”
“Take my tools?”
“Sure, baby.”
Teresa texted Angel, and he called her right back. She handed Michael the phone, and Michael said, “Angel! Santa came! Santa came! He got me a horsie! Yeah, a rockin’ horsie. Yeehaw!” Michael screeched as he rocked on the horse. “Yep, I’m a cowboy just like you!” he crowed. “We comin’ over soon. Bye!” he yelled and handed the phone back to Teresa.
“Good morning, Angel. Merry Christmas.”
“Good morning, sweetheart. You coming over?”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can. Michael was so excited. He wanted to call you and tell you about the horse.”
“A cowboy’s first horse is a special thing. Sort of like first love. I’ll finish up here and get breakfast going. I love you.”
“I love you, Angel.”
Chapter Ten
Teresa stood beside the couch watching Michael trot around the living room dressed in his chaps, spurs, cowboy boots, and plaid shirt that looked so much like the ones Angel wore. Over the
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