Quiet Angel (18 page)

“What’s Jacob been doing on there?” Ava asked.

“How about we let this all go?” Gage suggested. “No one gets in trouble?” Ava hugged her uncle tightly, and Gage put an arm around his nephew. “No more boys, Ava. And Jacob, call me instead of using the internet, OK? You can always talk to me.” Jacob nodded but was too embarrassed to make eye contact.

“Look! That bubble’s about to hit Uncle G!” Connor said. “There’s another one! And Pippa is trying to eat it!” The three kids laughed at Pippa then ran off a few feet, taking turns blowing bubbles at her, torturing the poor crazy dog chomping away in the air.

Layla spread out the blanket and sat on Gage’s lap. “What was on his phone?” she whispered.

“He’s almost 13,” Gage said. “You can imagine.”

“Porn?”

Gage laughed. “Thank God, not yet. It was stuff about how to, um. . . .”

“Kiss?”

Gage laughed again. “He was searching how to hide an erection, and whether jerking off is normal.”

“I hope I never have a boy,” she said. “The kids really love you.”

“I worry about them. They’re going through a lot with the divorce. When you and I get married. . . .”

“
When
?”

“Absolutely. When we get married, divorce is not an option, OK? No matter what, we stick it out.” Layla kissed him slowly on the lips in agreement.

“Gross!” Connor yelled. “You could get sick that way.”

“Uncle G, maybe we’ll tell Mom you’re sucking face in front of us,” Jacob said.

Gage sprang to his feet and wrestled Jacob to the ground. “Ava and Connor, come help me beat up your brother!”

Layla placed Pippa
at her feet and buckled up, the seat belt pinching her butterflies just a little. It was more than the usual nerves for take off. It was where she was heading—to his turf, to his city. And she fully expected he’d want sex. She did, too. So she couldn’t blame him really. They’d been together about a month and done less than they had as teenagers.

Not that Gage hadn’t tried. She just didn’t think she was ready. Or maybe she was ready and just scared, fearing that if they did it, he wouldn’t think it was as good as their first time. Or maybe she wouldn’t measure up to the other women he’d been with. She certainly didn’t want to disappoint him.

Her phone buzzed.
Have a safe flight. See you at the gate in 44 minutes.
She hadn’t expected Gage to pick her up in the airport. But then again, she didn’t know what to expect for the weekend. All she knew was there was some party or event he wanted her to attend tomorrow night. So Layla packed the only cocktail dress she owned but worried it wasn’t nice enough.

Poppy wasn’t worried about what she was going to wear. She was just happy to be going. Out of the blue, Gage invited her to come along and offered to fly her in tomorrow. Poppy jumped at the chance and for several days talked Layla’s ear off about what to do with her hair.

The plane accelerated down the runway, into the great unknown. Layla looked down at Pippa underneath the seat in front, hoping for some support, some reassurance. But the dog didn’t have a care in the world. She just licked her paw and plopped down to sleep.

*

Gage paced in
front of the gate. He looked at his watch, the clock on his phone, the one on the wall. Any minute she’d be back in his arms where she belonged.

“G man,” Dash called out. “Waiting on your lady?”

Gage couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, where you off to?”

“Tampa,” Dash said. “I’ll be back for tomorrow night.” Gage nodded then looked back to the gate, his foot tapping on the floor. “You do know only ticketed passengers are supposed to be beyond the security checkpoint?”

“I can go wherever the hell I want.”

“Just saying you might get a cavity search. Or maybe you’d like that? Or maybe you want to get all up in Layla’s cavity?” Dash laughed so hard he hunched over, his hands on his knees.

Gage looked down at his friend with amusement. Dash was one of the finest pilots in the country, his flight training second to none, his safety record impeccable. But to hear him talk, to see him bent over, one would think he was a crazy person who put on his Halloween costume several months too early.

“‘In the butt, no babies’ was always your motto,” Gage joked.

“And ‘bang ‘em like you bought ‘em’ was always yours,” Dash said. “Wonder if Layla knows that?” He gave a little nod towards the gangway.

Gage turned to find Layla walking towards him, holding a dog carrier and a bag. He could see her dimples. He lifted her up off the floor and buried his head in her hair. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Layla wrapped her entire body around him and pressed her mouth against his. Then she heard clapping and whistling and suddenly remembered they were in the middle of the Atlanta airport. Blushing, she pulled away, and Gage put her down. She looked up to see Dash leading the applause.

“Get a room!” the handsome pilot yelled out. “Security!”

“Layla, I’m sure you remember Dash.”

“Of course she does,” Dash said. “I’ve been told I’m unforgettable.”

“With shit in your name,” she said, “how could I forget?”

Dash wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I like you.”

“Good,” Gage said, “because I’m keeping her.”

“Always knew you were a family man at heart, Gage. All those years chasing ass never suited you.” Gage closed his eyes in horror. “Sorry, Layla. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“It’s OK,” Layla said and took Gage’s hand. “I benefit from his
mad
bedroom skills.”

Dash busted into another hearty laugh and headed towards his gate. “See you guys tomorrow.”

“Layla, I’m so sorry. Dash embellishes. I. . . .”

She kissed him gently on the lips. “You still love me?” Gage nodded. “I’m still the only woman you ever loved?” He nodded again. “That’s all I need to know.” She started to walk from the gate, and Gage quickly picked up the carrier and bag and fell in line with her. “So Dash is coming to the party tomorrow?”

“Yeah, unless I kill him first.”

*

Layla stared up
at a sleek glass building reaching into the night sky. “This is where you live? It’s a hotel!”

“Yeah, but there are private residences on the top floors,” Gage said. “That’s what makes it great. You get the benefits of a hotel at your house. There’s a fitness center, 24-hour concierge service, a small convenience store, pet care for Pippa. The best part is the rooftop helicopter pad.”

A doorman met them in the lobby. “Good evening, Mr. Montgomery. Here’s the extra key you requested.” Gage handed it to Layla. “Do you need assistance with your bag or carrier?”

“No, I can manage,” he said, “but thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you this evening, Mr. Montgomery?”

“No, that’s it.” Gage led Layla through the lobby, with its glitzy chandeliers and polished marble floors, towards the wood-paneled elevator. The door opened, and Layla moved to put the key away. “Don’t do that. You need it to get up to my place.” Gage showed her how to use the key to access the higher floors.

A little elevator voice called out where they were headed.
25th floor penthouse.

“How rich are you?” Layla asked, as the door closed. “You must be mortified by my little house.”

He gave her tight ass a little squeeze. “I love being wherever you are.”

“I bet you do,” she said. The elevator voice announced their arrival to the top floor. “That’s pretty cool how it talks to you.” They stepped out and took a few steps along a hallway leading to double doors. “You have the whole floor?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling, and opened up. “Make yourself at home.” He let Pippa out of the carrier, and she darted towards a sofa in the den.

“Pippa!” Layla cried, as the dog curled up in a ball between two pillows.

“It’s fine. She should make herself at home, too.”

“I probably should’ve taken her to pee before coming up.”

“If she pees, it’s fine. We’ll clean it up.” He took her bag and headed towards his bedroom, disappearing for a moment.

Layla grabbed Pippa from the sofa and took a minute to wander around the penthouse, taking in the open floor plan, fine furniture, wood floors. The kitchen had stainless steel appliances, but it looked like they’d never been used. There were at least two huge flatscreen TVs, one over the fireplace in the living area, and another in a room she wasn’t sure of, a room full of rich mahogany wood and lined with rows and rows of old books. It could’ve been an office or a library.

Gage came out of his bedroom. “What do you think?”

“I knew you had money, but. . . .”

“It’s just a house,” he said. “Come see the balconies.”

He led her outside and pointed down to the street. She followed his hand, her stomach in knots. She could hear some noise coming from the cars and people below. A Friday night in downtown Atlanta was on the verge of getting cranked up. For once she wished she were in the confines of an airplane, not simply held up by a thin sheet of concrete poured by construction workers who may not have had any idea what they were doing.

Gage put an arm around her and motioned towards the skyline. He pointed out the CNN Center, the aquarium, and World of Coca-Cola. She’d seen all those places before, though never with Gage, and certainly not from the heavens. “The best part is I can walk to work.” He directed her eyes to another spot. “The Southern Wings corporate office is just down the street, right between those two buildings.”

*

Her hair dripping
wet, Layla wrapped herself in a bath towel and headed to her suitcase in his bedroom. She stubbed her toe on his briefcase. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” he said, looking up from his laptop. “Guess I shouldn’t leave that on the floor.” Layla rifled through her bag, and Gage eyed her half-naked body. He felt his dick press against his pants, knowing he was being ruled by only one part of his anatomy. “What do you need?”

“I forgot my blow dryer. Do you have one?”

“Guys don’t blow dry their hair.”

“Then I guess I’m going to dinner with a wet head.”

“Let me check,” he said, and she followed him back to the bathroom. He opened a few drawers in the vanity and encouraged her to do the same. “If I don’t have one, I’ll head down and buy you one. They probably have one in the store in the lobby.” He moved to the linen closet while Layla continued looking in the vanity.

Her eyes popped. “Um,” she said, clearing her throat.

Gage stuck his head out of the closet and saw Layla holding an unopened, wrapped tampon, dangling it with two fingers like it was the end of a rat’s tail. “Why are you showing me that? Are you still on your period?”

Layla threw it at his head. “It’s not mine!”

A look of terror washed over his face. He searched his mind for what could’ve happened, for what to say or do. First, he made a mental note to fire his housekeeper. It had been months since a woman had been to his place, so there was no reason a tampon should be hanging around. Second, he had no idea whose it was. He hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time and couldn’t imagine one of the girls he periodically saw would ever store a tampon at his place. Third, he knew the tampon obliterated any chance of sex tonight. A girlfriend doesn’t want to be reminded of another girl.
Fucking tampon ruined my night.