Quiet Angel (34 page)

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Authors: Prescott Lane

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They reached the gazebo, and Poppy stepped to the side. He intertwined her fingers with his. “Beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.

“Sorry, I was late,” she said. “Poppy had a hair crisis.” Gage flashed a look to Poppy, who gave a little shrug before offering an evil eye to Dash.

The priest said a few words to the crowd, and Jacob headed to the front. He looked to Layla and Gage, who both nodded encouragingly. They could see the paper shaking in his hands. The boy swallowed hard: “Love is patient; love is kind.” He paused a few times throughout the reading but never stumbled. When he reached the end—“But the greatest of these is love”—Jacob gave Layla a huge hug, with Gage patting him on the back. Connor marched his pilot man to Layla and Gage, and she handed her bouquet to Ava.

The priest spoke to the crowd. “Gage would like to say a few words before he and Layla exchange vows.” Layla looked at Gage with wide eyes.

He smiled down at her then turned to the crowd. “4,524 days ago, I saw the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Then I lost her. 70 days ago, I found her again. And when I did, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I wasn’t going to risk losing her again. So I moved quickly this time. 30 days ago, she agreed to marry me. And today, she’ll be my wife, the greatest blessing of my life.”

Gage took her hands. “Layla, Angel, I never told you this. Remember the first time I kissed you under that old tree?” She smiled and nodded. “Remember how I backed away looking shocked? I’m sure you thought it was because the kiss was so hot.” The crowd laughed, and Layla’s dimples popped. “And it
was
. But the reason I was shocked was because the first time my lips touched yours, I felt the rest of my life.” He wiped a few tears from her cheeks. “I love you, Angel.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying in vain to contain her emotions. She leaned in close to him. “I’ve been practicing my ‘I do’ for 4,524 days,” she whispered. “I’m ready for the vows.”

*

The private jet
took off, and Layla guessed a hundred places they could be going. It could be anywhere. She wasn’t even sure which direction they were flying. One place she never imagined was Lake Como, Italy. And she never imagined a historic villa overlooking the water, with a private staff and enough bedrooms for a small village, a library, a private boat dock with a yacht and speedboat, badminton, pool tables, and waterfront restaurants on the beach. It would be an understatement to say they were spoiled all of September, or Sextember, as Poppy came to call it.

Gage arranged side trips from Lake Como to Milan and Switzerland since both were just a short train ride away. He didn’t want them to miss out on da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” or the Swiss Alps. And then, on a whim during the third week, Gage thought it would be cool to see France, so he chartered a plane, and they spent several days in a legendary hotel overlooking the Eiffel Tower. When they got back to Lake Como, they spent their last few days out on the private boat dock, dancing on the balcony, wrapped in the moonlight.

It was like something out of a movie. It was all a beautiful dream—just like their summer 12 years ago. But the dream was coming to an end. Layla could feel reality creeping in. Gage was spending a little more time each day on emails and phone calls. She understood. Running Southern Wings wasn’t easy. It was hard to be gone a month. She could tell he felt a pull to get back. And as wonderful as the honeymoon was, she felt a pull to get back, too—to settle into a life with her husband. Their flight to Atlanta was leaving in a few hours.

Layla stepped out of the bathroom and heard Gage’s voice from the balcony. He was on the phone again. She threw on a robe and opened the balcony doors, shivering, and watched him for a few moments.

“So you got confirmation,” Gage said. “I want to fly there right now!” He listened a bit more then gripped his hair. “You want me to let it go? I’m not sure I can do that. I’ll talk to her.” He saw Layla in the doorway. “I need to go.”

She gave him a small smile and pulled him back inside as he tried to end the call. But his godfather kept talking. She pushed him down on the bed, pulled off her robe, and slid down his shorts. He closed his eyes, trying to keep focused on the conversation, but his sex brain was taking over. All he could give were short, one-word answers—“yes, um, hmm”—as Layla ran her tongue across his dick. He gripped the phone, hard.

“Am I distracting you?” she whispered, sliding up his body and kissing his neck. She put him inside her and tightened.

“Oh,” Gage groaned. “No, I’m good. Very good.”

Layla rolled her hips into him, pushing him deeper. “Just
good
?”

“I’ll be back in the office tomorrow,” he said quickly. “Thanks for letting me know.” He hung up and tossed the phone on the floor. He grabbed her ass and sat up to face her, their hips rocking together, their eyes locked together. He slid his hands up her back, and his tongue lingered at her neck.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, clenching him, her whole body tingling.

Gage smiled. He wouldn’t stop if the villa was on fire. He loved watching her finish, more than he loved coming inside her. He pushed a little deeper, rolling into her, and felt her body quiver in his arms. She lowered her head on his shoulder and clung to him, tightening her legs around him, their bodies as close as could be.

And then she came. Usually it was loud, screaming his name, but other times it was quiet, like this. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t care. Her eyes always looked the same, her body always blushing. It never got old. He took her down on the bed and pulled her leg to his hip. He grabbed her ass and moved in and out of her. “That’s right, baby,” he said. “You feel better every time.”

“I’m close again,” she said and dug her fingers in his back.

“Get there, Angel,” he begged, ramming into her, each thrust hard and quick, unsure how the hell she wasn’t breaking in two.

“Oh, God! Gage!”

Gage let go, holding her tightly to his chest. He kissed her hair and lifted his head, looking down at her, fair skin, chocolate brown hair. He slowly rubbed her arm. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“You’re stuck with me now,” Layla teased, yawning.

“Maybe I should sell the airline, and we could spend every day making love.”

Layla moaned, liking the idea.

“Maybe we should think about getting a new place,” he said, “a place that’s ours, for our family.”

Layla moaned again.

“Angel,” Gage said, feeling her body go limp, falling asleep in his arms. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the moonlight casting a gentle glow on her skin. He never tired of seeing her like this—naked, peaceful. He’d waited so long to have her. And now she was his wife—his to protect, to love, to come home to each night.

It hit him.
I’m really married
.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

They walked inside
Southern Wings headquarters together. Layla didn’t know why he wanted her with him on his first day back. She could see the weight on his shoulders. He was clearly stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose, with so much work to catch up on, his desk most certainly a mess. But Gage insisted she come along, a slight twinkle in his eye.

“Nice not having reporters out front,” she said.

Gage squeezed her hand. “Nothing to report now that I’m not running.”

Layla gave him a small smile. She knew he wasn’t running because of her. She didn’t like being the reason. She’d told him more than once she could handle herself, the press. But it was time she let it go and respect his decision. It was time to focus on their life together and not look back.

They headed through the lobby, and employees stopped them every few seconds, welcoming them back from their honeymoon, congratulating their boss and the new “Mrs. Montgomery.” His mother was right. It was strange. Layla gently corrected them each time, asking them to please use her first name. With all the small talk, it took Gage and Layla forever to get to the elevator to go up.

The elevator door closed, and Gage asked, “What’s wrong with my name?”

“Nothing,” she said. “But I want your employees to like me, not think of me as the boss’ wife. Don’t get all intense just cause you’re back at work.” She kissed him tenderly on the lips as the door opened on the executive floor.

“No PDA at work, please!”

Layla darted her eyes from Gage and found her best friend coming towards her, smothering her in a hug. “Poppy, what are you doing here?”

Poppy flashed Gage a look. “You can
reall
y keep a secret.” Layla looked at them both, confused. “I work here now, Layla!”

Layla’s jaw dropped. “You’re
working
here?”

“Yep!” Poppy said.

“Wow! When did this happen? How did this happen? Are you living in Atlanta now?”

Poppy nodded excitedly. “Got an apartment here. I’ve been busy while you were gone!”

“I can’t believe this!” Layla said and hugged Gage. “What’s your job?”

Emerson approached them. “Poppy’s my assistant.” She pulled Layla and Gage into a hug. “Poppy and I got along so well planning the wedding that I offered her a job.”

“I’m handling more of the marketing stuff,” Poppy said. “Frees up Emerson to deal with the PR stuff.”

Layla looked up at Gage. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Gage said.

“So, was the honeymoon hot?” Poppy asked. “Do you guys have a sex ache?”

Layla paused for a moment. “I’d say we’re almost crippled.”

“I’m going to my office,” Gage said, not wanting to hear this. “Layla, please come see me after you all catch up.”

*

Poppy brought Layla
and Emerson down the hall to her office. The ladies spent a good while catching up on the past month—the wedding, the honeymoon, Poppy’s new job and apartment. Layla noticed Poppy didn’t mention one thing. “What about Dash?”

“I’ve been really busy moving and starting the new job.”

“So you two are over?” Layla asked.

“I can’t afford to fall in love with the wrong guy again.”

“How’s he handling it?”

“He’s trying to convince me I can trust him.”

“At least your hair is surviving.”

“It has to,” Emerson said. “Gage wrote it into her contract.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Poppy said. “It actually says no colors other than blonde, red, or brown, and they can’t be crazy shades of those colors, either. They have to be pre-approved by Gage personally.” They all had a good laugh.

“How are my nephews and niece?” Layla asked.

“Everyone is good,” Emerson said. “They are dying to see you and Gage—especially Connor. He asks me all the time.”

“That’s so sweet. We missed them, too. Maybe this weekend?”

“That would be perfect. I was actually hoping you and Gage might watch them for me,” Emerson said. “Lately I’ve been having to work more here in Atlanta, and the commute is killing me. I need to get caught up on some things here at the office.”

“I’ll talk to Gage,” Layla said. “I’m sure it’s fine. And you can stay at the penthouse for the weekend.”

*

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