Angel’s Forecast Page 2

  He was stumbling backward…

  Angel shot up in bed, “No, Deke!” she reached around…he wasn’t there. Why not? The hospital? But…

  She lay back down on her pillow. Deke was still in the hospital, not newly in the hospital. What was this dream? She couldn’t imagine, couldn’t think.

  Instead, she thought back to earlier that day when she’d lay against his chest, listening to the solid, strong, steady beating of his heart.

  She fell asleep again, imagining his arms around her, his chest under her cheek.

  Chapter Three

  “You need to use those muscles, Mr. Doucette. You need to work with me here. It can’t hurt that much, we used phonophoresis to get pain relievers to your pelvic bone…”

  Angel smiled to herself, stopping outside Deke’s hospital room door to review his chart. The doctor hadn’t been in yet, it seemed.

  “I didn’t see you put no phonophoresis on me!” Deke yelped in alarm. “When did you do that?”

  The physical therapist, Janine Hebert, if Angel remembered correctly, heaved a longsuffering sigh. “Remember, just about twenty minutes ago, when we did that ultrasound? They showed you the little plate attached to the bone?”

  “Yeah?” Deke responded suspiciously.

  “There was cortisone in the gel they used. Sound waves, ultrasonic energy from the ultrasound, drive the ointment through the skin. That’s what phonophoresis is. You can’t tell me it doesn’t feel better,” Janine stated firmly, almost a challenge.

  “Where is Angel?” Deke growled, bringing a grin to Angel’s face. She’d known he wouldn’t appreciate Janine’s all-business, not so friendly, put-upon manner.

  “Right here, Dekon,” Angel entered the room, surprised when Janine got up and hugged her. They’d only worked together a few times. “Is this bad boy givin’ you a fit, shai?” she murmured.

  “Lord, yes!” Janine groaned.

  “I am not!” Deke objected. “I just…I think she wants me to go dancin’ or some odd thing like that,” he glared at Janine.

  “We’re trying to get him up,” Janine said, almost a whisper. “I think he’s nervous.”

  “I ain’ no capon!” He expelled an impatient breath. “It’s jus’…well, I was waitin’ for you, Béb,” he aimed a half-smile at her, melting Angel’s heart. How had he gotten inside her boundaries so quickly? It must have been while he was sleeping, she mused.

  “Oh, gawd,” Janine groaned, rolling her eyes. Angel didn’t know if that was in response to Deke’s blatant manipulation of the facts, or his adorable countenance.

  “Nobody thinks you’re a coward, Dekon. But you’ll never get out of here if you don’t get up.” She turned to Janine. “Did you already measure him for crutches?”

  “Yes, we did that with him laying flat. Now that you’re here, though, you can help get him out of that bed.” She turned to Deke. “Once we get past this hurtle, you’ll be going all over the place—driving other people up the wall.”

  Deke arched a disbelieving, unappreciative brow at her and Angel had to turn away to hide her amusement. She scooted in next to him while Janine brought forward a set of crutches that had been leaning on the wall.

  “Crutches have to fit just right,” Janine was saying as Angel slid an arm around behind Deke. He looped his other arm over her shoulder. “The top of the crutch should be about two inches below your armpit,” Janine went on. Angel waited for the signal to help Deke stand.

  Deke turned and nuzzled at the curve of Angel’s shoulder and throat. “Mmm, you smell nice, Bébé,” he murmured low, his hot breath caressing her ear, making her shiver, her knees weak, causing heat to pool low in her belly.

  “Stop that,” Angel hissed, squirming a little, embarrassed to hear her voice crack.

  Deke’s rich chuckle played along her nerves like warm butter and it was all she could do not to groan aloud.

  Janine didn’t seem to notice her patient’s lack of focused concentration toward her as she went on. “The hand rests should be positioned so that your elbows are slightly bent and your weight can be supported on your hands and wrists.” She reached for a third, slightly smaller crutch and demonstrated.

  Deke paid absolutely no attention to anyone but the woman in his arms, leaning closer, tongue flicking out as he helped himself to a little taste of Angel’s maple skin.

  “Butter cream and brown sugar, yeah,” he breathed. “Why come you got freesons all over, Béb? You cold?”

  “Oh, lawd, Dekon, what are you doing?” Angel gulped, her whisper a highpitched squeak. Of course she had freesons—goose-bumps, with his tongue painting a blazing fire of sensation beginning just under her jaw, heading toward her ear, and encompassing every nerve ending in her body. He knew she was weak to him, he intended to keep it that way.

  Oblivious, Janine continued her spiel, “Never rest your weight on your underarms. It can damage the nerves there. Balance is basic to walking properly with crutches.” She grabbed a second crutch, obviously fitted to her smaller stature, and positioned herself to demonstrate their use. “In order to maintain your balance, keep your body in good alignment with your head held high, shoulders back and stomach and buttocks in. Using crutches takes practice.” Once, twice, she brought herself from the door to the window and back, not realizing that her audience was otherwise occupied.

  “Mais, I’m getting to know you,” Deke answered warmly, his voice low, decadent seduction, stroking over her, wrapping around her, warm breath drawing her in. He did all he could to make a little world, just the two of them, no physical therapist, nobody but them.

  When Angel would have moved back, he pulled her closer, smoothing his hand up and down her arm as if to warm her. The heat of his touch, the slightly calloused, strong and sensual sweep of his fingers had her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wing.

  “We been through a lot here, to know so little about one another. I know your scent in my sleep, been wanting to taste you for some time now.”

  “Deke…” she protested pointlessly, his words cutting through her already weakened determination.

  “Right here, Ange,” he murmured, sliding his hand up between her shoulder blades and up to cup her head.

  He’d kissed her once before, what seemed like a lifetime ago. That event had—no doubt about it—had rocked his world. Now he wanted to make sure her world was tilting in that very same direction.

  Vaguely aware that the physical therapist had stopped expounding on the virtues of crutches to talk to someone at the door, Deke lowered his face to Angel’s, caressing her lips with his own, just feeling. With a groan, he gathered her closer, tracing the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  Angel gasped, surprised, overwhelmed, and Deke took shameless advantage of it.

  His tongue led hers in a delicate tango, the satin heat of her mouth drawing him in.

  “Hey!”

  The physical therapist had apparently turned her attention back to them, Deke realized dimly.

  Reluctantly, he lifted his head, satisfied by the dazed look on Angel’s face.

  “Yeah?” he addressed the woman standing in front of him, a dark frown on her face as she supported herself very correctly on a pair of aluminum crutches.

  “You’re supposed to be paying attention,” Janine snapped. “Are you ready to stand up and try out your new crutches?”

  “I’d just as soon wait a little spell,” Deke confessed, gathering the sheet onto his lap. Angel groaned low with embarrassment, a hand covering her eyes. Even with her slightly darker skin, he could still tell quite clearly that she was blushing.

  “Uncle Deke!” Ashlynn rushed in, followed by her intended, Gabriel Theroit.

  “I’ll be right back,” Angel murmured, slipping out of Deke’s hold. She barely slowed down to squeeze Ashlynn’s hand and then Gabe’s, ducking out of the room as if hounds were at her heels.

  “What’d you do to Angel, Uncle Deke?” Ashlynn looked from the empty doorway to Dek
e.

  “He kissed her!” Janine growled.

  “Mais, that usually runs ‘em off,” Gabe chuckled, moving to the bed to shake Deke’s hand.

  “Very funny,” Deke grumbled, holding out an arm for Ashlynn’s hug.

  “If you are ever going to get out of here…maybe to kiss Angel in private,” Janine snarked, “you are going to have to get out of that bed!”

  Kissing Angel in private held a great deal of appeal for Deke. In fact, anything with Angel in private interested him to no end.

  “Help me get down, Gabe,” he demanded, nodding toward the crutch leaning against his bedside table.

  Gabe arched a brow in question at Janine. “Yes! Thank you, Lord, for sending a sign!”

  Deke rolled his eyes at her exaggeration, while Ashlynn giggled. Shrugging his broad shoulders, Gabe reached for the crutch.

  ———

  Deke had fallen backward, fallen down. He wasn’t supposed to be putting his full weight on his legs yet.

  What were those noises? Fireworks in October? Shouting, splashing, swearing, the sound of pottery breaking.

  Angel flew down from the upper room and around the house to come out through her favorite little courtyard. Where was Deke? Where?

  What was that noise? A helicopter? A car horn?

  The telephone!

  “Hello?” Angel wasn’t really asleep, not really awake either.

  “Angel?”

  “Ash? What time is it, shai?” she looked around for her clock but somehow it had found its way to the floor.

  “It’s six-thirty, Angel. Sorry, but I had to call!”

  Ashlynn didn’t sound upset. In fact, she sounded exuberant. “No, it’s oaky, uh, what’s up? Why’d you have to call at…six-thirty?” the last two words ended on a shrill note.

  “I just heard from Storm!” Ashlynn gushed.

  “And not on the phone, neither,” interjected Gabe in the background, sleepily disgruntled. Though to Angel, he sounded indulgent more than anything else.

  Angel chuckled. “How is mon petit Tempête?”

  She’d always called him by the Cajun word for storm. It had made him angry when he was a child. Now, though, it was their little affectionate pet name.

  “He’s going to be here in two weeks! We’re going to try to plan the wedding around when Uncle Deke can walk again and Storm gets home. Isn’t that outstanding?”

  Ashlynn gushed.

  She was excited, obviously. But Ash was happy. Angel could always tell when she was upset, even if fires weren’t flaring up all over the place. Ashlynn sounded more Cajun when she was agitated, otherwise she sounded more like her mother, refined and genteel.

  “Absolutely,” Angel yawned, pushing the remnants of her dream away. “It’s gonna be the best, shai, the best.”

  She would by far rather focus on the positives of Ashlynn’s upcoming wedding than the negatives of her frightening dream. It was no hardship to chat with her best friend at length about flowers, cake, whatever. Angel settled in for a long chat.

  Chapter Four

  “You can’t go home by yourself, and that’s all I got to say about it,” Dr. Santiny stated resolutely.

  “I’ve been in here the better part of a month! In fact, longer than a month!” Deke shouted. “What you mean, I cain’t go home?”

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t leave,” the doctor replied patiently. “I just said you couldn’t go by yourself. You have to have someone with you.”

  “Hell, we got plenty of room,” Remy spoke up, looking at the assembled group.

  Rayne laid a dainty hand on his forearm. “Grand-mère may not be able to handle the extra stimulation,” she advised him quietly.

  Remy opened his mouth to speak and closed it with a snap. Angel could see Ashlynn’s grip tighten on Gabe’s wrist.

  “Madame, I’m not ready,” Angel protested mentally to Rayne.

  “And when will you be ready, my child?” the reply was soft, sweet. “Ready for love…ready for life, when?”

  “Would I be acceptable to stay with Dekon? Um, I mean have Dekon stay with me…” Angel spoke up nervously, eyes trained on Dr. Santiny.

  She could feel the surprise ripple around the room, almost a living thing. Though Ashlynn and Gabe, and even Doc Santiny, knew well about her careful way in dealing with men, Deke’s astonishment was more vivid. She’d been very careful around him since he’d regained lucidity. Even more so since that debilitating kiss.

  “You still out at your Tante Marie and Oncle Peeyot’s old place? Not too marshy there, is it?” Doc scrutinized her carefully.

  Angel looked over at Deke, who gave her a hard look. He had to know she was uneasy. She nodded. Yes, she was uneasy. But Deke Doucette was the Cajun man she’d been waiting for all her life.

  He was hers. She’d just have to get over herself.

  “It’s only marshy on the back side,” she clarified. “There’s lots of room. We’ll confine ourselves to the second floor and porch for the first week or two.” She was babbling, she knew it. Taking a deep breath, she closed her mouth and smiled.

  “I’m satisfied with that, then,” Doc Santiny gave his blessing to the arrangement.

  It didn’t escape Angel’s notice that Deke’s response was longer in coming. He looked at her speculatively for endless seconds. She held his gaze and waited. They barely knew each other. Maybe now was a good time to change that. She hoped he could live with her “idiosyncrasies”. Only one way to find out.

  Deke held Angel’s gaze as he nodded slowly. Hell yeah, he wanted to be with her.

  But it did seem out of character for her to volunteer to bring him into her home where it would just be the two of them. He’d been chasing her around as best he could for a man who couldn’t stand on his own two legs without crutches.

  “And how is your lovely grandmother?” the old doctor turned to Rayne.

  “I’m quite certain she would enjoy a visit from you, Doctor. You know she’s sweet on you,” Rayne teased.

  “Now, Rayne Deveau!” A slight growl caused Dr. Santiny to clear his throat.

  “Ah, I mean Madame Doucette,” he clarified, mopping lightly at his brow. “You know Esmé would be scandalized to hear you say such a thing!”

  “I doubt it,” Remy laughed deep in his throat. “That woman is damn near unflappable,” he said, belying Rayne’s earlier statement.

  “Stay around and let’s talk about this, Ange,” he murmured as the room emptied, Doc Santiny inviting himself to tea with Remy and Rayne, and more importantly, Esmé.

  The old doctor had had a crush on the older woman since he was a youth entering middle school. She was a dozen years older than he, but Rayne teased that maybe his youth would allow him to catch her.

  “Okay,” Angel agreed, moving aside to talk to Ashlynn near the door.

  “I won’t have you playing games with my cousine,” Gabe growled at Deke in a low voice, keeping an eye on the two women across the room.

  “Fils de putain!” Deke swore as quietly as he could. “My eye, you won’t have me playin’ games! What you call you taking over my niece that way?”

  “Ashlynn and I are sont fiancés,” Gabe reminded him of their engagement in a furious whisper, obviously not wanting to startle the two women at the door of the small room.

  “Mais, how did that come about, podna?” Deke asked him smugly, still cringing inside just a little at the idea of the events preceding his niece’s engagement. Gabe released his breath slowly. “You remember what you told me when we had that fight over Ashlynn?”

  “Qui?” Gabe demanded. What? “Angel is not a Federal Treasury agent…”

  “Non, but she is a grown woman. Twenty-seven years old. Old enough to make up her own mind.” There was a lot more he could say, wanted to say, but he let it go.

  Gabe nodded. “Fine, but just so you know—there’s more to her than you think.”

  “You ever met a woman what there wasn’t?” Deke snickered.

&nbs
p; Gabe joined him in laughter, parting with a handshake before he left with Ashlynn.

  The door closed with a hiss and a squeak, leaving Deke alone with Angel. The two regarded one another silently for a moment. Finally, Deke spoke.

  “Why you offered to have me stay with you? Why you did that?” Deke asked without preamble.

  “Uh…” Angel moved to the chair next to Deke’s bed. She fidgeted nervously as she reached for an answer. “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she mumbled.

  “Not good enough,” he shot back. “Why?” he asked again.

  “I care about you,” she admitted, her voice a husky rasp.

  “Nope,” he said definitively, crossing his arms.

  Angel cleared her throat. He knew this wasn’t easy for her. It wasn’t easy for him, either.

  She sighed gustily, looking away. “I want to be with you,” she admitted.

  “That’s fine, that,” he extended a hand to her. After a moment, she took it. “One day, we come across each other, have a helluva kiss, then the next day, I’m shot and there we are, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Angel agreed, swallowing audibly.

  “If we’re goanna see what we got here, we need to do it on the same footing, yeah?” She nodded. “You wanna go home, think this through?” he offered.

  She shook her head from side to side. “This is right, I know. It’s just…there’ll be some getting used to, is all.” She offered him a weak smile. Giving his hand a little squeeze, she stood. “I guess I’d better go.”

  “Maybe you could kiss me goodnight?” he wheedled, figuring he’d take every bit of what he could get. “I mean, since we’ll be livin’ together and all.”

  Her face flushed as she leaned down to lay a soft kiss on his forehead. Deke was having none of that. He reached up, cupping the back of her neck, he pulled her to him.

  When her lips touched his, he murmured, “I’m a grown man, Ange, get used to dat.”

  He pulled her closer, his hand sliding between the buttons of her blouse, reaching under the elastic and spandex to cup her tightening breast. His lips covered hers, giving and taking in a brief, hungry kiss. Slowly, his fingertips stroking her peeked nipple briefly, he pulled out of the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers to catch his breath.