Page 45 of Perfect Assumption

She stole my breath with her elegant beauty. And all I wanted to do was kick myself in the ass for being so stupid over the last two years. By building an almost insurmountable wall between us that she’s turned to Beckett Miller—much like my sister did before my brother-in-law got his head out of his ass.

What is it about that man that makes women like Carys and Angie flock to him? I frown. My jaw locks while I assimilate the fact that Angie—calm, orderly Angie—is sitting next to me dressed like a supermodel because she’s willing to step outside of her normal comfort zone to help him out. I finally just outright ask, “What’s between you and Becks?”

“What do you mean?” The temperature of her voice has dropped several degrees.

I should heed the warning, but I press on. “I mean, I’m asking you directly. Are you two in some kind of relationship?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“Do you have to answer my question with a question?”

“Do you want me to answer that?” Her voice holds a note of amusement, but I’m not finding much to laugh about.

Finally, I give in. “I’ve seen the playful way you are with one another. It reminds me of the way he was with Carys. They were together for years,” I conclude.

Her sigh is so harsh, I’m surprised it doesn’t steam up the windows. But instead of confirming or denying my thoughts, she remains stubbornly silent.

“He’s tender with you when he’s not that way with his other women.”

“Maybe he just likes me instead of playing games with me.” Her temper flashes at me.

Instead of focusing on what she said, I latch on to what I want to hear. “Exactly. Beckett Millerlikesyou.” My voice is brittle as images of the two of them entwined together flash into my head, and I press down on the gas. Then, just as quickly, I have to slam on the brakes before I almost ram into the car ahead of us. Muttering an “Excuse me,” I focus on driving.

Angie whispers something under her breath. I clear my throat before politely asking, “I’m sorry. I didn’t quite hear you?”

“You weren’t meant to,” she snaps.

“What did I say?”

“You have no idea what’s going on around you. Yet just like everyone…ugh! There you sit, making assumptions—about me, about your sister.”

“Now wait just a damn minute,” I bark out. “I didn’t make any assumptions about Carys.”

“Yes you did, you just don’t realize it. And for that matter, you’ve been making them about Becks.”

I snort. “Everyone makes them about Becks.”

“Then they should stop! How would you feel if people made them about you?”

Cynically, I wonder what this woman would do if she knew about the gossip rags will likely be printing about her tomorrow morning. Maybe I should warn her? Nah, considering what she does for my sister, she knows the paps are going to be there. Besides, if she’s so close to Becks, she knows better. “I’d face it the same way I handle everything else in my life I don’t like.”

“How’s that?” There’s true curiosity in her voice.

“I ignore it,” I say with determination. Pulling beneath a stoplight, I catch sight of Angie’s face. It’s pasty white beneath the makeup she’s wearing.

“Well, I guess I know why you barely bother to speak to me at work. Ignoring, huh? What did you need in the last few weeks that you actually bothered to pay me any attention let alone kiss me?” she tries to joke, but it’s obvious how my careless words have affected her. Her hands are clenched tightly on her bag.

Oh, Christ. “That wasn’t what I meant, Angie. I didn’t mean you,” I rush to say.

“Sure.”

“Angie…”

“Light’s green, Ward.” Her voice is devoid of all emotion.

I’m about to tell her to hell with it, that we’re going to sit where we are until she allows me to apologize, when I hear the blare of horns behind me. Cursing, I press the pedal, and we make the rest of the ride in silence.

Pulling up to Redemption’s gate, I slow down enough to catch the paleness easing from her skin. I reach over and touch her cheek briefly.