It's in His Touch (23 page)

“Okay, so maybe alligator wrestling wasn’t the best idea on the bucket list,” Kimberly huffed.

Angelique rolled her eyes. “Ya think?”

“They were supposed to be tame!” Kimberly crowed.

“You’re lucky you have a hand left.” Angelique sighed as her SUV climbed another hill, the evening sky turning a pale shade of lavender.

“That’s the last time I try to give a giant lizard a treat.”

“You still haven’t heard from Blake?” Angelique asked Kimberly, chewing her bottom lip. He’d ignored her note, her
gift
, then made it clear they were over this morning at the bakery. But why wouldn’t he call Kimberly and take the help she was offering? Kimberly’s skills as an attorney had to be far superior to Aqua Velva’s. A rock would offer better legal representation, so what was Blake’s problem?

“No.” Kimberly shook her head. “Sorry, sweetie.”

Angelique knew exactly what Blake’s problem was. Her. And maybe Kimberly was guilty by association.

She’d deflected several calls from the firm, but she couldn’t hold them off any longer. They wanted an update, and they’d have some pretty stern questions as to how and why this case went so far south; she might as well start speaking Spanish and set up a law office in Puerto Vallarta.

She’d never written a resignation before. First thing tomorrow she’d have to figure out how because the partners would surely demand one. Actually, she’d be lucky if they allowed her to quit with some dignity instead of firing her. And she still had to deal with Gabriel and his asinine accusations.

She sighed. Maybe she could buy out that alligator farm she and Kimberly had just come from. Raising alligators seemed like an honorable profession. Society needed more alligators, right? And only one of them had snapped at them for real. They were fairly docile and well-trained creatures. A bucket of fish entrails and they’d be eating out of the palm of her fingerless hand.

Angelique slowed, flipped her blinker up, and turned right into her drive. Her brows knitted together. “My parents are here.” She pulled to a stop next to her parents’ sedan. “They didn’t tell me they were coming back so soon.”

Kimberly suddenly found something out the window very interesting. “Oh, look. A cute little squirrel.” Kimberly pointed to absolutely nothing.

Angelique rolled her eyes. Kimberly never referred to anything as cute without at least two expletives attached, turning it into an insult. “You didn’t need to call my parents. I’m fine.”

They parked and walked up the porch to the door. “I’ve got to go back to Taos tomorrow as soon as we’re done at the Ostergaards’, so I called in reinforcements.”

Her dad and Nona descended on them the second she and Kimberly walked through the door, the aroma of some sort of exquisite Italian dish filling the cabin. Food was her mother’s answer to just about any problem. Many Barbetta family crises had ended with a trip to the tailor to let out waistlines. Thank God for yoga pants. When cannelloni and zeppole made an appearance, you could bet money that something catastrophic had gone down like the Yankees losing the pennant. Or a daughter diagnosed with breast cancer.

“Hello, beautiful.” Angelique’s dad gave her a peck on the cheek. “We came for a quick visit. Kimberly left a key under the mat for us.”

“I see that.” Angelique set her purse down on the counter. “What’s the occasion?”

Her mom, bent over waist-deep in the fridge, pulled her head out of the produce drawer. “Can’t we come see our daughter just because we love her?”

“You can come see me anytime you want, but I think Kimberly lured you guys up here under false pretenses.” Angelique eyed Kimberly with a suspicious glare.

Kimberly walked to the stove and peeked into a simmering pot. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She slurped spaghetti sauce from a well-used wooden spoon.

“Stop that, young lady.” Mom skittered over and swatted Kimberly’s hand, snatching the spoon away. “You know better than to do that when I’m cooking.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kimberly tried to sound contrite but failed. She pulled a pitcher from the cupboard. “I’m spiking the lemonade,” she announced.

“So what’s this we hear about you losing your first case ever?” Her dad sat down at the table.

“Gee.” Angelique glowered at Kimberly. “Good news travels fast.”

“Technically, she’s not going to lose,” Kimberly said. “The case will be dropped.”

“It’s still a loss, but if I’m going to lose a case, I’m glad it’s this one.” Angelique sighed. Even if Blake didn’t want her anymore, it was still worth it. She wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, but Red River and its band of misfit residents had changed her whole perspective on how she wanted to practice law. How she wanted to
live
.

“So does that mean you’re coming back to Albuquerque soon?” Nona asked, sniffing around the stove. “There are plenty of eligible men there. It’s time you settle down like your brothers and pop out a kid or two.”

Angelique sent Kimberly another sharp-ass glare for obviously sharing her man problems, too.

Kimberly shrugged.

Angelique rubbed the corners of her eyes, bleary from getting up at the crack of dawn. “I don’t need a man, Nona.”
Unless the man is Blake Holloway.
Yes. Yes, she so needed that particular man. “And I’m not planning to have kids.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t know for sure if your kids will inherit the gene. Nona and I both had breast cancer, too, and we didn’t let it stop us from having a family.”

“And look how well that worked out.” Angelique pointed to both of her breasts. “There wasn’t a lot of genetic testing data when you two had it, so of course your illness didn’t affect your decision to have kids.”

“We also have much better early detection methods now that weren’t available in our day,” her mom countered.

“But you had no way of knowing your genetic code was faulty. I
know
I’d be putting my children at risk. What kind of mother would that make me?”

Her mother sighed. “You’re missing the point, dear. We’re all still living.” She swept a hand across the room, indicating herself, Nona, and Angelique. “You know that thing called modern medicine? It actually works, and my life wouldn’t have been complete if I hadn’t had you kids.”

Nona nodded, taking a seat at the table. “At least modern medicine can make ’em look real. In my day they slapped a wooden boob on us and sent us on our way. Try finding a man with that.”

Angelique’s dad groaned.

“Well, we just want to see her find a nice man without having to use online dating.” Nona shook her head at Angelique’s dad. “My friend Edna signed up on one of those senior citizens’ sites in Boca Raton, and it didn’t end well. They all just wanted her body.”

Kimberly scoffed and stirred the lemonade. “This from someone who picks up strangers at the Health Shack between Calcium Support for Brittle Bones and the Colon Cleanse section.”

“Actually, it was the ginseng and black cohosh section for a stronger libido, and at least they offered to buy me dinner first.” Nona pretended to put a hex on Kimberly with the index and pinky fingers of one wrinkled and bony hand.

“You two shush already.” Her mother gave Nona and Kimberly her best Kitchen General I’m-about-to-storm-the-beachhead stare.

Angelique sank both hands into her hair and sagged against the counter. “Will there ever come a time when . . . cancer . . .” She stumbled over the word because she hated it. Just speaking it made her angry. “When it doesn’t control my life?”

Her mom took a deep breath. “Sweetie, the doubts you’re having, they’re normal. It’ll get easier with time, but you’re worrying about possibilities that are beyond your control. I know you don’t want to be a victim, but you can never stop being a survivor.”

Angelique put a hand to her forehead as a throb started at the center of her brain. “After your mastectomies, did you ever feel like you were going crazy?”

Her mother looked thoughtful. “Well, there was that one time when I thought I was bipolar, but it turned out to be menopause.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air before adding a plate of browned meatballs to the sauce. “The point is you have to go on and live your life. Otherwise, you’re letting cancer win, even if it never comes back.”

There was that “winning” thing again. Oh, her mother was so good at pushing the right buttons.

Her mother dropped a wad of spaghetti into a pot of boiling water. “
You
. Who hates to lose more than the Yankees hate the Red Sox.” Her mother used a large spoon to tap the pasta down into the boiling water.

Angelique rubbed her temples. “The truth is, I’m not sure what I want to do. Kimberly may be filing some papers for me first thing Monday morning.” If Blake would just take the help they were offering. “It’ll probably take a few more days to wrap things up here.” If she was lucky. “Then I’ll have to explain all of this to the firm.” Right before they fired her.

“You can stay with me in Taos for a little while if you want,” Kimberly offered. “I could use your help with a few cases, and getting certified as scuba divers is next on the bucket list. It’ll be faster if you stay close.”

“I thought we just agreed no more bucket list for a while?” Angelique said.

“I agreed to no such thing,” Kimberly huffed.

Hell’s bells, Angelique didn’t have anything better to do. Or wouldn’t in a few days when she was unemployed. Why not? Scuba diving in a landlocked state at eight thousand feet of altitude might be an adventure. And skydiving out of a perfectly good plane was looking better and better.

Her mother patted her hand. “All we’re saying, dear, is that it’ll be okay. Things have a way of working themselves out.”

Well, frick. So far nothing in her life had worked itself out. And she wasn’t expecting that to change anytime soon.

C
hapter
T
wenty

Angelique and Kimberly spent Sunday morning baking enough pastries to fill the Ostergaards’ display case for the week. Helping out Mr. and Mrs. O had been cathartic, since Angelique’s time in Red River was coming to a close.

She and Kimberly hugged good-bye in the parking lot. Kimberly drove back to Taos to work on an important case, and Angelique went back to her cabin.

When she entered the kitchen, Angelique froze. Her mother broke eggs into a bowl, and her father sat at the table working a crossword puzzle.

And Blake stood over the kitchen island—
her
kitchen island—attacking vegetables like a samurai warrior. Obviously, he wasn’t experienced at dicing produce because she’d never seen a tomato cut into the shape of South America.

He glanced up and did a double take. Angelique’s heart skipped. She stopped in the doorway, frozen like a deer in his headlights while she drank in the heated look of desire that shone in his eyes. Her insides liquefied.

“Hello, dear.” Her mother started to beat the eggs with a whisk. “Look who stopped by with a box of dog treats for Sarge.”

His eyes slid down her flour-caked body. A tingle started between her legs and quickly escalated to a slow burn when Blake’s gaze climbed back up her body inch by slow, sensual inch.

Okay.

She cleared her throat since her parents were in the room. Didn’t look like he was too mad at her. He looked . . . hot . . . and his smoky eyes said he wanted to be doing her instead of the vegetables. So why did it take him so long to show up after she’d given him the keys to his quaint little kingdom with that legal document?

“All done baking for that nice German couple in town?” her mother asked.

Angelique nodded. “Yes, Mother.”

She turned her simmering voice and scalding stare on Blake. “So you just stopped by, Dr. Holloway?” She lifted a shoulder and waved a hand in the air rather dramatically. Or insanely, she wasn’t sure which. “Just stopped by and made yourself at home in my kitchen with my parents.” Her volume cranked up several notches. “I mean, you think you can pop over and what? Borrow a cup of sugar whenever you want?” She damn well wasn’t talking about sugar, and he knew it. “Because I gotta tell you, Doc, I’m getting a little tired of giving you things that you don’t appreciate.”

Her mom’s whisking slowed, and both of her parents eyed her and Blake.

Blake just kept chopping, as cool as one of the cucumbers he was hacking at. But when he stole glances at her in between whacks, his eyes blazed with heat. “Oh, I appreciate everything. Very much, in fact. I brought Sarge a thank-you gift.”

Angelique folded her arms and cocked a hip. “I sent a message to you a few days ago.”

“It just reached me late yesterday. I didn’t want to show up empty-handed, so I had to hunt down a box of treats. Your mom was kind enough to invite me to stay for Sunday brunch.”

“We’re having omelets, so can you set the table, Angelique?” her mom asked.

Hell’s bells, she couldn’t do this, couldn’t deal with Blake in front of her mother. She looked at the flour caked under her fingernails and drew in a breath. “Give me a minute to clean up.” She retreated to her room where she could regroup and think for a minute without Blake making her drool and heat in places that shouldn’t be heating this early in the morning. With her parents under the same roof. Over omelets.

When she reappeared in the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in running clothes, Blake’s gaze took another inventory of her. The sweltering look in his eyes turned the heat between her legs into liquid fire.

Her mom yammered, while issuing kitchen orders to her dad that went promptly ignored as he concentrated on the crossword puzzle. A polite nod and a blank look gave away Blake’s inability to keep up with her mother’s verbal gymnastics. If he didn’t already regret bringing Sarge the treats, he would as soon as Mom commanded him to—

“Here, Blake.” Her mom retrieved an apron from the drawer and handed it to him. “Put this on.”

Aaaand
there it was. Frilly kitchen armor. Certain to strike fear into the heart of any man.

Blake hesitated, his brow furrowed. Reaching for the apron, he looked at Angelique. She shrugged, because really, what else could she do? It was the price he’d have to pay for both ignoring her and for Mom’s home cooking. There were certain unwritten rules in the Barbetta family, and Mom calling the shots in any kitchen was one of them. Punishable by an empty stomach if broken.

Served him right, because she still didn’t know why he’d shown so little interest in the sacrifice she’d made for him and Red River. Okay, she’d made it for herself, too, but that was beside the point at the moment.

Angelique had to hand it to the guy. He tied the apron around his waist without so much as a flinch. Only the slight flush of his face showed his discomfort.

Nona walked in still in her robe. She took her sweet time looking him up and down through thick lenses. “Finally a classy choice with the hired help. That Kimberly person was of questionable moral character if you ask me. When did we hire a cook?”

Angelique nearly burst. “Oh, for the love of God.” She grabbed five placemats and turned on her grandmother. “You know exactly who Blake is. Stop pretending to be senile just so you can get away with being obnoxious.”

Nona headed for the coffeepot with a harrumph. “It was worth a shot.” She turned back to Blake and stared at the frilly apron around his midsection. “Really, Dr. Holloway, if you’re going to be part of this family, you’ve got to know when to put your foot down.”

Be part of their family?
“Nona!” Angelique hissed. Heat, and not the sexy kind that inspired fantasies of Blake wearing nothing but a stethoscope, crept up Angelique’s neck. She was going to threaten to have Nona banned from bingo night at the senior center. Nona was already on the center’s watch list. After the incident with the fire extinguisher and the male strippers who showed up during a square dancing class in full firefighter’s gear, a single anonymous phone call would totally work.

“For God’s sake, Nona,” Angelique warned. “Blake just stopped in to leave some dog treats and have breakfast.”

Nona stirred cream and sugar into her cup. “Dear, if a man will wear a lavender apron for your mother, then he wants to be a permanent fixture in your life.” Angelique and her parents all hissed at Nona simultaneously.

Blake’s Ginsu chopping slowed.

Oh God in heaven, please make her stop.

“What?” Nona asked. Lifting up one slightly cupped hand, she gave it a sharp twist through the air. The old Italian neighborhood way of saying WTF.

“Um, standing right here,” Blake said.

Angelique wasn’t sure if the look of sheer terror that spread across his face and made his eyes bulge out was because of the apron comment or the permanent fixture comment or the fact that her family was scarier than the Munsters.

Her dad looked up from his puzzle and stared at Blake over the reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. “Welcome to my world, Dr. Holloway.”

“That’s it!” Angelique had obviously reached her breaking point, because she tossed the placemats down, grabbed Blake’s arm, and hauled him outside, slamming the door behind them. She was even hotter when she was angry.

She towed him down the porch stairs and around the side of the cabin where inquiring minds couldn’t see them through the windows, and spun on him.

She just stared at him, her breaths uneven and urgent. “How could you hire scum like Fred Tipton?”

“That was the first time I’d met him in person, and Tipton was the only attorney we could afford. You’ve known our financial situation from the beginning.” Shifting his weight, Blake closed the space between them so that his inner thigh brushed the outside of hers.

“He offered to pay me for sex.” She hugged herself.

“What?”

“When Kimberly and I went to the casino a few weeks ago. He’s the guy who thought I was a prostitute.”

Blake’s fists clenched. “That’s what he was talking about?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “When he said you were a bribe?” His voice grew strained as his teeth ground together. “So that’s why you turned so vicious on a dime? It wasn’t just to win, it was because of Tipton.”

She twisted a handful of his gray thermal shirt into her fist and nodded. At least she was touching him. He liked that. Had been afraid he’d never feel it again.

“I should’ve done more than fire the bastard.”

Her gaze locked with his, the anger draining away. “You fired him?” Big black eyes rounded, and her expression turned soft. Vulnerable.

And that’s all it took to finish wrapping him completely around one of her long, slender fingers. He loved those fingers. Especially when they slid through his hair, flexed against his chest, and wrapped around his . . .

He cleared his throat. He brushed her creamy cheek with the pad of his thumb, the softness of her skin a sharp contrast to his calloused fingers. He nodded. “Yep. And just in time, too, because the small business proprietors of Red River have retained legal representation from a Ms. Kimberly Rasnick of Taos, New Mexico. I called her cell a few minutes ago. She’s a kick-ass lawyer because she’s found a way to save us.”

Angelique twisted his shirt tighter and tugged gently, looking down. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. You know, at the meeting when I turned into a shark with razor-sharp teeth. It was humiliating after how . . . intimate we’ve been. You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about
not
seeing how brutal I can be when I’m working. When I’m with you, I don’t want to be . . . as strong as I usually am. I’ve never even let myself cry in front of any man except you.”

The softness of her hair tickled his lips, and he pressed them against her temple. “There’s nothing wrong with letting someone else be strong for you once in a while.”

“It’s weak. Like wearing a pink ribbon.”

He let out an easy laugh. “Nothing about you is weak, Angelique.”

“And I’ve never willingly let anyone win until I met you.” She tapped her fisted hands against his chest. “Damn you. I used to see my courtroom demeanor and competitiveness as my biggest strengths.”

He pulled her into his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead, breathing in the soft scent of the soap she’d just showered with. “You
were
like a really well-dressed Rottweiler.”

She blew out a choked breath and buried her face in his chest. Nice. Right where he wanted her. Next to his heart.

“You were pretty hot, by the way. Except for the part where you said you would destroy me in the most painful and humiliating way.”

“I was talking to your slimy lawyer.”

“Tipton
was
creepy. Even creepier than your puppet slippers.”

She jabbed Blake in the side.

“Ouch,” he said with a laugh. “You can kiss that and make it better if you want.”

She jabbed him again.

They swayed to the breeze for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Thank you,” Blake finally said, caressing the silky hair at the back of her head. “I know how much giving me that document must’ve cost you.”

“You’re welcome,” Angelique whispered.

He tightened his arms around her. “How did your firm handle the news?”

“They don’t know yet. I’ll have to tell them first thing in the morning. Kimberly is filing the papers tomorrow as soon as the county clerk’s office opens.”

“I’d drive to Taos and bring her Tipton’s case file tonight, but I’m not sure it would help,” Blake said. “It was almost empty.”

Angelique shook her head. “Already taken care of. I gave Kimberly everything she needs.” Something akin to fear threaded through her words, something he’d never heard from her except when it came to her health. “If the firm ever finds out, nine kinds of hell will break loose.”

“The firm doesn’t need to know, and neither do any of Red River’s business owners.” Blake stroked her hair. “Everyone still thinks you’re here on vacation, and that’s the way it can stay.” He pressed a loving kiss to her cheek. “What will happen when you tell your bosses tomorrow?” he asked, but he could guess without her having to explain.