Page 6 of Angel

From his broad, muscled shoulders to his corded neck and chiseled jaw with neat stubble, he was magnificent.

Eyes piercing, smoky grey, almond-shaped; nose sculpted; and those lips, so lush.

The way he quirked them in those images eased my sadness, because his joy mattered more than my secret grief.

Last night at the rehearsal dinner, it hit me that hope’s door was closing forever.

I left early to drink wine alone in my tiny apartment, mourning Angel, still utterly in love with him, my heart ripping apart.

Holding onto him was destroying me.

I vowed then to surrender him, with a brutal, grief-soaked lucidity that was gut-wrenching to the core.

Because loving him meant accepting when to stop dragging him down the aisle of my broken dreams, even if it tore my soul to shreds.

Chapter 3

ANGEL

It’d been two hours since Evangeline Bailey Rosedale jilted me.

Two hours after she went up onto her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

Two hours from the moment she whispered the words that crushed my heart.

Minutes bled into agonizing silence, my gaze glued to the waterside lawn where she was supposed to become my wife.

I wanted to race down those stairs and hunt her to the ends of the earth, to beg her to yield, to surrender to us.

Yet for some reason, my soul refused to comply.

My phone rang several times, but I muted every call that wasn’t from her, wanting to give her every chance to reach me; to tell me it was all a big mistake.

A loud knock rattled the oak door of my suite, shattering my churning thoughts.

The digital lock pinged, and the door swung open.

Jude’s timbre rang out.

‘Brother, it’s me, using your spare room card.’

I swiveled to see him and the rest of the Six Sinners saunter into the space, their eyes flicking around with curiosity and concern.

‘Dude, you’re not answering your phone,’ Bishop rasped.

Joining me outside on the terrace, they stopped and eyed me with incredulity, still in my shorts, vest, and barefoot.

‘Mate, it’s 2 p.m., and you’re the groom for a ceremony that starts in a few hours,’ Jude growled, his brow furrowing as he eyed my bare feet and disheveled appearance. ‘Why aren’t you dressed? Where’s your tux?’

I exhaled, unable to find words at first.

My brain spun, the contrast between their pre-wedding energy and the disaster in my heart turning my stomach.

I twisted away to keep my back to them as I stared out at the glistening lake.

‘It’s all off. It’s not happening.’

‘The hell you just said?’