I scoff at him. “I don’t believe in guardian angels.”

“I can understand why you don’t, given what you went through when you were young.”

“It’s not that, though you raise a good point. I just don’t believe in any of that stuff.”

“Fair point. I didn’t either, for my own reasons. I was older than you. Thirty-five. I remember because I’d just met your mother.”

Funny. At the time, I didn’t know Dad had been through something similar. How could he possibly believe in guardian angels either?

Aren’t parents supposed to protect their children? If my own father sold me off like chattel, how the hell could I believe in guardian angels?

My own father.

The words strike a chord in my head. In my heart.

My own father.

Floyd Jolly may have sold Donny and me, but my own father, Talon Steel, rescued us.

I sit here at the old dive bar, nursing the same rotgut that scorched my throat over a decade ago, waiting for my guardian angel. Someone to tell me I can live with everything. That Ashley and I can make it. That the past doesn’t matter.

I imagine some old-timer named Mike or Deke or Harold or Earl sidling up to the bar, letting me buy him a drink and imparting some wisdom that will change my life.

Instead, a young woman ambles up to me. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hey.”

“Buy a girl a drink?”

She’s dressed in a denim miniskirt and a faux-fur jacket. She’s attractive enough, brunette with brown eyes, and gold hoops dangle from her earlobes. It’s her lipstick that gives her away. It’s bright red, and it doesn’t work on her.

“Not interested,” I say.

“A hundred bucks, and I’ll do anything you want.”

I signal the barkeep. “Get the lady what she wants.”

“Now you’re talking.” Her voice is husky. She must be a smoker. “I’ll have a vodka tonic, Newly.”

Newly slides her drink over.

“You got a place to go?” she asks.

“Still not interested.” I flash my left hand at her.

She guffaws. “You think I care if you’re married?”

“You may not”—I clear my throat—“but I do. Enjoy the drink.” I throw some bills on the counter and walk out.

No guardian angel. No wisdom.

Only rotgut whiskey and now a headache.

“Hey, girl.” I fluff Penny’s head, and she sniffs my legs for several minutes. Smelling the cat, no doubt. I’m oddly happy about finding a home for Floyd’s cat, despite the throbbing in my temples.

I did a good thing, finding the kitty a home.

I wish it made me feel better about what I’m going to do now.

It doesn’t.

I let Penny out, drink a glass of water, and let her back in for the night. Then I walk to the bedroom.

Ashley is asleep on my side of the bed, her head cuddled in the fluffy pillow. Her hair is fanned out like a yellow curtain, and her cheeks are the lightest pink. Penny curls up on her bed in the corner, turns around twice, and settles in with a happy groan.

I want to wake Ashley.

Wake her and finally make love to her the way she deserves. I’ve had good intentions before—to do it slowly, sweetly—and I’ve never been able to slow down enough to lavish the attention on her that she deserves.

I want to. I want to so badly.

Especially because…

Tomorrow…

Tomorrow, she’ll hate me after I say what needs to be said.

But she’s sleeping so soundly, like an angel.

I can’t disturb such peaceful innocence. Not when I’m about to shatter it tomorrow.

I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash up, and then I remove my clothes and put on a pair of lounge pants.

I tiptoe to the other side of the bed and get in. I try not to disturb her, but—

“Mmm… Hey, you.” She snuggles into my shoulder.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

“I love you,” she says. “I love you so much. Nothing you can ever say or do will change that.”

Where’s this coming from?

I have no idea, but it’s only going to make tomorrow harder.

Hell, nothing can make it harder than it already is.

It’s going to break my heart and hers.

“Love me,” she says softly.

“I do. I love you.”

“Mmm. Not what I mean. Make love to me.”

My dick responds abruptly.

Maybe I can.

I’ll do it this time. Make love to her the way I’ve dreamed of. The way she deserves.

I get rid of my pants quickly and efficiently. Ashley’s already naked, so no worries there. I climb on top of her, grab both her wrists and secure her arms above her head. I hold her there, bracing my own weight so I don’t crush her.

Then I kiss her.

I begin slowly, ignoring my throbbing dick. I lick her lips, first the top and then the bottom, sucking its plumpness between my teeth. Then I ease my tongue between her lips, swirling it around her silky mouth.

She responds, kissing me back, and though my instinct is to deepen the kiss, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m determined to go slowly.

To relish this last moment with her.

For tomorrow…

But I won’t think about that now. No. This is me loving my wife. God, my wife.

What was I think—

No. This time I deepen the kiss. I need to keep thoughts at bay. I want to feel, only feel. I want her to feel, only feel.

I want to make this something she’ll remember always.

I leave her lips then and trail kisses over her perfect jawline, across her cheek to her earlobe. I suck the lobe into my mouth and tug.

She groans.

God, her flesh is like silk against my lips and tongue.

So soft and supple.

How can I—

No.

I slide downward, then, over her chest and to her breasts, where I lick one hard nipple. Her hips rise, and my cock tightens further.

She spreads her legs. An offering. She wants me to slide inside her. So tempting, but I suck on her nipple instead, eliciting sweet moans of satisfaction from her. What color are they? To me, they’re a soft pink, but that’s only my imagination. She actually sees color in sounds.

She’s so wonderful.

“Mmm,” she says softly. “Inside me. Please.”