Her Shelter (Angels Halo MC Next Gen Book 6) by Terri Browning (best ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📗

him. “That’s my mom,” he signed. “Raven.” He pointed to the ones with the girl, baby, and inked man. “This is Lexa, my older sister. Her son, Finn, and her husband, Ben.”

“Finn looks like you,” I signed back, and he grinned.

“Yeah, and Ben hates it.” He gently caught hold of my wrist and tugged me toward the kitchen. Flipping on the light, he guided me over to the small island and pulled out one of the two stools. Lifting me like I weighed no more than a feather, he placed me on the seat before crossing to the fridge and pulling out containers of food.

I felt my stomach growl, and he snapped his head around with a frown. Embarrassed, I lowered my gaze to the island until he placed the containers on the counter in front of me. Tipping up my chin, he skimmed his thumb over my bottom lip for a moment.

I held my breath as his metallic eyes lowered to my mouth for the longest time, causing my heart to pound almost painfully against my rib cage. Max had to be the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen in my life—and I had the crazy idea that maybe he wanted to kiss me.

But he quickly dropped his hand and straightened. “My mom keeps my fridge stocked. I’ve got lasagna, chili, pot roast, and meatloaf,” he signed with an easy smile. “What do you feel like eating, little one?”

I glanced down at all the offered food and felt my stomach growl again, this time painfully. Wrapping my arms around my middle in hopes of easing the ache, I licked my lips. It all looked so delicious, and I couldn’t decide which one I wanted more.

When he touched my chin again, I closed my eyes, savoring the touch. When was the last time someone had touched me?

Marta hugging me before making me run away filled my head, and I had to swallow the sudden lump that clogged my throat.

Max stroked the backs of his fingers over my cheek, encouraging me to open my eyes. “You can have it all,” he assured me. “Whatever you want, just say the word.”

My teeth sank into my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. It took a few moments before I could get my emotions under control. “Can I…take a shower?”

2

Max

I stood in front of the microwave, trying not to think about the ethereal angel currently naked beneath the spray of my shower.

A part of me wondered if this was all just some dream. That maybe I was in a coma after wiping out on my bike earlier. My mom was probably standing over my hospital bed. Tubes would be coming from various parts of my body, while wires connected to machines told her I was still alive. No doubt she would have that stoic, emotionless look on her face so she could stay strong for my dad. While deep inside, she would be an emotional wreck because her baby boy was clinging to life by a thread.

But the pain along the entire right side of my body told me that this wasn’t a dream and that I was very much awake. I hadn’t examined the damage yet, but I could feel the road rash on my leg and side. Nothing seemed broken, but my ribs were no doubt bruised all to hell, and my knee was throbbing.

Yet while Delaney had been right in front of me, I hadn’t felt so much as a twinge of discomfort. My focus had been solely on taking care of her, making sure that she was unhurt, that she wasn’t frightened of me.

From the looks of her, I could tell she’d been living on the streets for a while. The sheer terror on her face when I first met her pretty brown gaze told me she was running from something—or someone.

She was dirty, hungry, and all alone.

But I would make sure she didn’t have to worry about anything ever again.

The lasagna finished heating, and I replaced it with the pot roast. With the way her eyes had lingered on both of their containers, I knew she would enjoy those the most. I reheated both of them first so they would be ready and waiting for her once she was finished showering.

Closing the microwave door, I punched in the time Mom had said to set it for and then rubbed my hand over my chest again. I felt a pressure that had been there since I first set eyes on Delaney earlier. It wasn’t painful, or even uncomfortable, but the feeling was something I was unused to. When she was close enough that I could touch her, the pressure eased somewhat, but when I didn’t have my eyes on her, it intensified.

I wasn’t sure if I should be worried about it. Mom would be able to tell me if I should go to the ER or not, get Doc to check me over. But I didn’t want her to know I’d wiped out on my way home.

And for the moment, I didn’t want her to know about Delaney. Selfishly, I wanted to keep her all to myself for a while. Get her to trust me. Let me take care of her.

That feeling was somewhat alien as well. Other than a few select people, I’d never wanted to take care of anyone besides myself. I’d only known Delaney for less than an hour, and she was already twisting me inside out.

By the time the microwave alerted me that the last container was reheated, I’d plated everything else, as well as pulled out the cake Aunt Flick had made for me and dropped off the day before. It was my favorite—lemon, with a lemon custard in the middle and a lemon cream cheese frosting. Between her and Mom, I never had to worry about cooking for myself. But if I had any hope of keeping Delaney around, I needed to figure out how to feed her without either of them