His hand paused at it touched her cheek. “You’ve got a little something right here.” His index finger dabbed at something just under her right eye. Angel reached up with a sticky hand to grab hold of his. “Peter, I have to talk to you.” She squeezed his knuckles until the ache in her heart began to cease. “There’s so much I need to tell you. So much I—”
He smiled. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“But I have to. You don’t understand,” she started.
“You don’t have to say anything else, Angelina Fuentes.”
She let go of his hand immediately. “You know my name?”
“You are the voice of the angels, aren’t you?” He gave her a goofy grin.
She buried her head into sticky palms and groaned. “Yes. I mean, that’s what they call me, anyway. But I’m no angel. At least I haven’t been where you’re concerned. I’m pretty sure you think I’m just awful.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. In fact, I think I see a halo right over here.” He pointed at something shimmering in the distance.
“My keys!”
“Yep.” He reached to pick them up.
“Looks like you’ve saved me.” Angel’s gaze fell and her voice softened slightly as she added, “Again.”
“No. I don’t think so.” He suddenly looked embarrassed. “I’d have to say this time you saved me.” He extended his hand in her direction.
“What do you mean?” She took the keys but refused to let go of his hand. She might never let go again. She began to loosen her grip only when she noticed his eyes beginning to water.
“All my life I’ve prided myself on not being prideful,” he said finally. “Then I had to go and meet someone like you—someone who lives to help others.” Peter’s gaze shifted downward.
“Me?” She gasped. “What about you? You work at that feeding center. You take care of those children.”
His cheeks flushed. “How did you know all of that?” Peter asked.
A sudden burst of laughter unified them for one cockeyed moment, but ended suddenly. Immediately, Angel knew what would happen next. They moved awkwardly toward one another, and gently brushed lips together for a shy kiss. Then they separated for a moment. When Angel saw tears forming in his eyes once again, her heart surged.
Peter wrapped a sticky arm around her neck and drew her close for a kiss that settled any unanswered questions in her mind.
He loosened his hold on her slightly. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
“What? Oh, Peter.” She planted tender kisses on his damp lashes, then traced the tear stains down to his lips once again.
“But, I misjudged you,” he whispered. “I thought you were –” He couldn’t seem to make himself say the words.
“A liar?”
“Well, yeah. And a little more.” He paused. “Angel, I’ve been falling for you for a week and I didn’t even know who you were. Is that crazy?”
“Did you say falling for me?” He nodded and she reached for his hand. “Peter, I’m so sorry I couldn’t let you know the real me. I didn’t mean to deceive you. I was just. . .stuck.”
“I know.” He paused and her nerves kicked in as he gently touched her cheek with the back of her hand.
“You what?”
“Angel, I don’t know any other way to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” She held her breath and waited.
“I know that God has brought us together for some reason,” he said finally.
“Agreed.”
“And on some level, we’ve both been rescued this week. Me from my pride and you from those guys up on the fourth floor.”
“I can’t believe I thought you actually worked for them.” She groaned.
“I can’t believe I thought you were a criminal. One of the prettiest criminals I’ve ever met, by the way. Just in case I haven’t said it before.”
Angel felt her cheeks heat up. He reached to plant a light kiss on each cheek, then grabbed her hand.” “What do you say we get out of here and find someplace to get cleaned up? I think it’s time you and I had a good, long talk.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Peter’s heart raced as the makeup crew plastered what they called pancake makeup all over his face. He sneezed a couple of times as a layer of powder went on top. “Are you sure all of this is necessary?” He gave himself a once-over in the mirror and groaned. “It’s just a two-minute segment.”
“It’s necessary, trust me.” Angel spoke from the chair next to his. “Better get used to it. With as much community service as you do, you’ll probably end up on the news a lot.” She winked and his heart melted, as always.
“Now that I have my own personal reporter, you mean?” How much more could I ask for?
The woman he loved looked over with a shrug and took his hand. He gave it a squeeze. Then he sat in silence, listening to the sound of her voice as she gave instructions to the cameraman. She radiated self-assurance. Her voice, her poise, her gentle assertions—they all amazed and delighted him.
For several months, Peter and Angel had grown to know one another, truly know one another. Their love had blossomed beyond his wildest imaginings and had surpassed anything he could have hoped or prayed for. God had surprised him with the love of his life.
And now, on the day the city of Galveston had chosen to honor him publicly for his community service, he had a little surprise of his own.
***
Angel felt a tap on her shoulder and turned immediately. “Oh, Peter. You startled me.”
“Sorry.” His hands trembled slightly as he took hold of hers.
“Are you okay? Not nervous are you?” She wrapped her arm around his waist and laid her head on his chest.
“Um, a little.”
That would explain the pounding chest. “First time on T.V.?” She looked up to gauge his response.
His face lit up. “I was almost in a peanut butter commercial once.”
“Almost?” He was full of stories. “Peter, you’re funny.”
“No, really. I didn’t do it because I was too scared. But my dad is happy I’m finally making my television debut.” He grinned.
“So, you told him?” she asked.
“Yep. He’ll be watching. Said he’s taping it.”
Angel knew how wonderful Peter felt about the improvements in the relationship with his father over the past few months. They had prayed about it almost from the beginning of their own relationship.
“Well, it won’t be long now.” She glanced at her watch. “We’re on in just a few minutes.”
“I know.” He shaking intensified, and Angel wondered if he might be sick.
“There is this one little thing I need to take care of first,” he explained.
He turned the other way and for a brief moment, Angel thought he might flee the room. Is he really that scared? She reached out to touch his arm. “I don’t know if you’ll have time right now. Can it wait?”
“Nope. ‘Fraid not.”
Lord, help him. Please.
He turned back toward her. In his trembling hand he held a tiny box, wrapped in silver paper with a delicate gold bow. He extended it in her direction.
“What’s this?” she whispered.
“For you.”
She took it with some confusion. “It’s not even Christmas yet,” she pouted. “Besides, I don’t have your gift.”
“We’re on in four minutes,” the stage manager whispered into her headset. Angel nodded, and turned her attention back to Peter.
He shrugged. “This is just a little something I picked up awhile back. Thought you could use it now.”
“Right now?” He nodded and she quickly opened the box and pulled out a delicate glass angel. Her heart softened immediately as she held it in her palm for a closer look. “Oh, it’s so pretty. Where did you get this?”
“At a shop in Galveston.” He bit his lip. “I thought maybe you could hang it on your tree.”
“I love
angels,” she exclaimed.
“I know. Me too.” He grinned mischievously and drew her close.
“Thank you so much.” She quickly reached to plant tiny kisses on his cheeks. Then she lifted the tiny glass figure up for a closer look. “She’s beautiful.”
“So is this Angel.” Peter leaned in for a kiss that almost knocked her off of her feet. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to the moment.
The stage manager interrupted their privacy with another hoarse whisper. “Three minutes.”
Angel quickly pulled away from Peter and pressed the ornament back in the box. “Thanks for the gift,” she whispered. “I owe you.”
He took the box, re-opened it and held the delicate glass cherub up once again. Angel felt herself growing a little impatient with him. “What are you doing, Peter?” she asked. “We’re about to go on.”
He shrugged. “For an investigative reporter, you’re sure not very good at scoping out the details.” He twirled it around so close to her face that she found herself cross-eyed.
“What do you mean?”
His eyes twinkled merrily. “Have another look.”
Angel quickly glanced at the angel once again but noticed nothing unusual.
“Two minutes,” the stage manager whispered.
“Her halo is a little smaller than yours,” Peter said with a smile. “And it’s probably a little looser, too.”
Angel looked down at the tiny gold halo and noticed for the first time the beautiful sparkling stones lining the front. The shimmer of the larger center stone caused her heart to leap and Angel realized in one moment what she had missed all along.
“You see,” Peter said, as he untied a tiny white ribbon and loosed the beautiful ring, “I thought my Angel could use a little embellishment.” The corners of his lips turned up as he held the engagement ring on the tip of his index finger for her approval. “If she’ll have me, that is.” He dropped to his knee and reached for her hand. Around her, people began to stir. Anxious eyes glanced their way. “Will you, Angel?”
The stage manager’s voice interrupted her thoughts with his crisp instructions. “One minute. Take your places please.”
Angel could hardly catch her breath. “Oh, Peter.”
“Is that your final answer?” The edges of his lips curled down in a rehearsed pout.
“No! I mean, yes!” she squealed. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” The studio erupted into spontaneous applause and Angel felt her cheeks redden immediately.
Her heart could hardly contain the joy as Peter slipped the ring on her finger then stood to wrap her in his arms.
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. Where the scripture came from, she had no idea.
Ah yes. The book of James. First chapter. God did, indeed, have a sense of humor.
The lights overhead came on, nearly blinding her. She and Peter took their mark. He reached to kiss her once again and she found herself losing all track of time. The show didn’t matter. The story didn’t matter. All that mattered were the two of them. The lights grew brighter still, and Angel pulled back to look into Peter’s eyes. Like her own, they were full of tears.
Funny, with the light streaming through his blonde hair like that, he almost looked like…
Nah. He was just a man. But what a man. And what a miracle the Lord had seen fit to share him with her.
“I love you,” she whispered, as she reached to wipe away fresh tears.
“I love you more.” He squeezed her hand in response.
The stage manager spoke his final instructions as Angel and Peter locked hands and hearts. “You’re on in three, two, one. . .”
Together, they turned to face the light.
Thank you for reading Angel Incognito, Book Five in the Texas Weddings series. If you haven’t read the first four books, you will find them here:
Texas Weddings I & II
Texas Weddings III & IV
Now enjoy a fun short story also set in Texas, Deep in the Heart of Mayhem.
Deep in the Heart of Mayhem
A Short Cozy Mystery Set in the Texas Hill Country
by
Janice Thompson
DEDICATION
To my four daughters: Randi, Courtney Rae, Megan and Courtney Elizabeth. Four weddings in four years? Gracious! Did you really have to do that to your poor Mama? This mother-of-the-bride was exhausted. But oh, what fun we had pulling off such lovely ceremonies. . .and all in Texas, the best place in the world for chaos. . .and for weddings!
A Note from the Author
Welcome to the Texas Hill Country, y’all! It’s the perfect place for love, weddings, and mayhem!
Brooke Morrow never dreamed she would end up coordinating a wedding for Hollywood starlet, Matti Maynor. Against her better judgment, she finds herself organizing the wedding of the century. It doesn’t help that Matti is marrying Texas senator, Jake Bradford, who happens to be Brooke’s ex. Between the bride and the altar stands a whodunit complicated enough to send even the best sleuth running for the hills. Can Brooke survive the twists and turns while coordinating a wedding she’d sooner avoid? Will the whodunit be solved in time for the big day?
Chaos blooms likes a field of Texas bluebonnets in this quirky short story by wedding coordinator (and mother-of-the-bride) Janice Thompson.
Deep in the Heart of Mayhem
If someone had told me I would have ended up coordinating a wedding for the infamous Matti Maynor, I would’ve said they were crazy. And if I’d known a whodunit stood between the bride and the altar, I probably would’ve run for the hills.
The saga began on a glorious spring day in the heart of the Texas hill country. The bluebonnets covered the fields in heavenly clusters of blue. They provided the perfect distraction as I made the drive from Round Top to nearby Brenham.
Once there, I happened into Priscilla’s Petals where I caught sight of Mrs. Bradford, my ex-boyfriend’s mother, standing at the counter. I overheard her tell Priscilla that Jake—the same gorgeous, loveable Jake who’d broken my heart at age nineteen—was going to marry Matti Maynor, Hollywood’s most sought-after female star. I knew they’d been dating. Who didn’t? But. . .married?
Okay, so I don’t mind admitting, I felt a streak of jealousy. From the time Jake and I were fourteen, we’d planned our wedding at the Festival Institute in Round Top. And now, according to Mrs. B., Jake and Matti had just rented the facility for their big day. And they just happened to be looking for a wedding coordinator.
“Brooke, you’re the perfect choice.” Mrs. B.’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “No one knows Jakey like you do. Why, you two practically grew up together. You were there when he graduated from A&M, and you were the first one to call him when he was elected to the senate.”
Yep, that’s me. Dedicated.
I cleared my throat. “Mrs. B., I don’t know. I’ve only coordinated local weddings. Small-town stuff. Something of this magnitude will require a person with more experience. Besides, I’ve never even been to Hollywood. I wouldn’t have a clue what a person like Matti Maynor likes.” Other than my ex-boyfriend, I mean.
“She’s going to be here this weekend, and can tell you all about it.”
“But surely she’s already hired a coordinator in L.A. Right?”
“No.” Mrs. B. shook her head. “She’s had so many run-ins with the paparazzi that she was so afraid they would find out. You and Priscilla are the first people to hear about the wedding, outside of that annoying agent of hers. And Aubree, her mother.” Mrs. Bradford rolled her eyes then squeezed my hand again. “I hope I have your word that you won’t leak the story. They would absolutely kill me, and think of what it would do to Jake’s political career. He’s up for reelection soon, you know.”
“Right. I would never do that to him.”
Ugh. Bittersweet feelings washed over me afresh. Still, what could
a girl do? I’d been jilted in love, and now I had to plan my ex-boyfriend’s wedding. Looked like I had better swallow my pride and get to work
***
I’d seen Matti Maynor in movies, naturally, but never in person. And though I’d done everything I could to prepare myself emotionally, I still struggled when the gorgeous blond walked in the room. The Barbie doll physique threw me a little. So did the defined bone structure and sleek makeup job. I’d figured the photos I’d seen of her were touched up. Obviously not.
She laid her purse on the table and looked around the decor. “What a quaint bed and breakfast. I’ve never seen such a darling place.”
“Out of the way, so hopefully no one will figure out you’re here.” I stuck out my hand. “I’m Brooke Morrow, by the way.”
“Oh, Brooke!” Her eyes glistened. “Jake has told me so much about you. I know we’re going to be friends. And I can’t thank you enough for taking us on with such short notice. Do you really think we can pull this off in ten days?”
“We can and we will.” I did my best to sound confident. “I’ve lived in this area all my life and know the Festival Institute like the back of my hand. I also happen to know every caterer, cake decorator, alterations lady or florist without a hundred miles.”
“Perfect.” Her dazzling white smile nearly blinded me.
“What sort of place is this?” A female voice, laced with irritation, rang out from behind us.
I turned to face a woman—probably in her fifties—with Clairol blond hair and an overly botoxed face. She’d had her eyes done. I recognized the upward tilt. And those lips. Seriously? I hadn’t seen that much collagen since the ‘90s.
“Mama, this is Brooke.” Matti smiled. “And Brooke, this is my Mama, Aubree Maynor.”
“I tried to make a call,” the woman added, completely ignoring the introductions, “but the reception is awful. And have you seen the rooms we’re supposed to stay in? They’re old and outdated. Faded quilts on the beds? They couldn’t afford new?”