Chapter 2
Sneak Peek! Undone at Midnight, Chapter Two:
Angel White gripped her cellphone so hard, she feared it might break. Only two words screamed through her head: Game night.
Game night, game night, game night.
Game night?
Henry stood up a step from her, a tall, imposing figure with such a handsome face.
Big hands too. That deep, sexy voice, which said, “We were going to get dinner in Stinnett. We could do that, or I could—you could—we could meet here and go straight to game night. It’s at my cousin’s farm in Three Rivers, so it’s a bit of a drive.
” He took a quick breath. “A little over an hour.”
A little over an hour, trapped in a truck with Henry Marshall.
She wanted to go so badly, she almost started crying.
At the same time, the rational, calm side of Angel’s brain told her she’d been in desperate need of a break from this ranch for a month now.
Anyone who asked her would elicit the same reaction.
Bottom line: Henry wasn’t special.
He fell back a step. “Sorry I said anything,” he said. “Can we forget it? Flint, Clay and Whit said they’d come check on Levi. I’ll just cancel on game night and go see my folks.” He pulled out his phone and started typing.
“…not going…to be able to…make it tonight…”
Angel slapped her hand over his phone, knocking it clean out of his hand. Henry yelped, and they both watched his device skitter across the floor. “What was that for?” He turned and moved a couple of steps to pick up his phone.
He looked at her, pure accusation in those beautiful eyes. “You broke my phone.”
Humiliation streamed through Angel, and combined with her sheer exhaustion and ultimate desperation for a break from everything happening in her personal life, with her family, and on the ranch, an instant, emotional tornado spiraled into existence.
“I—” Tears spilled from her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Henry.” She couldn’t stand to look at him, but she couldn’t move either. She covered her face with both of her hands and sobbed into her palms.
Henry said something, but the words couldn’t penetrate her turmoil. She fell into the warmth and safety of his arms, and she distinctly knew the door had closed, sealing her in his house.
He sat her down on the couch and pressed in close to her. He said soothing things and put his arm around her. Finally, after what felt like a long time, but was probably only a few breaths, his voice reached her ears.
“…talk to me, okay, Angel? You’re okay, Angel, and you can talk to me, okay?”
She lifted her head and lowered her hands. “I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you a new phone.”
“I don’t care about the phone.”
Angel looked at him. “What?”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, because it’s so something my daddy said to me five thousand times growing up.
” He flashed her a smile, and her curiosity about his family life, his past, his childhood rose up the ranks.
“But Angel, I don’t care about the phone; I care about you. Are you okay?”
“I am obviously not okay,” she said, giving him a squinty-eyed look.
“Obviously,” he fired right back. “But I mean, can I help you? I didn’t mean to stress you by asking you to game night. It’s—”
“I want to go,” she blurted out.
His eyebrows rose, and Angel couldn’t stand sitting this close to him. Rather, she wanted to be closer, but she didn’t trust herself. “I—”
She jumped to her feet. “I need to get off this ranch,” she said, pacing away from him.
Moving while she talked really helped get her brain to work better.
“Things are so stressful right now, and there’s so much going on with Trevor’s doctor’s appointments, and Daddy started coughing last week, and I have to get off this ranch. ”
She faced him and ran her hands through her hair. “So if you’ll give me ten minutes to wash my face and get it fixed again, I’m ready to go.”
Henry hadn’t gotten to his feet, and he watched her from his perch on the couch. A moment passed before he said, “You can have nine minutes.”
Angel blinked and then laughter bubbled up from inside her.
She honestly could not remember the last time she’d laughed, and Henry had just given her a great gift.
Excitement to get off the ranch—with him—flowed through her as the laughter cleansed her from the debilitating feelings that had brought on the crying.
“You might want to reconsider,” she said. “I am very competitive at games.”
“You might want to reconsider,” he said. “It’s couples game night, and we might have to do…things we don’t want to do.”
“Like what?”
“I honestly have no idea,” he said. “My cousin and his wife pick the game, but it’s been made very clear that we need an even number of people for tonight.”
Angel’s chin quivered, but she wasn’t sure from what. Another bout of crying? The thrill of going off the ranch with Henry? Pure desperation? “I have to get off this ranch,” she whispered.
“The clock’s ticking,” he said, and he did get up then and open the door for her. “Let me drive you back to your place.”
She didn’t protest, and Henry backtracked to get his truck keys.
He opened her door for her, and he got her down the lane and around the corner to her house, which sat a hundred yards from her parents’ homestead.
Only thirty from Trevor’s place, and fifteen from where their three full-time senior farriers lived.
“Six minutes,” he said, and Angel flew from the truck. She could change her clothes, swipe on some deodorant, wash her face, paint some gloss on her lips, and grab some earrings and be ready to go.
Her heart pounded through all of it, and she had no idea how long she’d been inside her house before she yanked open the front door and flew out of it again.
This time, she wore a pretty blue dress with white dragonflies flitting around on it, a pair of white sandals, pink lip gloss, and she carried a pair of silver hoops in her hand.
She stuck them in her pocket as she walked across her porch, and she used the remaining walk to Henry’s truck to run her hands through her hair and get it settled in the right place. So many pieces of her life felt fake, and Angel vaulted back into Henry’s truck with his gaze stuck to her.
He had to see her—really see her—and that idea struck Angel’s heart with pure fear.
“You look great,” he said simply, and then he put the truck in reverse and backed out of the small parking area in front of her house.
“Thank you.” She buckled and managed to get her earrings in. “Is my hair straight?” She faced him, her pulse like a gong being banged on over and over and over again. “It’s not my real hair, and I need more than six minutes to make it look normal.”
“It’s not your real hair?”
“No,” she said, when she could’ve said so much more. The truth was, she was going bald. Her. A woman. Her hair had thinned considerably in the past three years, and Angel had started wearing extensions right away.
However, those only broke the little hair she had, damaging it further. So she’d moved to wigs, and she’d settled on one that looked the most like her natural hair. She’d bought five of them, and she rotated them to make sure they could be cleaned, repaired, or replaced.
With horror, she realized she’d never told anyone she wore a wig. Not even her recent boyfriends had known. “Does it look okay?” she asked, reaching up to run her fingers through it again, trying to make sure the part sat right and the hair fell down correctly.
“It’s gorgeous,” Henry said, turning to look out the windshield again. He cleared his throat once and then twice. “Where do you want to go to eat?”
“Where were you and Levi going to go?”
“There’s a great little pub in Stinnett,” he said. “The Gas Light. It’s not too loud this early in the evening, and the food is phenomenal.”
“Pub food.”
“They have great burgers and chicken,” he said. “But they have amazing pizza too. And a really great mac and cheese.” He glanced over to her. “Great big salads with roast beef. That kind of thing.”
“You’ve ordered a great big salad with roast beef from this pub place?”
“I’ve been with people who have.”
“Women.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you seeing anyone right now?”
“If I was, I’d be taking them to the couples game night,” he shot back. “Not my cabinmate.” He glared at her. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”
She folded her arms. “No.”
“Great. Neither am I. I haven’t dated since I came to Lone Star, in fact.”
“Why not?” From what Angel knew of Henry, which admittedly wasn’t much, he’d dated a lot during farrier school.
He shifted in his seat and looked out his side window. “Maybe I don’t get off the ranch as much as I should either.” He faced her and cocked one eyebrow at her. Almost as quickly, he softened. His grip on the steering wheel loosened, and he reached toward her.
But he pulled back before he made it even halfway to her, and Angel had no idea what she’d do if he tried to hold her hand. Or touch her. “I’m worried about you, Angel.”
“I’m okay.” She cinched her arms around her midsection and watched the landscape flow toward them and around them as he drove. “I just get overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t you ever feel like you’re just drowning?”
“Sometimes, yes,” he said quietly.
Angel couldn’t get air to go down the right way. Thankfully, it only lasted for a moment, and then her lungs and windpipe worked just fine. She breathed in, swallowed, and kept her gaze out the windshield.
“What do you do when you feel like that?” She felt him looking at her, but she steadfastly refused to meet his gaze.
“Honestly?” He sighed like she was asking him to cut off a hand and lend it to her for a while. “I’m a momma’s boy. When I feel like I’m drowning, I go home to my momma.”
Tears pressed into her eyes. “That sounds so nice, Henry.”
“I’m really sorry about your mom,” he said. In the next moment, before Angel could tell him it was okay, that she’d finally accepted that her mother wasn’t going to get better, he slammed on the brakes.