Shrewd Angel (The Christmas Angel Book 6) by Anyta Sunday

Author:Anyta Sunday [Sunday, Anyta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anyta Sunday
Published: 2018-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

For the first time, Cliff didn’t follow through with a threat—a refreshing, albeit unsettling change. They took a cab.

They sat in the back, Pax leaning against the door, forehead butting the cold window. Neither of them spoke until it was time to pay. Pax flopped back onto the seat and dug through his pocket for cash. The top of his head rubbed against Cliff’s outer thigh.

He withdrew the money as Cliff leaned between the front seats and paid.

Cliff blinked down at him.

Pax pressed the money against his chest, but Cliff ignored it, leaning over him to open the door. The hem of Cliff’s yellow dress brushed over his face, and Pax squeezed his eyes shut.

Cliff helped him scooch out of the cab and wrapped an arm around his waist as they hobbled to the sidewalk.

The cab roared up the hill, and they were left in the dark, staring through vapored breaths at Cliff’s illuminated house.

The living room window framed Luca and Henry next to the Christmas tree, Bianca out of sight, presumably in a chair with her leg propped up.

Cliff stiffened.

“Now that I think about it, 1984 woulda been a great choice for tonight.” Pax remembered to slur a little at the end.

He tried to pull away from Cliff, but Cliff doubled his hold. “Great choice?”

“You’re the ultimate big brother.”

Cliff barked out a laugh. “Right.”

“Go break them up, I’m fine.”

“You’re drunk. I’m passing you on to Luca.”

“No,” Pax said quickly. A bit too quickly.

Cliff’s brow quirked, and Pax rolled his head back onto Cliff’s shoulder so he didn’t have to see that rigidly focused gaze. “Don’t want Luca to know I’m already back tonight. Tell him you saw the band pick me up. I’ll pretend I returned early in the morning.”

A long moment where all Pax heard were Cliff’s steady breaths.

“He won’t figure it out,” Pax said hurriedly. “I’m quiet. Besides, Luca is the deepest sleeper I’ve met.”

“Why the lie?” Cliff asked somberly.

Because the truth ached, and he didn’t want to deal with it.

And . . . if Luca figured out what happened . . . would he still look up to Pax?

“It’s enough you know how . . .”

“Drunk you are?”

Pathetic. Pax forced out, “You saw the guys leave.”

Cliff said nothing. He twisted away from his gate, urging Pax toward his place.

Pax’s stomach lurched.

“But, what about the boys?” Pax said, accidentally flinging his hand against a bush as he waved it behind them. “They might stir up trouble.”

“There’s only one boy I’m worried about stirring up trouble,” Cliff murmured.

Cliff helped him up the stairs and into his bedroom. He didn’t turn on the light, but a prism of brightness cut into his bedroom from the hall, and moonlight leaked through the window, meeting the hallway light in the middle. The angel glittered on her windowsill.

The rest of his room held various depths of shadow. It smelled faintly of the deodorant Pax had sprayed on earlier.

Pax pulled out of Cliff’s warm hold and dropped onto his bed. The wooden frame cut into his calves, while the rest of him swelled on a watery wave.

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