Saving Grace

Chapter 7

Weddings are terrible when you want to get married and you don't.

Oh please, be over faster. Grace needed an assignment. Action, adventure, time away from flowers, table arrangements and pale colors. She'd loved helping Faith plan her wedding. Heck, she'd even gotten a ton of ideas for her own, but it had been a week since she last held a weapon. And to top it all off, she hated her outfit. Her dress looked like someone had puked lemonade on it and the white flats were just terrible. She eyed the closet door. Her red platform heels were in there.

A knock on the door startled her out of trying to decide whether to change her shoes or not. Faith was still in the bathroom, doing Heaven knew what. Grace shrugged and opened the door.

Nate stood on the other side wearing a long, white robe. Being one of the oldest, most important Angels, he'd offered to officiate the ceremony. Faith had almost fainted with delight when he'd mentioned it. Grace hated the robe. It made him look serious and unapproachable.

He tilted his head. "What?"

"I hate the robe." Okay, she should've maybe said it with a little more tact, but she was on the edge already. Faith's wedding jitters had been flying through the apartment for the past two days.

Nate quirked a brow. "I'm not a big fan of it either. It's very hot inside."

She smiled, grateful that he didn't go into lecture mode. To be honest, he hadn't done that in weeks. Their middle ground was solid and steady.

Nate pulled the robe over his head to reveal a white suit and light-blue tie. "Better." He tossed it over his shoulder. "I feel formal and stuffy in it." He leaned toward her, a crooked smile on his lips. He smelled so good.

Grace batted her eyelashes and lowered her chin. "You look much better without it."

"Love your dress." He pulled her out of the apartment, into the hallway. The door closed behind her. "I'm glad you didn't pick a long one."

"Faith actually picked it out." Including the albino lemon color. At her wedding, Faith was wearing molting-hamster-with-terminal-disease-tan.

"Faith has good taste, then." His lips covered hers. For a moment, it was nothing but a sweet kiss. Then, Nate's arms wrapped tightly around her. Grace's skin tingled as he pressed her against the wall, his mouth firmly on hers. And she loved it, wanted so much more. Her body was in limbo, begging to jump to the next step. Her imagination took the kiss much further. An itching sensation spread across her shoulder blades.

"Ah, shit!" She pushed Nate away. More itching accompanied her remark. Her dress was open-back. Everyone would see her rash.

"What happened?" Nate looked half-worried, half-amused.

"How bad is it?" She turned around.

"Oh, honey, that's what you get for cursing."

"It didn't happen from cursing. Not most of it, at least. How bad?"

Nate chuckled. "What did you do then?"

She turned and scowled at him. "What do you think? How do I make it go away?"

Nate laughed. She slapped his shoulder. He wasn't helping at all.

"Try thinking things that make the first thoughts right."

Grace squinted, then closed her eyes. Make it right. Hmmm... I will marry Nate and, even if I want a lot more from him, I will be good and wait patiently. Unexpectedly, it worked. The itch subsided. Oh, and I'm sorry I cursed. I'll try to control myself next time.