Vivian Arend - Rocky Mountain Angel

Gabe’s jaw dropped, and a light came on in his eyes. She could see him calculating and reasoning through her suggestion. A shortcut, not everything they needed, but it would certainly help.

He snatched her up and swung her in a circle. His laughter rang out, carried down the hill and over the land. They twirled until they tangled and fell. Gabe caught her on top of him, breaking her fall.

She twisted until she straddled him. His firm body stretched out under her, the fading green grasses a cushion under them both.

He caught her hands and twirled her ring lazily. “I love you.”

Her heart leapt. The words were becoming more familiar, but she never got tired of hearing them. She lifted his fingers to her lips and kissed them briefly in response before teasing him with a pout. “You know, there is one more secret I have. Well, it’s not a secret. Only you’ve never noticed.”

He raised a brow, dropping his hands to her thighs in a caress that promised she’d soon have something to think about other than organic regulations and pieces of land.

But not before she was ready. She pointed at his ring. “Take it off.”

Gabe sat up and pulled off his shirt. Allison slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her burst of laughter from escaping. “I didn’t mean your clothes.”

“If you’re not clear, woman, I’m going to take the interpretation I like best.”

Smiling, she traced the outline of the tattoo begun on his skin. He’d had the phoenix designed to burst from flames on his lower back, one wing stretching over his left shoulder, and the other wrapping around his ribs on the right.

Said he’d been inspired by her tattoos.

“Still think you should have had the wings burst over both your shoulders,” she teased.

“Don’t need to give you more reasons to call me angel, now do I?”

“I love how I can see a piece of this no matter which way you turn.” Her fingers moved slowly along the intricate design of the feathers, colour still needing to be added.

“Everything feels new. I feel reborn. You gave me that.”

“We gave to each other.” Allison kissed his chest and tugged on his ring. “Now take it off before I hurt you.”

He humoured her, pulling the ring free, the one she’d had prepared so quickly back before she even knew this marriage was going to be real. Gabe handed it to her.

She held the plain gold band carefully at an angle. “Look. What do you see? Inside.”

Gabe leaned closer, squinting slightly as he focused in. “Butterflies? You put butterflies on the inside of my wedding ring.”

She dipped her head. “I did. Because you deserved to break free as well.”

Her cheeks were flushed. Butterflies. What had she been thinking? The glorious phoenix marking his skin was far more appropriate than the delicate little creatures she’d picked out.

Gabe slipped his ring back on. “I think that’s pretty amazing. Thank you. Thank you for wanting that for me.”

She shrugged. “It’s only butterflies.”

He caught her chin in his hands and stared into her eyes. The tenderness she saw there, the love—it made her speechless.

He brushed their lips together for a second. Spoke against her mouth. “And they only live in places that are healthy, right? So I want to see whole flocks of butterflies over this land. Over our house. If I have to tattoo butterflies on me to prove it, then I will.”

He shushed her protests and stood them both, his shirt abandoned on the ground. Allison couldn’t figure out what he was doing until he twisted his back toward her and pointed. “Look. Look closely at the fire.”

She pressed her palm to his skin, framing the section. This was the only area fully coloured. Deep crimson and brilliant gold mingled together as they rose to form the feathers covering the bird’s chest. She’d admired the tattoo a hundred times since he came home to show her.

Now for the first time she spotted it. The tiny outlines of dozens of butterflies, their wings meshing into each other’s like some drawing by Escher. A thin line of them escaping from the fire and flying upward, hidden in the plumage of the phoenix’s breast.

When he turned, she trailed her fingers over his body, not wanting to let him go.

Gabe tilted his hat back slightly. Grinned.

“Rabble,” she said.

His grin twisted. “What?”

“A rabble. A group of butterflies is called a rabble. Or a swarm, or the really pretty name is a kaleidoscop—”

He covered her mouth with his hand. “I love you, Allison.”

When he slipped his fingers off she leapt, wrapping herself around him and clinging tight. “I love you too, Angel Boy. I’m so glad you’ve found your wings.”

“We can fly together.”

Vivian Arend in one word: Adventurous. In a sentence: Willing to try just about anything once. That wide-eyed attitude has taken her around North America, through parts of Europe, and into Central and South America, often with no running water.

Her optimistic outlook also meant that when challenged to write a book, she gave it a shot, and discovered creating worlds to play in was nearly as addictive as traveling the real one. Now a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of both contemporary and paranormal stories, Vivian continues to explore, write and otherwise keep herself well entertained.

Website: www.vivianarend.com

Blog: www.vivianarend.com/blog

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