Chapter 7

Flynn knew that the same could be said for himself, the angel leaving his own mark. In quiet moments alone, he often found himself wondering what it all meant. Now, however, was not the time for such concerns.

“I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s perfect,” Flynn said, turning to admire the set-up a second time. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Good,” Samuel relaxed, joining him by the blanket. “Shall we?”

They settled.

Flynn watched as Samuel began to remove items from the basket—strawberries, wine, chocolates, grapes—realizing then just how much he loved watching the angel move. And here he’d thought they had left the heat of Sin City behind them. “You know, nobody has ever done this for me.”

“What?”

“All of this,” Flynn gestured with a hand. “Wooed me. Usually I’m the one doing the wooing.”

Samuel paused, those heavenly eyes locking onto Flynn’s. “I would like to think that I’m different from those…others.”