How to Kiss a Bad Boy

by Ashby, Amanda

  It was her doing.

  He squashed the idea. Black and white was better. Safer. He knew where he was with a pencil in his hand.

  He let out a shuddering breath. He shouldn’t even be here. This was Frankie’s place. Somewhere that brought her closer to her mom.

  If she saw him there, it would probably taint it.

  He slowly got to his feet. It was time to go home and get some sleep. He needed to be alert tomorrow when he went to see Tania’s father about a job.

  He shouldn’t have quit without having more work lined up. But as their fight went round and round in his head, he knew it was the only option.

  And it hadn’t been a fight. It had been him hurting someone who deserved better.

  I did the right thing to end it.

  It had become his mantra. Say it enough times and he wouldn’t be tempted to change his mind. He dusted away the sand. Breaking waves sang in chorus with the early evening animals as he reached the parking lot. From now on he had to stay away from this place. Leave it for Frankie.

  He gave a sharp nod of his head in farewell and reached for the jacket in the backseat. He shrugged it on and a key fell out. Hell. It was the key for Rosie. He’d forgotten all about it.

  He needed to give it back. To draw a line under everything.

  Lo’s number was still on his recent calls. From when he’d taken the coward’s way out and told her he was quitting. No doubt she’d now had the whole story from Frankie. It wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, but he had to do it.

  There was no answer, so he put the key back in his jacket and started the car engine. One more trip to the good part of Cricket Bay, then he’d be done for good.

  The Sunday night traffic was light, so half an hour later he pulled up into the leafy suburb. There were no lights on, and Frankie’s front garden, where the realities of his life had sledgehammered their way into his brain, was covered in shadows.

  Should he just leave it in the mailbox and send her a text message?

  It would be a hell of a lot easier than having to face Lo, who would be—

  Mailbox it was. He climbed out of the car and steeled himself. All he had to do was cross the road. Then it would all be over. He took a step, and another, until he reached the curb.

  Like everything else of Lo’s, the mailbox was in mint nineteen-fifties condition and was built like a miniature house with a long sloping roof. His fingers tightened on the keys, and he leaned down so he was face to face with the slot.

  “Honey, whatever you’re trying to leave for them, they won’t get it.”

  He stiffened and stood back up to face a tiny woman who only came up to his shoulder. Her white hair was in a buzz cut, and even in the darkness her eyes were bright. There was a small dog at the end of the leash in her hand. He vaguely recognized her as the next-door neighbor.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t heard?” She tilted her head. “I’ve seen you and Frankie together lately and figured you’d know they were at the hospital.”

  Hospital?

  Blood roared in his temples. His fingers tightened around the key. “What happened? Is it Frankie?”

  “No, no, it’s not your girl. It’s Lo. She had a cardiac arrest. The ambulances were here an hour ago.”

  “Is she okay?”

  The tiny woman’s face tightened, and her eyes dimmed. “I don’t know. Johnny promised he’d call as soon as there was news.”

  “Thanks.” His head pounded. Cardiac arrest? That’s how Frankie’s mom died.

  The old woman gave him a sad smile and shuffled toward her house. He waited until she was safely indoors and then rubbed his hand through his hair. He should just put the key into the mailbox and go home. It wasn’t his business. He had no right to care. To be worried.

  Hell. He stalked back to the car, fired up the engine, and drove down the street. The turn to lead him back to the Boards was to the right, but before he could stop himself, he flicked on the signal and turned left.

  Toward Cricket Bay’s only hospital.

  12

  The clock on the wall marked every second with a soft tick. It had been the only thing that had stopped Frankie from completely losing it. Just listen to the clock and remember to breathe. She shifted in the dull green chair in the waiting room and tried to erase the vision that haunted her. Lo’s white face and shallow breathing.

  The doctors had confirmed it was a cardiac arrest.

  The same thing that killed my mom—

  No. She wasn’t allowed to go down that rabbit hole. She returned her focus to the wall clock.

  Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

  She ran a hand through her hair. It was probably frizzy thanks to all the sweat on the long drive in the ambulance. She didn’t care. What was the point of controlling her hair, when she couldn’t control her life?

  What if something happened to Lo?

  She’d be all alone.

  “Hey, Frank.” Johnny appeared with two cups of coffee from a machine. He passed her one and sat down. His face, always long and skinny, was drained of color, and it was like he’d aged ten years. Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back.

  “Thanks.” She clutched at the cup. The watered-down caffeine mixed with a waxy smell, and her stomach churned.

  “So, I just saw Dr. Grieg. They’re going to put a stent in her heart and will be prepping her in an hour. It’s a real simple operation, and she’s in the best hands. There’s no reason that she can’t go home in a couple of days. He said we can see her, but only one at a time. You go first.”

  “Are you sure?” Her fingers tightened around the cup.

  “Never more sure of anything. She’ll want to see you first,” he said. No resentment, no jealousy. Just a fact. She’d never had a doubt Lo was going to marry a nice guy, and if anything proved it, this was it.

  “Thank you. I was so scared,” she whispered.

  “I know you were, sweetheart,” he said, his face still deathly pale. “But she’s okay. That’s all you need to remember. You Hargreaves are hard to slow down.”

  This time she didn’t stop the tears as she hugged him.

  The sickly scent of disinfectant trailed her as she walked down the sterile hallway. Nurses walked past pushing carts, having hushed conversations.

  She reached the room and stepped in. Lo was propped against a starchy white pillow and covered in sheets. She was hooked up to beeping machines that flickered and flashed with red lights. Her dark hair was pushed flat against her brow, and the lipstick she always wore was gone, but somehow she still looked exactly the same.

  Alive.

  Frankie’s eyes prickled again, and she rushed to the bed. Lo’s arms wrapped around her.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” Lo murmured, her voice croaky. “Turns out I’m not unstoppable. Who knew?”

  “I don’t think I’m ready for jokes yet.” Frankie let out a watery laugh and finally straightened up, not letting go of her aunt’s hand. “I was so worried.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry to have scared you. Especially after what happened to your mom.”

  She tightened her grip on Lo’s fingers. “I still don’t understand. You did everything right. You had healthcare. You have Johnny. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “You know it doesn’t work like that. The universe doesn’t keep tabs. The doctors think it’s genetic. But now we know, it’s treatable.”

  “Are you really going to be okay?”

  She knew what the doctors had said, but she needed to hear it from Lo. From the woman who had been an unmovable force since the day Frankie’s mom had died.

  “Once they put the stent in, I should be good as new.” Lo gave her a wobbly smile. “If I asked you to go home and get some sleep, would you ignore me?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be the first thing you see when you come out of the operating room,” Frankie affirmed, finally getting her emotions under control. “I don’t ev
en think Johnny will listen to you, and he’d walk on hot coals if you asked.”

  Lo gave a tiny laugh, sounding a lot more Lo-like. “Nothing like celebrating an engagement with a trip to the hospital. He’ll be wondering what he’s gotten himself into.”

  “He’s been beside himself. He loves you so much. So do I.”

  “I love you too, Frankie. You’re not just my niece, you’re my daughter, and nothing will change that.” Lo squeezed her hand, but her eyelids were beginning to droop. She was obviously tired. Frankie got to her feet.

  “I’d better let Johnny come in. He’s probably walked a hole in the waiting room floor.”

  “Will you call Kenneth? He’ll have to run Rosie on his own. Then if you could call Maggie—her baking’s not as good as mine, but she’ll make sure he has everything he needs each day. And we have to call everyone to cancel their orders.”

  Frankie had forgotten all about work and was about to tell Lo it was the last thing she needed to be worrying about. But she swallowed her protests.

  This was the busy season. It’s what helped them get through the quieter months.

  They couldn’t afford to shut down Rosie.

  “I will. I promise. You don’t need to worry about it.”

  She slipped out and went back to the waiting room where Johnny was leaning against the wall. At the sight of her, he hurried over.

  “She’s really okay,” Frankie said, and some of the color returned to his face. “She’ll be better when she sees you.”

  “Thanks, Frank.” Johnny gave her a quick hug, and she walked back with him. Frankie watched for a minute as they embraced each other, their foreheads pressed together, whispering.

  That’s what love looks like.

  She turned. It wasn’t her place to be watching them. She returned to the waiting room and sat down in the same dull green chair. It dug into her back, but she didn’t care. Lo was going to be okay. Tears leaked out of her eyes, but she wiped them away and reached for her phone. She sent Kenneth a text message explaining what had happened. Then she leaned back and shut her eyes.

  It had been a long day.

  xxxx

  Jackson woke up to a sharp tapping noise. And why did his neck hurt? He opened his eyes, but bright sunlight made him shut them again. His elbow bumped the steering wheel, and it all came back to him.

  He’d slept in the car.

  The tapping started up again, and he shielded his eyes as he turned toward the passenger side window. It was Frankie. Her blonde hair was hanging in a straggle down her back, and her tanned face was like porcelain. Dark bags were underneath her red eyes, while her mouth was set in a flat line.

  He wasn’t surprised.

  He leaned over and rolled down the window. His stiff muscles protested, and he rubbed a hand across his face to try and wake up.

  “Jackson? What are you doing here?”

  That was a very good question.

  And one he had no answer for.

  By the time he’d reached the hospital last night, it had hit him that he couldn’t just go in and see how Lo was. Or how Frankie was coping. And so he’d sat in his car trying to convince himself to go home.

  It hadn’t worked, and despite the uncomfortable night, he’d stayed.

  Judging by the way her mouth was tightening, it probably hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had.

  “I found my keys in my pocket and took them around to your place. Your neighbor told me what happened. And—” He paused and rubbed his brow, hoping for clarity. None came. “I figured I’d bring them to you. Is Lo okay?”

  Her bloodshot eyes blinked, huge against her pale blotchy skin. She must have been so scared. Yet here she was facing him down, just like she faced down everything. She’d never looked so gorgeous.

  She sucked in a breath and slowly nodded. “There was an operation, but it went fine. She’s sleeping now, and they’ll run some more tests before deciding when she can come home.”

  His breathing evened out.

  While it was clear Frankie was a mess, as long as her aunt was okay, she would be too. And yet he longed to drag her into his arms. He clenched his fingers to stop himself from doing anything moronic.

  “I’m pleased,” he said just as an Uber pulled up outside the entrance, and Frankie’s phone beeped. “Is that for you? If you need to get some gear, I can take you. And drive you back here.”

  “It’s okay.” She pushed her hair out of her face, her eyes turning from pale blue to the color of a summer storm. “I’ve got to swing by Lo’s kitchen to get a list of her orders. People need to be called, and then I’m off to Rosie.”

  “What?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Frankie, you’re in no condition to work. Kenneth can handle it on his own.”

  He wasn’t sure it was true. Kenneth was more inept than Frankie had led him to believe. But considering the circumstances…

  “Kenneth can’t make it,” she said in a flat voice. “He’s worried about a lump on his arm. I’m only going there to put a sign up and clear out the fridges. We’re shutting Rosie until further notice. I also need to ring Maggie and cancel the baking order I made last night.”

  Guilt rushed over him.

  In half a day, Lo’s business had come to a grinding halt. Not because she was in hospital, but because Kenneth had let them down.

  And so did I.

  “I can work in Rosie. I’ll collect the baking order and open up.”

  She shut her eyes as if she was trying to compose herself. After what seemed like hours, she looked at him. “That’s not necessary. If you’re feeling guilty, then don’t. Besides, what about your new job? On the construction site?”

  Now it was his turn to shut his eyes.

  “I was meant to be seeing them today about it.”

  “But you told Lo you were starting.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice grim. Yet another lie. “Let me help you. It’s the least I can do.”

  The only thing I can do.

  Her mouth softened, but her knuckles were white as she leaned against the car door. “Jackson, I can’t accept.”

  “Please. If you think Lo would trust me—”

  “Yes, she trusts you. She always has. I do too.” Finally, some of her bravado faltered. “Are you really sure?”

  “I’m really sure. Tell Lo I won’t let her down.”

  He might not be able to make things up to Frankie, but at least this would let him help in the only way he could. It would have to do.

  13

  The day was bright, and Frankie shielded her eyes against the early afternoon sunshine as she crossed the town square. Tiny drops of water from the fountain sparkled in the air before falling onto the children who were playing nearby. Aaron was outside the surf shop talking to a brunette she didn’t recognize.

  Frankie hurried on.

  Rosie’s soft pink-and-white exterior shimmered, inviting customers to step in, like a bee to a bunch of bright summer flowers. Three of the tables were filled with tourists, all laughing and chatting as they sampled the cakes and sandwiches from the tiered plates in the center. Several more groups were studying the menu while a tall figure patiently hovered nearby.

  Jackson.

  His dark hair was combed back, and the ridiculous floral apron that he took such delight in wearing was wrapped around his jeans. The black jacket was gone, and he was wearing a white T-shirt. She ached from the familiarity.

  The last three days had been an endless blur of doctors and nurses and decisions, but finally her aunt had been allowed home. She was still on bed rest, but the doctors were completely confident that with medication she had nothing to worry about.

  Last night was the first time Frankie had slept for more than a few minutes at a time.

  And after speaking to Lo this morning, they’d both decided she needed to talk to Jackson.

  Her stomach churned. She hadn’t seen him since the morning outside the hospital, when she’d fo
und him asleep in his car. She wracked her brain as to why he’d been there, but nothing quite explained it. Unless it was guilt that he’d dumped her.

  Part of her had wanted to say no to his offer, to not be in his debt. But Lo had to come first, and so she’d said yes. And it had been the right decision, because it had eased Lo’s mind and meant she could concentrate on what really mattered. Getting well.

  None of which was going to make today easier.

  They hadn’t even spoken. Not really. He’d sent two texts a day to let her know how everything was going and to confirm he’d reconciled the receipts.

  In short, he’d been amazing.

  And yet he dumped me without even giving a reason why.

  She swallowed and increased her pace. Her eyes hungrily taking him all in. He was leaning over a table, as if making sure he got the order right. He laughed at something the customer said.

  She resisted the urge to check her hair was still neatly tied up in a ponytail.

  Not that it mattered.

  He’d made it clear how he felt. The fact he’d been helping out was because he was grateful for all her aunt had done for him.

  I can do this.

  She took another step just as he looked up. His navy eyes widened, and without a word to the customers he’d been serving, he strode over to her, menus still clutched in his hand.

  How could he still look so good? It wasn’t fair.

  “Hey,” he said as soon as he reached her. His eyes were filled with concern as he scanned her face. “How is she? Is everything okay?” The words were cautious, as if he couldn’t quite read her expression. She nodded and tried to ignore the faint pine scent that always accompanied him.

  “She’s back home. When I left, Johnny had resorted to bribery to stop her from coming here herself. She’s itching to get back to work.”

  The tightness around his jaw loosened. “I’m pleased.”

  “Me too,” she said, the words catching in her throat.