“Maybe not that much.” She placed the sandwich on the table in front of him when he sat. “I’m gonna grab a couple things out of my car. You eat. I’ll be right back.”
“Did you eat?” If she insisted on taking care of him, he could at least make sure she took care of herself, too.
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask how you were.” He shook his head. “I asked if you’d eaten.”
Her blush darkened. “I picked at the ham while making your sandwich. So I’m … fine.”
Satisfied with her answer, he didn’t question her, and she didn’t wait for further interrogation. She hurried out of the kitchen. He heard the front door open and a few minutes later he heard a lot of bumps and grunts.
He rinsed his plate and placed it in the sink, then went out into the living room to see what Frankie was up to. “Hey, sweet thang, what’s—”
She looked up from her half-unfolded massage table and smiled, big and cheesy. “How about we take that brace off, and I’ll see if I can ease some of that tension out of your shoulders.”
“You’re just trying to get me naked.” And damn if his groin didn’t really like the idea. He put his hands in front of his crotch.
“You got me.” She shook her head and laughed, loud and mocking. “Now strip.”
Her teasing withered his ego, as well as other parts of him. Her ability to verbally castrate him cut to the core, especially since she didn’t have a clue she affected him. To her, his come-ons were a joke. He supposed they were.
He yanked at the Velcro on his brace and the resounding riiip! made him think of peeling his skin off. Her fingers brushed his chest as she helped him with the brace. Every part of him went rigid.
***
She took the brace and set it on his recliner. She turned around and slapped the table. “Come on, big boy, hop on up here.”
Oh, this was such a bad idea. He sat on the edge of the table and snorted. “Do I really have to lay down?”
“Unless you want me to have to kneel on the table behind you.”
Images, vivid and in all-too-detailed color, flashed through his brain. He choked back a groan.
“I’ll lay down.” While I still can.
He put his face in the hole and admired the wood of his floor. He didn’t want her to touch him, and yet, at the same time, he’d never wanted to feel a woman’s hands on his naked body more.
Through the hole, he saw her feet. He’d never noticed how small they were. She wore those fancy exercise shoes with the rounded bottoms, and she rocked back and forth, heel to toe. He heard her clap her hands and the shh, shh, shh of her palms rubbing together.
“I’m just warming my hands.”
Like that was necessary. If she got any hotter, he might burst into flames when she touched him. He swallowed hard. He didn’t like this situation, didn’t like liking her the way he did.
He’d always respected her, thought she was an okay looking woman, but getting to know her these last few weeks, she’d wormed her way into his heart.
And there wasn’t a woman alive worthy of residing there.
The second her hands skimmed over his good shoulder, he flinched. Big time. Almost sending himself tumbling off the table.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was going to touch you.”
“Just do your thing, Doc.” Get the torture over with!
Frankie’s touch started out gentle, rubbing over his shoulders, moving up over his neck, then down his spine. As her hands, slick with sweet-smelling oil, teased over his obliques, he bit back a moan. His every cell hummed. He throbbed and needed. It was a good thing he laid on his stomach, and if she asked him to roll over, he’d have to deny her. He couldn’t let her see what having her hands on him did to him.
She stroked and rubbed and massaged and Xavier wanted to fall to his knees and worship her. Her hands moved down his back, her thumbs digging into his spine. He groaned, the sound an erotic one, and Frankie chuckled.
“Feels good, huh?”
“So good,” he moaned.
“Want to flip over and—”
“No.”
Her touch stuttered. “Um, okay. I’d like to get the front of your shoulder.”
“It’s fine.” He sat up, making sure to rest his hands in his lap. “You’re a goddess. I feel totally rejuvenated.”
Man, he was a good liar. Every muscle in his body remained taut, and that was nothing compared to the party going on beneath his boxers.
***
Xavier jumped off the table and nearly flew out of the room. Frankie didn’t understand him. She’d tried her best to ease his tension, to help him relax, but instead he seemed even more tense. Not to mention his mad dash for the stairs.
She wasn’t sure she would survive his temper. She cared about him. More than she should, if her meltdown earlier was any kind of gauge. His insults hurt. His dismissal stung. His retreat wounded.
Obviously he didn’t enjoy playing the part of patient. Truth be told, she was getting pretty tired of it, too. Every time she turned around his mood changed. She discovered a playful side she hadn’t realized he had. He could make her laugh.
But as she heard the bedroom door upstairs slam, she wanted to cry.
What the hell was wrong with him? Him? What the hell was wrong with her?
She strolled into the kitchen and washed the oil from her hands. Returning to the living room, she made quick work of gathering her things. She muscled the table out the front door and shoved it into the trunk of her car.
By the time she walked back in the door she’d made a decision. She would leave. She would let him brood and stew all by himself and try again tomorrow.
The door opened all by itself, at least that’s how it appeared until Xavier stepped from behind it.
“Hi.” He crowded her, his hand raised, his knuckles stroking her cheek. He offered her a tight smile. “I shouldn’t have run off like that. I, um … needed a minute.” His hand plowed through his hair. “I’m sorry I’m an ass.”
“You’re very good at it.” She aimed for a smile and probably missed it by a mile.
He frowned, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. She sucked in a breath. Her heart thundered in her ribcage.
“I hate this.” He lifted his elbow a bit. “I never was very good at being sick.”
“Really,” she breathed, “I never would have guessed.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” He kissed her other cheek. “No matter what I say—” He kissed her nose. “—or do—” He gently, tenderly, brushed his lips across the corner of her mouth. “—I want you to remember that.”
“I … I should go.” She needed space. Now. Because if she didn’t get away from him, she was going to do something she’d regret. Something he’d hate her for. Something that would forever ruin their friendship.
His eyes searched her face, stopping on her lips. “I think you should stay.”
Oh, how she wanted to.
“I have a meeting.” She ducked under his arm and headed for the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”
Out the door, down the porch, she paused when she got to her car. Damn, her purse.
“Missing something?” he called from the porch, her purse dangling from his fingertips. There was no missing the humor in his voice.
Her hand tightened into a fist and her teeth ground together. Damn him for being amused, and doing it so freakin’ sexily!
They moved toward each other, he swaggered, she stomped. When they met on the walkway, he held out her purse. She snatched it. He caught her hand.
“Thanks again, Doc.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned on her heel and stomped away. His deep, sexy laughter mocked her retreat. She slid into the driver’s seat of her car and started the engine. Fool that she was, she chanced a look to where he’d returned to the porch.
His grin made her insides
go all gooey and she cursed. She waved a hand and he did one better, kissing his fingertips before bidding her goodbye.
She didn’t like the little stutter of her heart, and she prayed she’d be able to concentrate enough to keep her car on the road.
Damn him!
She knew better than most he’d only been messing with her. He probably got his rocks off watching her sweat under his caress. Or better yet, he was probably, right this very second, laughing his ass off.
Her phone rang. She dug it out of her purse and growled, “What?”
“PMS or Xavier?”
“Shut up, Christian. I’m not in the mood.”
“Man, I should kick that guy’s ass just for taking all the fun out of you.” He laughed then paused.
“What do you want, Chris?”
“You.”
She snorted and laughed. “Not funny.”
“That’s my girl.” He waited while she giggled. “Okay, so, I’ve been invited to a party tomorrow night. I don’t want to go alone.”
“You want me to run interference.” Statement, not question. She’d played the part before.
“It keeps the wolves away if I’ve got a girl on my arm.”
She shook her head. “Yeah, I’m available. Dress code?”
“Casual. You know that sweater I got you for Christmas?”
“Yeah.”
“That and jeans.”
“You made that easy on me.”
“I’m here to serve. Speaking of service, how is Super Stud today?”
“Pissy. Seriously, Christian, I get around him and I don’t know if I’m comin’ or goin’.”
“Comin’ is the better choice.” His laughter did wonders for her surly mood. And his suggestive statement made her bust out in a bout of amusement.
“Are you stopping by tonight?”
“No, I’ve got to work. Later, sweetheart.”
Christian disconnected and she smiled at his picture as the phone dimmed. She loved him. Her life would really suck if it wasn’t for him. He kept her feet on the ground and a giggle in her heart. She didn’t know what she’d ever do without him.
11
“Holy shit, check out that ass!” Christian jerked his head in the direction of the bar.
Frankie followed his line of sight just in time to see a thin, curvy girl sidle up to a hunky guy.
“Man, I’d love to sink my teeth into that.” Christian tipped his beer to his lips, sucked down a swallow, groaning as the bottle hit the table. “Seriously!”
She laughed, her thoughts drifting toward the perfect ass she’d like to sink her teeth into. Seriously was right. It seemed all she could think about was Mr. Tall, Dark and Ornery.
Christian’s warm hand covered hers. “Frank. Talk to me.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Rather, there was so much to talk about the dialog could rival War and Peace, she just didn’t want to talk about it. About him.
Christian laughed. “You are an awful liar.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her in the direction of the bar. “Maybe if I get you good and drunk, you’ll loosen up and have a good time. Maybe we can get you laid tonight.”
“I don’t wanna get lai-…” She stopped to drop her voice when she realized what she was about to shout to the world. “Christian, really.”
Laughter burst from him and he yanked her into a hug. He kissed the skin just below her ear. “It’s a party, Frank, and you’re the biggest pooper. Ever. Cheer up, or I might have to screw you myself.”
“Wow. You’re such a giver.”
His brows wiggled. “You have no idea.”
They stood in line at the bar, laughing, joking, his arm slung over her shoulders, waiting for the bartender to take their order, when a low deep voice spoke her name.
She closed her eyes in preparation of the man she’d see when she turned around. Her heart dropped to the floor, her mouth went dry, as Xavier’s hazels narrowed on Christian.
“Xavier.” She tried to ease away from Christian, but he tucked her protectively next to his body.
“Doc.” Although Xavier said her name, he hadn’t taken his eyes off of Christian. The two of them stared at each other. She didn’t understand the pissing match, and the macho act irritated her. She jammed her elbow into Christian’s side and stepped forward to offer Xavier a friendly hug. At least that’s what she’d intended.
When she slipped an arm around his waist, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. So this is what heaven felt like. He smelled exquisite, all male and desire and take-me-now.
“I didn’t expect to see you.” He eased her away, holding her at arm’s length, his gaze moving over her in an intimate caress that made everything inside her go liquid.
Christian cleared his throat. “This is a private party.”
“So, I guess you should take a hike.”
Frankie stepped between them. “Maybe I should make some introductions. Christian, this is Matthias Xavier. He’s the Rockets player I’ve been helping.”
Christian grunted.
“X, this is Christian.”
Xavier grunted.
Seriously, heaven help her. She needed someone to save her from all the testosterone.
“So, um, I’m going to get a drink. You two can do whatever it is guys do when they’re being dicks.”
Both men ripped their arrogance driven glances away from each other and stared at her, mouths open. One heart beat. Two. And then they both broke out in laughter.
Christian hooked one arm around her neck, pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Man, I love you, Frank.” He shoved a twenty into her hand. “Will you grab me a beer while you’re at the bar? You know the kind I drink.”
Nice. She’d just been dismissed and asked to play waitress all at the same time. Jerk! She’d walk away and let him think he’d gotten away with it. Then later, when they were alone, she would kick his ass. Up one side and down the other.
***
Rage and fury boiled in his gut, turning his insides to molten lava. Xavier didn’t know anything about the guy in front of him, except his name was Christian and he loved Frankie.
The first didn’t concern X. The latter made him want to rip the guy limb from limb.
And how ridiculous was that?
He had a definite disadvantage. His damn shoulder was still in the brace, held tightly to his body. But then, he could kick this chump’s ass with one hand tied behind his back. Literally.
Christian smiled, a tight grimace filled with menace and warning. “Don’t you dare hurt her.”
Xavier took a step forward, using his size to intimidate. “I won’t.”
“You already have.” Christian’s blue eyes narrowed.
X accepted the challenge and closed the gap. With only a scant few inches between them, Xavier noted how big the guy was. X had a couple inches and a few pounds on him, but if it got physical … Well, it couldn’t get physical until he had both hands to pound the arrogant smirk off his face.
“Did you hear what I said?” Christian chest bumped Xavier.
X lifted his chin and glared down his nose at Mr. Protective. “I think you should stay outta her business.”
“She is my business.” Christian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re hurting her. Every time you’re a dick to her, you hurt her. She puts on a brave front, but you’re pickin’ away at her confidence. You probably can’t see it because the ‘roids have melted your brains as well as shrinkin’ your balls. But it’s killin’ her and it’s pissin’ me off. If you don’t knock off your shit, I’m going to have to kick your ass. For real.”
He’d hurt Frankie?
He’d hurt Frankie.
Well, shit.
He glanced over Christian’s shoulder and admired her slim figure. He’d never seen her in regular clothes. Damn, she was a fine woman. His body tightened, then his heart softened when she turned around, coming up to them with a big smile on her face and t
hree drinks in her hands.
“You bought.” She handed a Bud Light to Christian, passed a bottle of water to Xavier. She shrugged. “I didn’t know if you’d taken any pain meds. I figured this was safe.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out some change. Xavier thought his head might explode as she reached over and slipped her hand into Christian’s pocket.
The water bottle crunched in his hand. The lid popped off, sending water spewing out to cover some poor schmuck at another table. Frankie gasped. He dropped the bottle and glared at Christian’s pocket. Her smile faltered. Then like a light bulb flipped on, she looked down at her arm and tugged her hand free.
Xavier tried not to frown, pretty sure he ended up scowling. “I’d better take off. It was great to see you, Frankie.”
Christian stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Not wanting to look like the dick he’d been accused of being, he took Christian’s hand. The guy’s grip tightened, his knuckles turning white. He smiled.
“Remember what I said, Mr. Xavier.”
Xavier jerked his hand free, smiled at Frankie and strode to the bar. If he had a prayer of making it through the night watching Frankie with another man, he needed something stronger than water in his system.
And maybe, just maybe, if he had some alcohol in his bloodstream, his reactions to Frankie, to Christian, might make some sense.
12
“Xavier!” Frankie stuck her head in the door and hollered his name. Again. “I’m here. You ready to work out?” She walked into the kitchen and put the mail on the counter. “Are you hiding?”
The letter on top caught her attention. The return address read: Central High School Reunion Committee. She picked up the letter and turned it in her hands.
“X,” she called again. “The mailman just left your mail. I grabbed it for you.”
Where the hell was he?
She dropped the letter on the counter and jogged up the stairs. The tell-tale sound of water and off-key singing told her exactly where he was. Without letting her thoughts get carried away, she turned on her heel and hurried back downstairs. He didn’t know it yet, but she’d arranged to take him to the PT suite at the stadium. It’d been nearly two months since his surgery, and she intended to up the rehab. It was time to get his shoulder moving again.
Out of Left Field Page 8
