“I did?” He gave a strangled laugh. “I felt like a big clumsy oaf .”
“No! The way you followed my mom’s steps was perfect. I watched the whole thing .”
“Aw, you should watch my clan-mate Niall. He’s a real good dancer .”
“I’m happy enough watching you,” she blurted out, and the instant flush to her cheeks told him she hadn’t intended to say that at all. “So I was thinking, maybe we could go get a drink and I’ll introduce you to my best friends in the complaints team,” she said, talking a hundred miles an hour .
“Sounds good to me.” He lifted the neck of his shirt, fanning himself, and promised his bear he’d go for a good long run the moment he got the hell out of this place .
Selma pushed her way to the bar and returned seconds later with two glasses of bubbles. She handed one to him, and he sniffed it suspiciously. Like most of his clan, beer was the only alcohol he drank by choice, although glasses of champagne had been forced on him at weddings from time to time. The bubbles tickled his nose and he hated the sour, dry taste .
“Selma!” He caught her arm as they made their way to the far corner of the room where a group of mainly women were standing, chatting animatedly. “Is there anything else I need to know before I meet your friends? Anything you might have confided in about Bert, perhaps? Apart from the fact that he’s an EMT .”
“Ah…” She laid a finger on her lips and gazed up at the ceiling, the whites of her eyes looking big. “I don’t think so. I told them he’s an amazing guy. That’s he’s real romantic, buys me flowers and chocolates all the time .”
His bear let off a little snarl, escaping his lips before he had time to tamp it down .
Her eyes went wide. “What was that ?”
“Nothing.” Just an illogical burst of possessiveness. Nothing to worry about. “Did he ?”
“Not that often, I guess. Maybe once or twice .”
A twinge of pity hit him right in the gut. She deserved a guy who’d do things like that for her. She had a good heart. And he was going to do his damnedest to show her friends he cared about her—uh, to pretend he cared about her .
The two of them eased their way through the huddles of chatty humans and arrived at their destination .
“Hey, guys, this is Bert!” Selma announced. His bear flinched as eight pairs of eyes turned on him like headlights and eight sets of teeth glittered expectantly .
“Hey, Bert!” One of the women stepped forward and hugged him. She was as small as Selma with short dark hair and curious brown eyes. “I’m Luciana. It’s so great to meet you! Me and the girls were starting to wonder if you were a figment of Silly—I mean, Selma’s—imagination .”
“Stop, Luciana,” Selma said, her cheeks heating again .
She blushed a lot, he observed, and it sure made her look cute. But he felt bad that she was embarrassed yet again .
Without stopping to think, he put his arm around Selma’s waist, pulled her to him, and planted a kiss on top of her head. “I guess that’s my fault,” he said. “I’ve been working long hours and doing some work on her house as well. I suppose I should’ve got my priorities in order and made sure we all got acquainted .”
Eight heads nodded, and their grins got even wider. Selma lifted her chin and beamed up at him. It was exactly the right thing to have said. “I’ve been building her a gazebo,” he continued, inspired by their positivity. “Wanna see some photos?” He cocked an eyebrow, trying to demonstrate just the right amount of modesty. They nodded eagerly, and he pulled out his phone. The structure was about a third of the way done. He hadn’t started working on the roof yet, but the wooden floorboards had been laid and the eight upright posts were in place. He had a photo of his plans too, and he explained how it was going to look when it was finished .
“You’re a good man,” Luciana said, her eyes full of respect. “I was just asking Selma this morning, ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Cuz guys as good looking as you usually aren’t all that nice .”
“Luciana!” Selma hissed .
“Uh…” Frankie gave a strangled laugh, ran his hand through his messy hair, utterly at a loss for words. He was just glad he didn’t share Selma’s blushing habit .
“He’s very modest,” Selma said, covering for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see she was looking up at him again. He did the only thing he could do—he dipped his head and kissed her on the lips .
Wow . They were soft. At first, she seemed to freeze, but then her lips moved against his. He hadn’t kissed a whole lot of women, but this was maybe the best kiss he’d ever had .
A chorus of “awwws!” filled his ears, and the two of them broke apart slowly .
“You guys are too cute,” Luciana said, her eyes shining with moisture. She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so glad Selma has found you. She’s a very special girl, and we love her very much .”
He nodded and smiled. “So, you all work in complaints?” he said, eager to move the conversation on .
“For our sins,” one of the two guys said. He was tall and thin with gelled hair and a neatly trimmed beard .
“But you all look so happy,” Frankie blurted out, and everyone roared with laughter, as if he’d said the funniest thing ever .
Just then, the music got louder, and all the women squealed. “I love this song!” one of them yelled .
“It’s their song,” Selma said, tilting her head toward Emily and Dave who were already heading hand in hand to the dancefloor .
It sounded like a cheesy romantic song to Frankie, but as the entire group followed them, singing and waving their hands in the air, he instinctively took hold of Selma’s hand and led her there as well .
It was also instinctive to place both hands on Selma’s waist and press his body to hers. She was so small that her breasts bumped up against his abs. They felt soft and full, and more arousing than he would’ve liked. His bear unfurled itself, its ears pricking up. She stretched her hands up and tentatively laid them on his biceps. Her fingers tightened convulsively then loosened again as if something had shocked her. When she looked up at him, her pupils were dilated, making her eyes appear dark. He began to sway from side to side, copying the couple next to them .
“This song is so romantic,” Selma said wistfully .
“It is,” he agreed .
She wrinkled her nose. “I know you hate it .”
“I don’t .”
“You do. All guys do. Even Alfredo and Chas on my team, who like the gayest, campest songs ever, say it’s cheesy .”
“Maybe I have a secret passion for cheesy songs,” he said. And he wondered why he was trying so hard to convince her. No one could hear them right now .
She snorted .
“I like that you like it,” he said at last, and he meant it .
“Listen to the lyrics.” She started to sing them, and he dipped his head closer to hear her better. She was kind of off-key, but she had a sweet voice. “I’d travel the whole world, looking for you…If it took me all my life…I’d never give up …”
“Sounds like shifters,” he said without thinking .
She blinked, uncomprehending .
“Most shifters have this thing about fated mates. They never settle for any less than their perfect match, even if they have to spend their whole lives looking for her. They believe that fate has ordained they’ll only be compatible with one person .”
Her forehead puckered. “Sounds stressful. If your mate could be anywhere, the chance of finding her must be slim .”
“I think that’s where fate’s supposed to come in and throw your mate into your path. But Tamika’s dating app has also been helping .”
“Yeah. My friend Kenzie worked with her mate, Nash, for a long time, but they fought like cat and dog until they found out they were matched on the app.” She rolled her eyes. “Actually, it’s a long and complicated story. But the upshot is, they probably wouldn’t have gotten together if it wasn’t for Shiftr .”
Sadness flickered in her clear gray eyes. He found himself wanting to wipe it away .
“Kiss me,” she whispered .
He dipped his head, and his mouth was on hers again. Kissing her felt so nice, her lips small and puckered, like a rosebud starting to open. This time, she responded right away, her mouth gliding on his. He angled his head a little, wanting more, and her lips parted. A sound escaped his throat. This was a whole new sensation. He slid his tongue into her mouth, and right away he found hers, so soft and velvety and flickering. He laid a hand on the back of her neck, and they went on and on, lips caressing, tongues exploring in a blissful dance .
He didn’t want it to end. It was only supposed to be a quick kiss, but his bear had risen up against his skin, and he was lost in the incredible sensations. Eventually the song finished, and they came apart. Her eyes were full of wonder .
“You’re a pretty good kisser, Selma,” he said, intending it to sound lighthearted, but his voice was throaty with desire, and his cock strained against his zipper .
“You’re not bad yourself, Bert,” she said .
He glanced around the room, a little dazed as if he’d just woken from a dream, and saw her parents were standing nearby. They’d seen the whole thing, and they were beaming indulgently. A wave of confusion went through him. He shouldn’t be embarrassed they’d been watching because this was what was supposed to happen. But it hadn’t been a fake kiss, staged for their benefit. It had been real, passionate .
“I have to go to the bathroom,” he told Selma and slipped away. In the men’s room, he found a window that opened, and he stuck his head out, inhaling the night air, cooling off, willing his bear to quit scrabbling at his insides .
When he returned, the crowd was thinning out, and he spotted Selma’s parents making their way to the exit .
Selma found him. “We can leave now,” she whispered .
“Are you sure ?”
She nodded, looking a little disheveled, as if this evening had taken it out of her as well. “I think you’ve met everyone, and Bert’s made a real good impression .”
He grinned. “Great.” As they went downstairs, his hand naturally found its way to the small of her back, and he guided her down the steps, making sure she didn’t trip in her high heels .
Selma rounded up her parents beside the parking lot .
“Ooh, we thought you love birds had snuck off,” her mom said .
“Mom!” Selma rolled her eyes. “Bert has to leave now since he’s due on shift early in the morning .”
Relief flooded through him. He’d been worried he was about to get invited for a nightcap or something. Jean squeezed him tight, telling him yet again how happy she was to meet him, and Bill shook his hand and slapped him on the back, eyes twinkling .
“I’ll just walk him to his car,” Selma said .
“Thank you so much for tonight,” she said once they’d reached his car and were out of earshot of anyone else in the parking lot. “That was an Oscar-worthy performance .”
He grinned. “It wasn’t the hardest day’s work of my life, Selma .”
She nodded shyly. “Well, anyway, thank you. I think we’re done here. Boyfriend duties officially over. I’ll give you the money when you come to work tomorrow .”
“Sure thing. Goodnight, Selma .”
“Goodnight.”
His feet seemed to be fixed to the asphalt, and so did hers. He didn’t need to kiss her goodbye since no one was watching them, but somehow he found himself lifting her chin with his index finger and planting one final kiss on that sweet cherry mouth. She made a small, muffled sound of surprise, and her eyes flashed as she looked up at him questioningly .
“Selma!” a voice called from the other side of the lot .
Her eyes lingered on him as she turned to walk away. He watched her hips swaying, the slight unsteadiness of her gait in her heels, and something deep inside him ached. All those things people had been saying about them tonight, about how good they were together, were gone forever .
“What’s wrong with you, Frankie?” he muttered to himself. “Pull yourself together and forget about it.” He opened the door of his car with a clunk and drove fast all the way back to his cabin, his bear straining for release .
5
T he following morning Selma awoke with a headache when her alarm went off. Luckily, she was working a 9-5 shift today, so it wasn’t a brutally early start. “Too much Prosecco,” she muttered, staring vacantly at the lime-green light shade in the middle of her white ceiling. But, what a night. Already, it didn’t seem real. It was as if she was recalling scenes from her favorite movie. The way the hero and heroine had kissed so tenderly on the dance floor, how the hero had looked at the heroine as if she was the only woman in the world. Except that Frankie, her incredibly hot carpenter, had been the principal actor, and she had been the female lead .
They say that actors’ kisses are fake; tongues don’t really touch, lips don’t really crush onto each other. But last night had been nothing like that. He’d kissed her like he wanted her, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth, dancing around her own, until sparkles of excitement had blossomed inside her, beginning in her tummy and running all the way down to the apex of her thighs. And she’d sworn she’d felt him hard against her belly .
She snorted. It was more likely his belt buckle. And he was no trained actor. He was probably just improvising. She ought to forget all this foolishness and be grateful he did such a good job of being Bert. When her parents had turned up, she thought it was all over. He was going to storm out of there. But he didn’t. And it couldn’t have gone any better. Her parents loved him, bless them. She wished desperately that it had been for real .
Her alarm went off again, and she reached for her phone. She startled when she realized it wasn’t the first snooze session but the sixth. Apparently, she’d completely slept through the first four. She was now running a half hour late. She burst out of bed as if she’d been electrocuted and hit the shower. There’d be no time to style her hair today .
She dried off fast and pulled on a pair of black pants and a blue chambray shirt, which were the least creased items in her closet. There was barely enough time to make coffee for Frankie either, she thought as she hurtled downstairs. So far, her panic had kept her mind off the fact she was about to see him again, but now her stomach tightened. He should be here any minute. She sprinted into the kitchen and filled the coffee machine with water, added the coffee and filter paper, and switched it on. Then she raced back upstairs, remembering she’d left her phone on her nightstand .
Frankie had messaged her: Hey, Selma. Something’s come up at the cabins. No biggie, but I’m going to be at least an hour late this morning. See ya later, Frankie .
She wouldn’t have to see him this morning, looking hung-over with her hair still dripping wet. Relief and disappointment mingled inside her. She flicked the coffee maker off and emptied out the half-brewed jug and filter. He knew how to operate it. He even insisted on bringing his own Colombian maximum-strength ground coffee with him. She left the house, closing the deadlock behind her. He had his own set of keys, so it was no issue leaving before he arrived .
R eaching the office seconds before her shift started, she was spared the comments and questions she knew her co-workers were dying to send in her direction. She often wished her job didn’t involve being on the phone all day long so she had more time to chat with her friends, but today she was grateful for it. She needed a little more time to process the events of the night before .
There was no escape at break time, though. When she headed toward the kitchen to make her morning cup of tea, Luciana grabbed her by the arm, telling her that it was being made for her, then hauled her outside to the smokers’ corner so the debrief of the night before could begin. Geez, what did she expect anyway? Everyone gushed about how gorgeous and charming Bert was, and “Actually, quite a lot nicer than I’d been expecting.” Selma scowled at this last
comment of Maureen’s, a pale, beige-haired girl with a mousy look to her features. Did they think she’d be dating some A-hole ?
The next session couldn’t start soon enough, but Luciana foiled her attempts to sneak out at lunchtime by announcing they were going to have a team lunch, and the interrogations continued while they ate at an Italian deli that sat at the edge of the business park, mopping up trade from the local workers .
The final session of the day dragged and dragged, Selma’s hangover kicking in harder by the hour. On the final call of the day, an irritable old woman asked her if she’d “been burning the midnight oil lately” when Selma couldn’t make her words come out in the right order .
At last, she was done. She drove home, stopping at EasyMart to pick up a packet of fresh spinach and cheese ravioli and a tub of carbonara sauce. All she wanted to do was throw the pasta in a pan, eat it sitting in front of the TV, and not think about or discuss Frankie anymore .
As she turned her key in the lock and opened the door, she heard a buzz of voices. She frowned. Weird .
“Hellooo?” As she strode along the passageway and approached the door that led to the living room, the voices separated into her mom’s excitable tones and her dad’s slower, more measured speech. And Frankie’s deep, rumbling voice. What the hell ?
Stress rising in her chest, she hurled open the door. Frankie was sitting upright on her gray cord armchair while her parents were lounging on the matching sofa. They were all drinking coffee .
“What’s going on here?” she demanded, surprise relieving her of all vestiges of manners .
“Hello, dear!” her mom said. “We thought we’d surprise you by coming over to cook dinner tonight .”
“You did surprise me,” she said weakly, wondering why on earth she hadn’t taken her key back from them the last time they stayed with her. “I thought you were having dinner with Emily and Dave tonight ?”
“We were, but Dave’s colleagues threw a surprise party for him, and Emily was expected to be there too, so we thought we’d pay our favorite younger daughter a visit instead.” She leaned forward and patted Frankie on the knee. “And what a piece of luck that Bert here got to finish his EMT shift early today and was working on the gazebo when we arrived !”
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