Frankie threw Selma a dark look, and she quaked. Poor guy. He’d probably been as traumatized by last night as she was, but here he was again, politely drinking coffee with her crazy mother .
“How are you, Silly?” her dad asked. “You look exhausted .”
She huffed out a breath and perched herself on the arm of Frankie’s chair, which was the only convenient place to sit right now. “Long day,” she said. “Mom, I wish you’d told me you were planning on coming over .”
Her dad winked at her. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. We’ve got dinner covered. Why don’t you and your young man relax, and it’ll be ready in a jiffy .”
“Yes, let’s relax here, Selma,” Frankie said, and to her total surprise, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. She stifled a squeak .
“Aw, you two,” her mom said, heaving herself to her feet. She came over and squeezed their knees. “You remind me so much of when Bill and I were courting .”
“Gross, mom,” Selma moaned as her parents exited the room .
She twisted around on Frankie’s lap until she was able to look him in the eye. “I didn’t plan this, you know?” she hissed .
He grinned. “I know. But if it’s going to be awkward, it’s going to be awkward for both of us .”
She scowled. “This is a new side to you, Frankie Whitlock, and I’m not sure if I like it.” She tried to get up, but he wouldn’t let her go and laughed at her pathetic attempts to free herself. At last, she elbowed him in the solar plexus, hard, and he released her .
He gasped and clutched his stomach, pretending to be winded. “I’m sorry. I was just playing. It hasn’t been easy spending the last hour trying to remember everything I’ve learned from watching ER so I can answer your mom’s questions about my ‘job .’”
She stood up, refastening the bow at the neck of her blue chambray shirt. “I could kill them.” She walked over to the sofa and plopped down, slumping into a pile of cushions in the corner. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you the usual rate for tonight .”
“You don’t have to. But know this—next time I have to attend a wedding, you’re coming as my plus one. No arguments .”
“Okay, deal.” She sighed. And then she startled. He was looking at her very intensely, something animal in his cool, blue gaze. Suddenly all she could think about was last night. Of his mouth on hers, of his hands on her body, holding her with such need. Her nipples hardened and she suppressed a shudder. Was he thinking about the same thing? There was something animal in his cool, blue gaze .
Neither of them spoke for several long seconds, as if they were caught in a spell. It was unbearable. She had to say something, anything. She sat up straighter on the sofa. “How come you’re single, Frankie?” she blurted out .
Something changed in his face. He shrugged. “I’m not looking for a mate .”
“But all that stuff you told me last night about a fated mate …”
He shook his head. “It’s not for me .”
“Why?”
“You sure ask a lot of questions, Selma .”
“I know. People have been telling me that ever since I could speak .”
He cocked an eyebrow, let off a long sigh. “I had a rough time growing up. I saw the pain that relationships can bring, and it changed me. It made me serious and untrusting. I don’t think I’m anyone’s perfect match .”
She gazed at him, noting the tension in his jaw, the whiteness of his knuckles. She wanted to ask him about it, encourage him to open up, like her girlfriends encouraged each other when they were having hard times. But she knew he wasn’t like that. That she’d only make him run. “I think you’re wrong, Frankie,” she said instead .
He shrugged. “It’s not so bad. Most of the guys have mates already, and I love hanging out with their kids. We have a lot of barbecues and cook-ups. Hang out at the nearby lake sometimes .”
“That sounds nice. Where is the lake ?”
“It’s deep in the forest. It’s actually very overgrown, so there are hardly ever humans around. But the water’s very clear and not too cold. It looks real pretty on a sunny day, when you get a good reflection of the sky .”
“I’d like to go there sometime,” she said dreamily .
Frankie threw her a curious glance, and she was aware she was basically inviting herself. It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d usually say, but extreme fatigue made her less tense around him than usual .
“Let me know when you’re over that way and we can take you,” he said after a pause .
From the kitchen came the sound of a knife chopping something on a wooden block and pans clanking .
“This kind of reminds me of being kids. Emily and I watching TV while mom cooked dinner,” she said, draping her arm over the edge of the sofa, grateful for the opportunity to change the topic of conversation .
“We can watch something if you like .”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that. I think I’m getting delirious with tiredness. Did you get things sorted out at the cabins this morning ?”
He waved his hand. “Yeah. There was a pigeon stuck in someone’s stove pipe, of all things. It was going crazy in there, so we had to get it out .”
She smiled. “Was it okay ?”
“Yeah. I mean I hate the things, they’re disgusting, and I wouldn’t eat one if I was starving, but I don’t like simple creatures to suffer unduly .”
She flinched. “You bears catch your own food ?”
He laughed. “Of course. It’s one of the best things about being a bear. When you come over, we’ll barbecue some fresh-caught meat for you .”
“Yeah?” she said, and her stomach fizzed excitedly, but she wasn’t sure if it was a genuine invitation .
They chatted for another half hour, staying on safe topics, until the kitchen door burst open, accompanied by a delicious smell. “It’s ready, kids!” her mom called .
“Now I feel even more like a twelve-year-old,” Selma complained .
They went into the kitchen-diner where the table was laid with four sets of silverware, the lights were low, with only a corner lamp lit, and there was a casserole dish in the middle of the table and a huge salad bowl .
“Chicken and artichoke bake,” her mom announced .
“I’ll serve, mom,” Selma said, eager to regain some control in her own house. She grabbed a serving spoon and started dishing up the food. Then she went to her kitchen units and opened one of the lower cupboards, praying there was some wine in there. Despite her hangover, alcohol would definitely be required to get through another round of “meet the parents.” There was a bottle of red. “Phew,” she whispered. She grabbed four wine glasses and started pouring. “No beer, sorry,” she said to Frankie, who was standing in front of the garden door, out of her parents’ sight, hands in his pockets, and looking mildly horrified at the prospect of an intimate family meal .
“Don’t worry, honey. I got some beer for Bert and me,” her dad said and rooted in the fridge before emerging with two bottles of locally brewed IPA .
“Great.” Selma took two big tumblers out of the cupboard and plunked them down on the table. Could this get any cozier ?
She brought the two glasses of wine over for herself and her mom, and they all sat down .
Mealtimes had always been lively when she was growing up with her mom doing most of the talking, and tonight was no different. She told stories about her colleagues and about all the kids at her school. Frankie finished his first beer fast, and Selma slipped to the fridge and discreetly brought him another one .
Bill rolled his eyes at Frankie while Jean was in the middle of a very long and involved story about a kid who’d climbed a tree in the playground to chase a cat and ended up suspended from a branch by his underpants. “Did you have dinners like this when you were a kid?” he asked .
“Uh, not really.” Frankie replied. “I lost my mom when I was pretty young, then my older brother, Connor, left home, and it was just dad and me
— ”
“Selma, you told me different,” Jean butted in. “I’m sorry, dear, I was under the impression your mom was a homemaker who used to bake you cookies every day and help you with your homework .”
“Mom!” Selma hissed .
“There was a lady down the street who’d watch me after school,” Frankie said. “Maybe that caused the confusion .”
Selma shot him a look, her heart jumping with pity. She hadn’t known about his mom .
“And what does your dad do for work?” Jean continued .
“Enough,” Selma said sharply. “Enough with the interrogations, Mom. Let’s just have a conversation where people say what they want to say without having things dragged out of them .”
Jeans eyes flashed in surprise, and she fell silent. Her mom wasn’t used to Selma being logical and assertive, and she felt a little proud of herself .
When everyone had finished eating, Selma got up and made some tea. Half an hour more, and she’d remind them that everyone needed an early night .
“How did the work go on the gazebo today?” she asked Frankie pointedly .
“Yeah, real well. The beams for the roof are up now,” he replied .
She peered into the darkness through the kitchen window and saw that it looked more developed than last time she’d seen it. She finished making the tea and passed the mugs around. “Let’s go see it!” she said .
“That’s really something,” her dad said, as they all stood on the lawn and gazed at the structure. There were now eight rafters, sloping to a point in the center .
“There’s going to be some ornamental latticework just below the beams, and some diagonal features at the top of each post here,” Frankie explained, pointing out the different features of the structure .
Selma could tell her dad was impressed, and her mom had even stopped blathering away and was regarding it with interest. “Very oriental,” she said at last .
“Yup. That’s what I wanted, but with a more contemporary twist. And Frankie designed the whole thing .”
Frankie tipped his head back and took a deep sniff of the air. “I smell rain approaching,” he said .
“I know what you mean, dear. I’m getting one of my storm headaches,” Jean said. Selma rolled her eyes. Her mom’s “storm headaches” never emerged until she saw the weather forecast, or someone mentioned there was rain on the way .
“The clouds are moving fast,” Selma said, looking up at the moody indigo sky. The end of her words were drowned out by a crack of thunder, and a moment later, the rain came. They fled for the house, and in the thirty seconds it took them all to get inside, their shirts were drenched .
“Wooh,” her dad whistled, shaking out his polo shirt. “We’d better wait until that blows over before we head off .”
Selma groaned inwardly. Perfect .
Ten minutes later, the storm wasn’t showing any signs of blowing over. In fact, the rain was getting heavier and heavier, beating against the low roof of the kitchen and bouncing off the concrete yard outside .
Frankie took his phone out. “Looks like it’s not stopping anytime soon. Heavy rain for at least the next one hundred and forty-eight minutes, my weather app says .”
“God,” Selma muttered .
Jean went through to the living room and plumped herself down on the sofa. “Right. We’d better sit it out then .”
Bill, Frankie, and Selma followed her .
“I guess we could try and make it back to Emily’s,” her dad said with a frown .
“No, it’s crazy out there.” Frankie pulled the long teal curtains aside and gazed out at the street. Trees were whipping from side to side as the wind howled and moaned, driving the rain at an oblique angle. “It’s not safe .”
“Okay, then that’s decided,” Jean said with a happy sigh. “Looks like we’re bunking down with you tonight, sweetheart .”
“Of course, mom,” Selma said, trying to inject some brightness into her words .
“You still have that bed in the spare room ?”
“No, I got rid of it. Some of the springs were broken, and I haven’t got around to buying a new one yet. But it’s fine. This sofa’s a pullout. I’ll crash here while you and dad take the bed upstairs .”
“It’s okay, Silly, we’ll sleep here—” Bill began .
Selma held her hand up. “No, Dad. I know your back’s been giving you some grief. You’ll take the bed, no arguments .”
She went upstairs to change the sheets, and as she started stripping the bed, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. When Frankie entered the room, she stiffened, a little stunned at having him in her private space. The intimacy of the previous night rushed back to her, and an image burst into her mind of him throwing her onto her bed and climbing on top of her. Her clit jolted .
“Nice room,” he commented, looking around. It was large and square with a king-sized bed in the center and decorated in neutral hues apart from the comforter and pillows that were in vivid shades of burnt orange and teal. There was a standard lamp in one corner, and small Tiffany-style table lamps on each night stand .
“Thanks,” she said, her throat tight and dry .
When he helped to pull the sheets off the bed, she stiffened even more, hardly able to catch her breath. She glanced at him, wondering that he didn’t seem the least bit concerned he was touching her bed. Maybe bears didn’t see these things as intimate. He turned his head sharply and caught her gaze. “What is it ?”
“N-nothing,” she stammered .
He gave her a long look, several emotions showing in his eyes, but none of them made sense to her. “I’ll head home after this,” he said .
She frowned. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. It could be dangerous out there. I mean, what if you start aquaplaning ?”
He gave her a mischievous smile. “It’s okay. I’ll go in my bear form. My hide’s thick enough that I won’t even feel the rain .”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’ll just step out of the door and go? That’ll look weird, you know ?”
He paused, thinking. “I guess you’re right.” He sighed. “But where will I sleep ?”
She echoed his sigh. “Looks like the sofa’s the only place .”
His eyes widened. “Next to you ?”
“Uh, yup .”
His mouth opened and closed. “Okay. I guess there’s no other option .”
“No,” she said, and her heart started beating so hard she could feel a pulse pounding in her throat .
6
S elma took some fresh sheets out of her closet, and Frankie helped her make up the bed, both of them working in a tense silence. Then she carried the pillows, her comforter, and a fresh bottom sheet downstairs .
Her mom beamed at them and got to her feet. “Are you two lovebirds gonna be comfy down here ?”
Selma rolled her eyes. “I think so.” She knew her mom loved sleepovers. It brought out the little kid in her .
“Night, sweetie.” Her dad kissed her on the cheek and shook Frankie’s hand. “Thanks for putting us up .”
“Anytime,” Selma replied .
When her parents had trundled up the stairs, Frankie removed the sofa cushions and began investigating the pullout mechanism. She let him get on with it since she’d never actually used it as a bed before .
In seconds, it was done, and they spread the sheet over the base. It was a large, three-seater sofa, but once converted into a bed, it suddenly looked too small for the two of them. From the way Frankie was staring at it, it seemed like he had the same idea. Her heartbeat sped up again .
“I’ll go upstairs and get ready,” she said, keen to escape .
In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and moisturized, then remembered she hadn’t taken any pajamas from her bedroom. Dang it. Cautiously, she went along the corridor and stood outside her bedroom. She identified the annoyingly high-pitched whistle of her mom’s snore. She groaned. There was no way she could go in there now. Despite snor
ing loud enough to rattle the windows, her mom was a famously light sleeper, and if anyone woke her up, she’d claim they’d given her insomnia .
She returned downstairs where Frankie was perched on the bed a little awkwardly. “Mind if I take a shower? I was working all day .”
“Course not. I put out a guest toothbrush and a fresh towel for you,” she said .
“Thanks.” He disappeared upstairs .
Right. She gazed at her shirt and pants. Neither of them were at all suitable for sleeping in. There might be a tank top in the dryer, though. She went into the tiny laundry room off the side of the kitchen. There was. It was white cotton with a high neckline and long enough to go over her hips. She took off her shirt and pulled it on .
Back in the living room, she hesitated, fingers on the top button of her black work pants, then she turned the lights down very low, unfastened them, shucked them off. She lifted her hands to her bra clasp, and deliberated. It would be uncomfortable to sleep in, but she felt awkward about liberating her big, heavy breasts. She left it in place and slipped under the covers, a moment before Frankie came back downstairs, walking on light feet .
Her jaw dropped. He was shirtless, that incredible bronzed torso still damp from the shower, with a towel around his waist .
“Sorry, I didn’t want to put my work clothes back on after I’d showered,” he said. “Do you have a shirt or something I can borrow ?”
Peeking out from the comforter, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any guy stuff here. I mean, even if my dad had a spare shirt, there’s no way it would fit you .”
He grinned with an endearing flash of self-consciousness. “No problem. I’ll just turn out the lights before I get in .”
Selma was torn between watching him and averting her eyes. It was too much. She squeezed her eyes shut when he lifted the corner of the comforter. She heard the swish of the towel moving through the air, and felt the heavy weight of his body as he lay down beside her, less than a foot away. Was he naked? He must have left his boxers on beneath the towel .
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