by Cari Quinn
He’d start traveling with the team this week, giving her a welcome reprieve. Another MRI would show his shoulder had healed then he’d be back full time.
She climbed into her SUV and started the engine. The radio blared with the slow, agonizing plea for just the right man to come into her life. She dropped her forehead and, closing her eyes, sighed.
From what she could tell their distance hadn’t affected Xavier in the least. Jeff complained his attitude sucked, but that was simply par for the course. X’s attitude always sucked when it came to PT.
She toppled into the memory of her conversation with Grayson this afternoon.
“I’m worried about him. He’s … moping.”
“Not moping, just brooding. That’s nothing new.”
Grayson shrugged, but his shrewd gaze told her he didn’t agree. “It’s something else. He’s … different since you guys came home.”
Frankie busied herself, stacking the papers on her desk. This topic was so not open for discussion, especially with Xavier’s best friend.
The door to her office opened and she looked up to see Grayson in the doorway. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but you should seriously consider giving him a chance.”
“I can’t.” So much for unopen topics.
Grayson nodded, his smile tight, his eyes understanding. He then walked out of her office, closing the door behind himself.
The ringing of her cell brought her back to the here and now and made her smile. She lifted her head from the steering wheel and fished out her phone. She accepted the call, grateful when the suggestive lyrics about Speedos at the beach stopped.
“Hey, Chris.”
“That’s it! I am done with this moping.”
Making sure her Bluetooth was in place, she shifted the car into gear and headed out of the parking lot. “I’m not moping.”
Christian snorted. “I’m taking you out.” She opened her mouth to protest and he grunted. “Huh uh, no arguments. We’re going to see a movie and you’re going to laugh your ass off. How long ’til you’re home?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be there.” And the line went dead.
She tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. Okay, so maybe she was moping. That’s what happened when your heart broke into a million pieces. Christian should consider himself lucky he didn’t need a mop to soak up all the tears she kept locked up on the inside.
* * *
Xavier stood in front of the toy department and bit his lip. He never ventured into this section of the big box store. He should get out more. They had some really cool things. Much cooler than when he was a kid.
He had to remind himself he shopped for a little girl, but couldn’t stop himself from taking a stroll down all the aisles. Trucks, action figures, kickass LEGOS sets. He’d loved LEGOS.
Were those Transformers?
He laughed to himself and picked up a couple of the toys. There was a yellow one with a black stripe he couldn’t resist. He felt like an idiot. Grown men did not buy toys for themselves, but the thought didn’t stop him from tucking the giant box under his arm.
With a satisfied smile on his face, he found the pink aisles. He wondered what Emma liked.
A pair of dress-up shoes caught his attention and, like an invisible tether guided him, he stood in front of the boas and dresses and those shoes. His baby sister, Shayne, had a pair just like these, purple straps with pink feathers and clear heels. He smiled thinking of her clomping around the hard wood floors of their home, carrying her Cabbage Patch Kid. She never went anywhere without that doll.
Two aisles over, he found exactly what he’d been looking for. There had to be at least twenty of the stupid things. He thought of Emma with her shiny brown hair, her deep jade eyes, her infectious smile. Separating out all the brown haired dolls, he created a line of dolls on the top shelf then pulled out the ones with eyes other than green. He’d narrowed it down to four dolls: one with an art set, one with curly hair and overalls, and two of the same style of white shirts and frilly pink skirts.
He frowned. Emma’s hair was straight, so he removed that doll. Emma liked to color, but Xavier thought the other two dolls were cuter. He shook his head. He’d never picked out dolls before and wanted to make Emma happy. He had no idea how to choose between the other two dolls. They were identical. Then he remembered the ridiculous names the Doll Gods gave them. Ah-ha! The deciding factor. Macy Rose or Greta Lilly? Well, hell, that made it easy.
He tucked Macy Rose under his arm, retrieved the Transformers toy from the floor where he’d set it during his doll inspection and headed for the check out. The girl at the register smiled when he placed the toys on the counter.
“Single dad? We see a lot of guys making up for not being around all the time.” She softened the slam with a big grin.
“I don’t have kids.”
Her smile widened. “I get off in about twenty minutes.”
“Not interested, sweetheart.” He motioned toward the toys on the counter. “I’m only here for these.”
Her hands shook as she rang up and bagged the stuff. He felt a little bad for shooting her down as hard as he had. Hell, he was old enough to be her father and wasn’t it just sad he didn’t have children of his own at his age. He gathered the bags and took the receipt she held out to him.
“Thank you.”
She ignored him to welcome the next guy in line. She wouldn’t be leaving alone. It might take the full twenty minutes remaining in her shift, but Xavier had no doubt one of the guys standing in her line would take her up on her offer. He wanted to explain that guys were assholes, unworthy of her, and that she should wait until she found somebody who was before she got intimate with them.
What the hell had happened to him?
He knew exactly what had happened, but refused to think of her. He snapped his thoughts down tight and thought of Emma. The doll he’d gotten for her would be perfect. He popped the trunk on his car and placed the toys inside. Damn, he’d forgotten a bow or a card. He considered going back in, but the ring of his cell phone stopped him.
He answered, knowing this would be the call Grayson had warned him would come. “Hello, Princess.”
“Uncle Xavier, where are you?” came the greeting. “Mom says we can’t eat until you get here and I am starving clear to death. Did you know I’m five today?”
He laughed. “I am on my way. I’m hungry too and yes, I did know you’re five today.”
“Did you get me a present?” Jane’s reprimand came through clear as if she’d spoken directly to him. “Mom says it’s okay if you didn’t. But it is my birthday and it is a par—”
“I’m sorry,” Jane said into the phone. “You do not have to get her a gift.”
Xavier was sure Jane’s cheeks bore the reddened stain of her humiliation and he shook his head, chuckling. “I already did. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“Okay. We’ll see you then.” He pulled the phone away, but put it back to his ear when she continued to speak. “I’m really glad Grayson talked you into joining us. He says you’re kind of down these days.”
“Yeah, your husband talks too much.”
She laughed. “He just worries. We’ll see you in a few.”
This time the line did go dead. He still didn’t have a bow or any gift wrap and didn’t feel like braving the store again. The outside of the bag was bright red, the inside white. He took the toy he’d bought for himself—he couldn’t believe he’d actually done that—out of the bag and set it on the black carpet in the truck, then removed the doll. Turning the bag inside out, he slipped the doll back into the bag and tied the handles together. Not bad.
He frowned. It didn’t look like a present. But there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Back behind the wheel, he began the short drive to the Pierce’s. He glanced down at the console and noticed the black Sharpie the girls had left behind. He smiled and nodded. The gift would look like
a gift once he’d finished with it.
* * *
A squeal followed the opening of the door. Emma launched herself into his arms. She kissed his cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re here. Finally.”
“Emma!” Jane shook her head. She wiped her hands on her apron and opened her arms for a hug. Xavier shifted the wiggling Emma to his hip and accepted the hug, wrapping an arm around Jane. She kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”
Emma slithered off his hip and down his leg. She grabbed the bag out of his hand. “Is this for me? Did you draw all these pictures? Oh, man, is that supposed to be a balloon or a monkey?”
Jane’s cheeks did exactly as he’d imagined them before, turning bright pink. “That child has no filter. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was your daughter.”
Xavier laughed as Jane shooed her daughter into the kitchen. He’d learned to love Jane. She was a good woman, the perfect match for Grayson.
In the beginning Xavier had been skeptical, voicing his opinion on the matter. A lot. He’d had lots of fences to mend and it’d taken years before he’d made it up to Jane. Now he felt like one of the family. An honorary Pierce.
Grayson’s mother’s death three years ago had affected him as deeply as Grayson, the two men shamelessly crying as they sat side by side on the tiny pew in Salina, Utah.
Grayson shared his family with Xavier, giving him the one thing he’d always wanted more than anything in his life.
“I’m opening it!” Emma announced, and before Jane could stop her, she had the bag ripped open and pulled the doll out. Xavier felt his surge of pride and achievement melt into defeat when her little brows folded in the middle and her lips formed a perfect pout. “Oh.” She tipped her head to the side. “It’s a fat baby.”
The three adults broke out in laughter. Emma’s two older sisters grabbed the box away and raved about the adorable baby. Eleven-year-old Kamryn took the box between her hands while eight-year-old Sami pointed to the name.
“It’s Macy Rose, Emma,” Sam informed her.
“And she has brown hair and green eyes just like you,” Kam added then looking up at him, smiled. “You did good, Uncle Xavier.”
After the three of them successfully liberated Macy Rose from her box, they had dinner and birthday cake. They chatted about friends and school and the dog Emma didn’t get for her birthday. Bedtime came way too soon.
Emma, doll under her arm, crawled into his lap where he sat on the couch and gave him a big hug before heading to bed. “Thanks for the dollie, Uncle X. I love her.”
He kissed her on the top of her tiny head. “I’m glad, sweetheart.”
“And I love you.” She kissed his cheek.
His heart swelled like the Grinch’s, threatening to break the confines of his ribcage. “I love you, too. You and your sisters. Happy birthday.” He swatted her behind and she rushed away from him with Jane on their heels.
Grayson smiled. “I’m gonna help her get the birthday girl into her pjs. You okay for a bit?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
In that moment, he envied Grayson Pierce something fierce. Xavier wanted things he may never have, a good woman who loved him for who he was, flaws and all, and children to treasure the way he’d never been.
A little while later Jane put her hand on Xavier’s shoulder and offered him a squat glass. “Grayson’s right. You do look like you’ve lost your best friend.”
Xavier chuckled, shook his head and downed the amber liquid in one gulp. His throat burned and he only barely resisted the urge to stick out his tongue to allow for enough breath to calm the sting.
“What’s her name?” Jane sat in the chair across from him, lifted her feet, resting her heels on the edge, and crossed her arms over her knees. Xavier shot a glance at the stairs. “He won’t be down for a while. Emma will keep asking for more stories until her eyes close for the night.”
He looked past Jane into the dormant logs of the gas fireplace. “Her name is Frankie.” And then without meaning to, he spilled all the sordid and wonderful details of their weekend together and what she meant to him.
“Does she know how you feel?”
For the first time since opening his mouth, he let his eyes meet Jane’s. “Yes.”
“You told her you love her?” Jane’s lip quirked up.
“Well, no.”
“The way I see it, you have two options: stop pouting, get over yourself and move on. Or grow a pair and go after her.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Xavier didn’t even wait for Grayson to come back down before leaving. He knew what he had to do and, if he let his head get involved, he might talk himself out of the most important decision in his life.
He made a quick stop at the grocery store getting the biggest bunch of roses they had. His hand barely wrapped around the stems.
He’d always had a general idea of where Frankie lived, but weaving through her neighborhood and finding the exact street took a few extra minutes. He pulled down her street and looked through his opened driver’s side window at the dark house with only the porch light on. She lived on a street with a cul-de-sac at the end. He decided he’d use it to make the turn to park directly in front of her house.
He’d just made the turn when another car entered the street. Its headlights blinded him for a moment. He blinked and slowed, easing to the side and waited. He’d let this idiot do whatever he wanted to do before he pulled in front of Frankie’s house. He might need a minute or two and didn’t need some Nosy-Nellie calling the cops.
Except the car didn’t pull into a random driveway, it pulled into Frankie’s, and Christian got out of the driver’s side. As Frankie opened her door, a smile on her face and laughter on the air, Christian was right there offering his hand. She slipped out of the car and he threw an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. Xavier ground his teeth together and watched in horror, anticipating the goodnight kiss. The porch light would spotlight the event, leaving nothing to the imagination. Even as his stomach tightened into knots, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
The train wreck was coming. He would most certainly be a casualty, and he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop the collision.
Frankie slid her key into the lock and turned to Christian. This was it. Xavier wanted to slam his eyes shut and sing a rendition of nah-nah-nah-I-can’t-hear-you, but couldn’t talk his lids into the retreat. But a kiss didn’t happen. Oh, no. Christian put his hand on her elbow and led her inside.
Xavier slammed the steering wheel with his palms and smashed the accelerator with his foot. The tires chirped as he took off into the night.
Who was he kidding? He’d already lost her. Hell, he’d never had her to begin with. Christian must be a saint or a fool to allow her to spend time with Xavier. But watching them together, maybe it was X who was the fool.
He opened the car’s engine up, deciding he’d allow the car to roar instead of doing it himself. He raced through a red light. A flash of blue and red showed up in his rearview and Xavier couldn’t have cared less. So he’d just gotten himself a ticket.
Whoopty damn deal!
Twenty minutes later, he hit the onramp for the I-15, ticket on the passenger seat, and ignored the sparkling happy-happy-joy-joy of the Strip. A power outage would be really good right about now.
A new billboard caught his attention and he cursed. Shirtless and larger than life, Christian smiled at him from the side of the highway, his chest and six pack advertising one of the male revues. Xavier hadn’t known the guy was a stripper.
Wasn’t that just freakin’ perfect! She could accept women throwing themselves at Christian, but not at him? What a double standard! And if she thought for one second the perfect, saintly Christian didn’t accept room keys or one-night-stands, she was an idiot!
And Frankie Holden might be a lot of things, but an idiot definitely wasn’t one of them.
Which meant he had a corner on the market.
If she truly believed in double standards, if she could believe Christian was an angel while believing Xavier was Lucifer incarnate for doing the same damned things, then by damn he’d force her to say it out loud to his face.
He hit the offramp and made the circle to enter going back the way he’d come.
* * *
True to his word, Christian had taken her out and the two of them had laughed themselves silly. Normally she wasn’t a fan of movies based on books because they never got it quite right, but this particular one had been cast perfectly.
Christian quoted the movie all the way home, keeping her in stitches. A car at the end of the street had its headlights on and Frankie raised a hand to shield her eyes. It looked like only the driver occupied the car, but she couldn’t be sure.
They pulled into the driveway and, still laughing, she and Christian went into the house.
“Mom, we’re home.”
Christian kissed her on the top of the head. “Thanks for bein’ my hot date.”
“Thanks for makin’ me laugh.”
“I’m gonna hit the head before something important bursts.”
Her mother passed Christian in the hall. She’d been in her room in the back of the house. Frankie hurried toward her. “Mom, you okay?”
“Yeah. I laid down for a bit and fell asleep.” She rubbed at her tired eyes. “How was the movie?”
Frankie filled her in on the funny storyline and the two of them still laughed when Christian came back. “What’d I miss?”
“Frankie was just telling me about the movie. You guys hungry?” Although the question sounded innocent enough, Frankie’s radar went up.
“Mom, did you get dinner?”
Her mother’s eyes hit the floor and the grip of her cane tightened. “No, and I’m a bit hungry. Do you two care to join me?”
“I’m always hungry, Char.” Christian headed off in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll whip up some omelets. Whatcha want on yours?”
