by Cari Quinn
She started ticking off the ingredients and Frankie smiled. Christian adored her mother as if she were his own, and since she’d practically raised the two of them together, Frankie surmised it made perfect sense.
She sat down at the large wooden table, her mother across from her and Christian at the stove. He fixed Charlotte’s omelet first, then started on one for himself since Frankie wasn’t really hungry. Popcorn and M&M’s at the movie had become dinner for her.
Charlotte cut her omelet with her fork and moaned when she put the bite into her mouth. “You should move in here and become our full time chef.”
Christian laughed. “Can’t, lady love. I’ve got a real job.”
Charlotte took a sip of her water then cut another piece of her omelet. “I wouldn’t call taking your clothes off for screaming women a real job. You need something more respectable.”
“You don’t respect me, Char?”
She choked on the bite she’d just taken and Frankie jumped to her feet. Her mother waved her off.
“I’m fine,” she said to Frankie before turning a serious, scalding look on Christian. “Of course I respect you, Chris. I just think you’re never going to find somebody respectable to love you if you’re off doing unrespectable things.”
Frankie sighed. This wasn’t the first time this subject had been debated and hashing it out again wouldn’t change either of their minds. She bent her arm, using it as a pillow for her head on the hard table top.
A pounding on the front door made all three of them jump. Frankie stood and Christian waved for her to sit down. “Are you guys expecting anybody?” When both she and her mother shook their heads, he headed in the direction of the door. “I’ll get it.”
* * *
Xavier shook like a leaf in a fierce wind, desperately holding onto its grip on the tree. It’d taken him a few minutes of standing on the porch, staring at the door before he’d raised his fist to pound.
Second thoughts and doubts galore raged.
He lifted his fist and the door flew open. Christian narrowed his eyes. Xavier didn’t let the guy open his mouth, just shoved the flowers at him and strode inside.
Quaint. Frankie’s home was … quaint. It certainly didn’t have all the modernized features he’d expected, but then she had said she’d been raised here. A beige overstuffed couch sat in front of an older television. The huge box rested on an enormous console.
“Xavier!” Frankie’s shout brought his attention to where she stood in the doorway of another room. “What are you doing here?”
“Yeah. What are you doing here?” Christian moved to block Xavier’s path to Frankie.
X ignored Christian and spoke only to Doc. “We need to talk.”
Christian stepped toward Xavier, pointing the flowers at him. “What if she doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“Chris.” Frankie’s gaze locked with his, holding tight as he strode across the room.
In a fluid motion he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her flush against his body and bent his head to hers. She gasped and eased her arms around his neck.
The moment their lips met, she opened to him, accepted him. He licked into her mouth, tasting her, needing to devour her, memorize every inch of her. She matched his assault, offering a parry of her own and he was lost. Her hands slipped up into his hair, her fingers threaded through the locks. She tugged and, with the last tiny shred of control he had left, he eased away from her, touching his forehead to hers.
Christian cleared his throat from behind him. Xavier tensed. He straightened, turned and edged Frankie behind him. Christian raised a blond brow and grinned. “Where can I get me one of those?”
Xavier blinked, his mouth fell open a bit. Christian had not just asked for a kiss. He blinked again.
Christian chuckled. “Beautiful as she is, she’s not my type.”
Frankie moved around Xavier. “I think it’s time for you to go home, Chris.”
The guy smiled, showing off all his teeth. “Treat her right, man. I love her more than any other woman in the world and I will kick your ass if you make her cry.”
Xavier stood stunned, still trying to piece together what’d happened. Apparently Christian wasn’t a rival for Frankie’s affection.
Whoa! Hadn’t seen that coming!
Frankie stepped up and put her hand on Christian’s chest. “Good night, Chris.”
Christian bent and kissed her forehead, handed her the roses. “Congratulations. Love you.” And then he left.
* * *
Fear kept Frankie facing forward, mesmerized by the closed door. The scent from the flowers overpowered her senses. Actually everything about the last few minutes overpowered her senses. Every part of her tingled and buzzed.
“You must be Xavier.”
Frankie whirled around to see her mother standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning heavily on her cane. Her smile spanned from ear to ear. She limped over to Xavier, who wore a holy shit! expression on his handsome face.
He hurried over to her and held out his hand. “Yes, I’m Matthias Xavier.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He shifted, his smile faltered. “You can’t believe everything you hear.”
“Oh.” Her smile brightened. “I’d heard you were won-der-ful.” She emphasized the last sing-songed word by clutching her hand to her heart.
He laughed and turned to look at Frankie again. For the first time in her life, she considered killing her mother. Xavier didn’t look away from her. In slow steps, like she might bolt, he approached her.
“I didn’t intend to do this in front of your mother.”
Charlotte Holden smiled at them both and made her way forward. She took the roses from Frankie’s numb fingers. “I’ll take them and put them in some water. You two have a lot to talk about.”
Without waiting for her mother to be out of the room completely, Xavier’s hands engulfed hers. She looked down at their entwined fingers, her heart skittered when he ran his thumb over her knuckles.
“I know there are issues between us. I wish there weren’t. Yeah … there ya go. I’m not perfect, never have been, probably never will be, but I know I can’t go another day without you, Doc. These last few weeks have been hell. An honest-to-God hell on earth. I’ve missed you like crazy.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out through rounded lips. “I thought I could just walk away from you … from everything we shared. I thought one weekend would be enough. It’s not. Not by a long shot.”
Her heart thudded nervously. The words were exactly what she wanted to hear, but if it’s too good to be true…
“What changed?”
His brows pinched. He chewed on his lip, shook his head. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Me? Us. Hell, I don’t know.” He ran a finger over her cheek. “What I do know, Doc, is that I don’t want to go another day without you in my life. Please—” He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “All I ask is a chance.”
She sighed, afraid to hope. Terrified not to. “What kind of chance would you like?”
“Dinner. The team hits the road tomorrow and I’m going with them.”
“I thought that wasn’t happening until next week.”
Xavier shrugged, and smirked. “Apparently they don’t tell you everything.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “Say you’ll have dinner with me.”
She still had doubts. His past was still his past and it still bothered her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get over seeing him with other women. Speaking of which…
“Who’s Emma?”
His brows frowned. “Emma?”
“Yeah, tonight you went out with someone named Emma. Who is she?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but I didn’t go out with Emma. In fact we stayed in.”
Frankie’s blood boiled and she tugged at her hands. Xavier only tightened his hold, digging his thumb into the flesh of her palm. He shrugged. “I
t was no big deal. Just a little birthday celebration.”
The amused twinkle in his eyes pissed her off. She dug her nails into his hand and ground her teeth to keep from screaming.
Xavier leaned in close and she only barely resisted the impulse to bite his ear off. His chuckles tickled her own ears and, as she liquefied, she reminded herself of her animosity.
“Relax, sweet thang.” He breathed right next to her ear. “Emma is a bit young for me, besides her father would kill me.”
“Like that’s stopped you before.” She smacked her head against his, making her vision go wonky.
“Ow!” He released her hands and rubbed at his head. “Now that wasn’t nice.”
“I think you should leave.” She stomped to the door, whipping it wide.
He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not going anywhere until I tell you all about my date with Emma Pierce.”
“I don’t want to hear—” She tipped her head to the side and drank in his cocky grin. “Wait a second. Pierce. Emma. Birthday.” He nodded. She slammed the door and ran toward him to slug him in the arm. “That was so not funny!”
He laughed, pulled her into a hug. His huge hands cupped her bottom and pressed her into him. “I kind of enjoyed it.”
“Don’t ever do that to me again.” She didn’t wait for his promise. She kissed him. He tasted like sugar and man and every delicious thing she’d ever tasted all at the same time. She couldn’t get enough. Kisses were suddenly no longer enough. She needed him all over her with nothing between them. Now. She reached for the buttons of his shirt.
His hands slid up her back under her shirt and she felt scalded. He unlatched her bra and his hands moved around her ribcage.
“How about you come home with me?”
Reality rose up and doused her. She stiffened. She slid down his body, feeling evidence of the effect their make-out session had on him. She didn’t experience the need to do a victory dance, though. She felt a little sick.
She tried to find her big girl panties, to admit the truth to him, but offered a simple, “I can’t,” instead.
He nodded and she knew he knew exactly what the problem was. His past would always be his past and it would always bother her.
“Okay, sweet thang—”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Wha—”
“I’m Frankie.” She wrapped her arms around herself, hoping to hold all the shattering pieces together. “That’s what you call all the others. I don’t want to be one of the others. I want to be the one and only.”
She went back to the door and opened it. If he didn’t hurry up and get the hell out of her house, she wouldn’t be able to keep it together. Especially when he stood before her looking so vulnerable, so broken.
He slowly joined her at the door. “When I get back, will you please have dinner with me?”
She nodded, not sure having dinner would change anything. “Good night.”
When he walked out the door, he may as well have taken her heart with him, instead she got out the proverbial broom and swept up the pieces herself.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Frankie signed the bottom of another medical record and shut the folder. It always amazed her how much she got done when the team went on the road. It’d never bothered her in the past. In fact, she’d kind of enjoyed the reprieve. To a point. Because once she got caught up, she got bored.
She put the final file on the top of the stack and sat back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. Damn, it was quieter than a bar at sunrise.
Needing some kind of auditory stimulation, she crossed her office and opened the door. Of course the hallway would be empty, but knowing it didn’t stop her from sticking her head out and looking down one way then the other.
Thanks to helping Xavier with his recovery, it’d been a long time since she’d faced the isolated insanity. Truth was, she didn’t like this at all.
She grabbed the door, stepped back and, tugging it open, she slammed it. The glass in the window rattled, the echo of wood door against metal jam ricocheted through her office. She wondered if the groundskeepers had heard it. She sighed and returned to her desk.
Tapping a pen against the desk top, she glanced around at her office. The only indications of Frankie’s personal life included a picture of her mother, a close-up of her and Christian mid laugh, and diplomas declaring her capable of the job. She supposed it fit. A person shouldn’t clutter their professional workspace with personal items.
And they shouldn’t complicate their personal life by bringing their professional side home.
Oh, but she wanted to be complicated.
She thought of Xavier for the umpteenth time since he’d left. The last two days felt more like a lifetime. Maybe it had been. That would explain why she had nothing to do.
The shrill ring of her office phone came out of nowhere. She jumped and nearly sent herself over backward. It was weird it would be her office phone ringing. Since everybody was gone. She breathed deep, sent a prayer to the heavens nobody’d been injured, and picked up the phone.
“Holden.”
“Hey, Doc.” The greeting washed over her as warm and soothing as a gentle, loving caress.
“Hey, yourself,” she breathed, feeling a little like a phone sex operator.
“I’ve missed you.”
Hearing him say those words made her want to hop on the next flight to join him. Screw her concerns. Instead she did her best to play it cool.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“I didn’t call to talk about my shoulder.” Deep sigh. He probably ran a hand through his hair too.
“Oh. Okay.” She was so lame. “Why’d you call?”
He laughed, a short snort of … annoyance? “I already told you; I’ve missed you.”
“It’s only been two days,” she said, but man, she’d missed him like crazy.
“And I’ve missed you.” He paused and she pictured him shaking his head or rolling his eyes. “I’m not usually the kind of guy to fish for compliments but—”
“That’s because women offer them easily.”
Another snort. “Ouch.”
“I’m just sayin’.” She shrugged and sat back in her chair, popping her feet on top. “You don’t have to fish for compliments because you’re constantly being told how wonderful you are.”
“Except from the one woman I want to hear it from.” His clipped tone stopped her short, the smile dissolving from her face.
“Xavier, I’ve missed you, too.”
“Now, was that so hard?” She heard his smile.
“No. It wasn’t hard at all.” She curled her finger in the phone cord. “Since we’ve got that out of the way, how’s your shoulder?”
“Fine. No pain. I’ve been working out a bit.” He laughed softly. “You’ll be happy to know Grayson’s taking his assignment very seriously.”
Frankie blushed. She hadn’t meant for Xavier to figure out Grayson played the part of her eyes and ears. She could have asked Jeff, probably should have, considering he was the guy responsible for the team on the road. But Grayson and Xavier were as close as brothers and she wanted someone who loved X as much as she—
No, she wasn’t going there.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Doc.”
She smiled. “I just didn’t want you to do anything stupid.”
“I’m done being stupid, Frankie.” Long, drawn out pause. “In every aspect of my life.”
She knew exactly what he referenced to, but this phone call wasn’t the time and, with all the miles between them, it wasn’t the place, either.
“What’s your favorite color?”
He laughed. “Subtle subject change, sweet th- ah, heart.”
“Lemme guess. You seem like you’d prefer a manly color.” She tapped her finger on her bottom lip. “Blue?”
“How stereotypical.”
“Gr
een?”
He burst out laughing. She imagined his amused face and smiled. “My favorite color would be pink.”
“Huh uh.” She shook her head, feeling at home in her own skin. “I’m being serious here.”
“So am I.” His voice softened, grew wistful. “My favorite color is the pinky orange of a Nevada sunset.”
Wow! Not what she’d expected at all.
“Same question, sweetheart. What’s your favorite color?”
How was she supposed to follow up his answer? Anything she said would sound shallow and cheesy. So she went with the truth. “Yellow.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But not light yellow. It’s gotta be the bright happy sunshine yellow.”
“Happy yellow. Got it.” He chuckled softly and she wondered what he thought. “Are you a sweet, sappy, chick flick kinda girl?”
Her shoulder lifted. “Not really. I’m more of an action flick girl. The more gun fights, the better.”
“Blood and guts or horror?”
“Neither. You?”
He paused, thinking. “I like the old Stallone and Willis kind of flicks.”
“Not a fan of First Blood, but I love Rocky, and DieHard. Classic!”
“I knew I loved you.”
And like a nuclear bomb, the blast from the L-word mushroomed in the air between them. Except only she seemed to suffer from the fallout. His chuckles continued. So either he didn’t notice he’d said it or he used the word all the time and it meant nothing. She guessed probably the latter.
“I own them all,” he continued, unfazed. “We should do a movie marathon.”
She tried to remain light throughout the rest of their conversation. He was playful and friendly and funny. Absolutely charming. They talked for an hour, discussing music, food, cars, even exercise habits.
“I already know you’re not a fan of Pilates.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” She opened her desk drawer and pulled out the peach exercise band that had been so offensive to him. “You insisted you were a man and—”
“I was just being an ass.”
“Ha!” She tugged the band between her hands, feeling her forearms tighten. “That’s putting it lightly.”
