by Multi-Author
He had quite a few of them growing in his backyard. Now he realized why he’d planted them. They reminded him of her. She’d always been so open and bright, like the flowers.
He traced his finger over several of the petals, stopping only when she stirred. “Frank?”
“I’m here.” When he pulled the cover over her, she gave a sigh of relief and drifted back to sleep. In a few hours he’d take her to his home. The sense of satisfaction that gave him went bone deep.
No one was going to hurt her. Not again.
Chapter Three
Martha stood in the middle of Frank’s living room and looked around with avid curiosity. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing here. She could have called one of her friends. There were several she could have stayed with. But there was a part of her that wanted to spend more time with Frank and see where he lived.
“It’s not fancy, but it’s comfortable.” He put his hand on the small of her back and steered her toward a short hallway.
“It’s wonderful,” she told him. And it was. The space was decidedly masculine with its oversized chairs and sectional sofa. There were no throw pillows or candles or overt signs of a female living here. She didn’t question why that made her feel better.
“The bedrooms are down here.” He led her into a small room that contained a bed, nightstand and dresser and nothing else. There was no clutter on the dresser and no pictures on the walls. The only accessory was a bedside lamp with a white shade.
He set the two bags he was carrying on the bed. “You can put your stuff in the drawers. They’re empty.”
Somehow that didn’t surprise her. This entire room looked totally unused. “I’m surprised you have a house and not an apartment.” His house was detached and in an older neighborhood that was being revitalized.
He raked his fingers through his hair and then tucked his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. The action drew her eyes downward and they landed on the heavy bulge that pressed against his zipper. She had to force her gaze back to his face.
“I like my privacy.”
“And I’m invading it.” She suddenly felt uncertain of her welcome in his home. “You should have taken me to a hotel.” She’d already contacted her insurance company from the hospital and they’d agreed to advance her money for immediate expenses. Her purse and all her identification had gone up in flames. It would take time to have it all reissued.
“No.” His tone was adamant. “I want you here.”
“You’re worried, aren’t you? About the fire?” She knew she was. It was hard to comprehend the fact that someone wanted her dead. Okay, maybe not her specifically. She was still vague on that. But that someone would intentionally set a fire with the expressed intent of harming people? “Have you heard anything from the investigators?”
Frank sighed and tugged her into his arms. She knew she should step away but she loved the feel of his heavily muscled arms around her and leaned against him. Resting her head on his chest, she listened to the strong beat of his heart.
“They’re still looking into things.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head, and she tried to wrestle her wayward hormones back into submission. This was not the time to even considering trying to rekindle a relationship with an old flame.
Martha made herself push away from Frank. It was harder than it should have been. She reached into the shopping bags and began to pull out what constituted the sum total of her worldly goods. Frank had stopped at a department store on the way home and she’d picked up the essentials. She had a hairbrush, toothbrush and other basic grooming items as well as a nightgown, underwear, a sundress, a pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, a couple of tops and a pair of canvas flats. It would get her through a couple of days.
She’d also stopped into the attached hair salon and had the damaged ends trimmed. Her hair was now several inches shorter, landing at her shoulders instead of partway down her back.
There was still so much to do. The task of replacing everything she’d lost was daunting. She took a deep breath and slowly released it. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Hey, everything will be okay.”
“You can’t know that,” she snapped. Martha rubbed her forehead. Her head was throbbing.
It had been a long day. It had been almost lunchtime before the doctor had made his rounds and discharged her from the hospital. She’d borrowed Frank’s phone and called the gallery, her insurance company, and several friends, assuring them she was fine and would be in touch in a few days. Then they’d made the trip to the busy department store where she’d been almost overwhelmed by how much she needed to purchase. She’d barely made a dent in her long list.
“I’m sorry.” She tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. Frank had been nothing but kind to her. Hell, the man had not only saved her life, he’d also opened his home to her. He didn’t deserve her temper but her thanks.
“Nothing to be sorry for, honey.” He stroked one big hand over her head, brushing her hair out of her face. “You’ve been through a lot in a short period of time.”
That was putting it mildly.
“Why don’t you take a shower. You’ll feel better and you can lie down after you eat something. I’ll make you some tea and soup. That should be easy on your throat.”
She nodded and began to gather what she needed. If she tried to speak she knew she’d probably end up crying like a baby. He was being so kind and her emotions were dangerously close to the surface.
Frank leaned down and brushed his lips over her. The kiss was brief but it exploded with the intensity of a nuclear bomb, blowing away every wall she’d put in place to protect herself. Martha felt lightheaded and vulnerable.
She pulled away and grabbed what she needed, holding it in front of her like a protective barrier.
“Bathroom?” she asked.
“This way.” She could tell he was concerned about her but, fortunately, didn’t ask her any questions as he led her to the main bathroom. It wasn’t overly large and it had obviously been updated in the past few years. All the plumbing fixtures appeared new, the tub gleamed and large slate tiles covered the floor. Like the rest of the place, it was completely masculine.
“Towels are in there.” He pointed to the freestanding mahogany-colored cabinet in the corner.
“Thank you.” That sounded so inadequate considering what he’d done for her, but it came from the heart. “Thank you,” she said again.
“Don’t mention it.” His blue eyes softened. “It’s my pleasure.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, touching the place he’d kissed her only moments before. Her entire body began to hum. “Don’t be too long.”
He left her alone, standing in the bathroom with her arms loaded down. When the door shut behind her, she let out a breath and dumped everything on the vanity. She tried not to think about the mess that was her life and concentrated on her shower. She’d feel better once she was clean and wearing fresh clothes. The scrubs the nurse had scrounged up for her to wear were comfortable but they smelled of the hospital.
Martha opened the cabinet and pulled out a large white towel and facecloth. She smiled and shook her head. All the towels were white—basic and utilitarian. Another indication he lived alone and didn’t have a serious girlfriend.
She didn’t delve too deeply why that lightened her heart. She put her new bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the edge of the tub and unwrapped a new bar of lavender-scented soap. The bathroom didn’t smell like Frank. Nor did it look as though it was used that often. He must have a bath off the master bedroom.
Her heart clenched. Maybe there were colored towels in there. Maybe that’s where the signs of a woman in his life would reside. “Stupid.” She cranked on the water. While it was warming, she pulled off her borrowed clothing and dropped it onto the floor. “It doesn’t matter if he’s single or attached,” she muttered. She stepped beneath the spray and let the water cascade over her.
Then she grabbed the cloth, soaped it up and began to scrub. “What you had is over.” And if she said it often enough maybe she’d even start to believe it.
Frank stood outside the bathroom door until he heard the water come on in the shower. He swallowed hard and had to reach down and adjust his thick erection, which was pressing hard against the front of his jeans. Martha was naked. In his shower.
“God have mercy.” He forced himself to walk away and head to the kitchen. She wouldn’t be long and she needed to eat. She looked pale and worn, and incredibly fragile. Although, he knew the last was deceiving. She might be momentarily down, but Martha had always been a force to be reckoned with. He didn’t imagine that had changed much over the years.
He opened the cupboard and perused the offerings. He chose chicken noodle soup, the universal cure-all for everything. It didn’t take him long to open the can and dump the contents into a saucepan. He added water and set it on the stove to heat.
He started a pot of coffee for himself and boiled the kettle for tea for Martha. He didn’t have any fancy herbal stuff, just regular, old-fashioned tea. And that was only because a woman he’d dated a few months back had liked it.
Frank frowned at the plain white dishes he took down from the cupboard. It had never bothered him with other women who’d been here, but he wondered how Martha saw his home. Even he had to admit he had only the most basic items needed. This was a house, not a home.
The place felt different with Martha in it. As thought the one thing that had been missing was finally there.
“Fuck.” He lowered his head and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. He had to get a grip on himself. Just because he had feelings for her didn’t mean she still had them for him.
She hadn’t exactly kissed him back when he’d tested the waters in the bedroom. She hadn’t pushed him away either so that was something. Maybe he’d been wrong to leave all those years ago. He’d been young and scared to death. His biggest fear had been hurting Martha.
He lifted his right hand in the air and concentrated. Flames rose from the tips of his fingers and danced in the air. He heard the bathroom door open and closed his hand. The fire immediately extinguished.
He had more control now, knew what he was.
Would Martha understand? Could she still love him or would she run screaming in terror? And the biggest question of all—was he brave enough to find out?
It was like taking a fist to the gut when she walked into the kitchen. Her hair was damp and she was wearing a pale green nightgown. It left her arms bare but wide straps held it up. The garment fell to her knees, covering her adequately. It was loose, made for comfort not seduction. And Frank found it sexier than any lingerie could have been.
He narrowed his gaze, trying desperately to see through the fabric. Was she wearing underwear?
“Ah, Frank, the soup is boiling.”
“What?” His tongue felt thick and his clothes about two sizes too small.
“The soup.” Martha pushed past him, leaving a trail of lavender behind her. She moved the pot from the burner before shutting it off.
“Shit.” He had to stop drooling after her like an adolescent idiot. “Sorry about that.” He nudged her out of the way. “Sit down and I’ll take care of this.”
She wasn’t wearing a bra. That much was obvious by the way her breasts swayed beneath the nightgown. Fire might not kill him, but Frank feared a heart attack might. His heart was racing a hundred miles a minute.
He forced himself to ladle soup into the bowl and carry it to the table. He got her cutlery and even tore off a piece of paper towel to act as a napkin. Martha thanked him for the soup and began to eat. Instead of watching her, as he wanted to, he made her a cup of tea and then poured himself a coffee. When he ran out of things to do, he sat down across from her.
“How are you feeling?” She looked a little better but there were still dark circles under her eyes and there was no hiding the fatigue that had her shoulders drooping.
“Tired.” She sipped the tea and stirred the soup with her spoon. “When do you have to work again?”
Frank sat back and smiled. “I’m on vacation.”
Martha set her spoon down. She’d only eaten half the soup. “I’m spoiling it. You must have had plans.”
“Hell no.” He rose from his chair, walked around the table and crouched down beside her. “Having you here is better than any plans I might have had,” he assured her.
He could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn’t believe him. That was okay. He had the next two weeks to convince her. “If you’re finished eating, you should probably lie down and rest.”
“I am tired,” she admitted.
“You go do what you need to do and crawl into bed. I’ll clean up out here and come check on you.”
“Okay.”
He wished he knew what she was thinking. He wanted to explore the feelings he still had for her, wanted to know if the spark was still there for her. But it was too soon. She’d been through a trauma and needed rest and comfort, not him pressuring her.
“Patience, Ellis,” he warned himself.
He listened and knew when she brushed her teeth, heard the flush of the toilet and the tap running while she washed her hands. He put the dishes in the dishwasher and rinsed out the pot.
When he heard her walk into the bedroom, he turned off the coffeepot and went to her. She’d pulled back the covers and was lying in bed with her eyes closed.
He went to the window and opened it to allow the slight breeze in. Then he angled the slats of the blind to block out most of the sunlight. He lingered, not wanting to leave. He tugged the cover up around her. He knew he should leave so she could rest. “I’ll be out in the kitchen if you need me.”
“Frank.”
He went back to her. “What?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced away. He sat down on the bed beside her. “What is it? You can ask me anything, you know that.”
“Stay with me?” The words came out in a rush.
Frank wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “You want me to stay with you?”
“I shouldn’t have asked. You probably have a girlfriend and you have better things to do than babysit me. I’m not even sure why I asked.” She was babbling now, something she only did when she was nervous.
“Hey.” He caught her chin between this thumb and forefinger. “First of all, I’m glad you asked. No, I don’t have a girlfriend. And there is nothing I’d rather do than stay here with you.”
Frank stood and climbed onto the bed behind her. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back into the curve of his body. Everything inside him settled. Home. He was finally back where he belonged.
Martha barely dared to breathe. Frank was in bed with her. Okay, they were both fully dressed and he was on top of the covers while she was under them, but still.
“I can hear you thinking,” he teased.
She couldn’t help but smile. Frank had always understood her better than anyone else ever had. “Did you ever get married?” She had to know.
“No.” He hesitated for a moment. “You?”
“Yes.”
He stilled behind her. “Did you love him?”
Was that pain she heard in his voice? It couldn’t be. He’d left her, after all.
“I thought I did.” That had always bothered her. She’d often wondered if her marriage had failed because she still loved another man. She’d never really gotten over Frank.
“What happened?” She loved Frank’s voice. It was smooth and deep, like fine aged whisky.
She stared at the plain beige wall. “He cheated on me.” And that had gutted her as a woman.
“He’s an idiot.” Frank eased back and rolled her until she was on her back. He loomed over her, big and strong.
“You left me.” She hadn’t meant to say that. Wished she could call back the bitter words.
&nbs
p; “I was an idiot.” He tried to smile. “I was young and stupid and thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Why?” It was the one thing she’d never understood. The boy she’d known would never have left her without a word. Even though that’s exactly what he’d done. “We hadn’t fought. We’d even made plans.”
Plans she hadn’t been able to forget. She’d waited a decade for Frank to come back to her and then had married the first man who’d shown interest in her when she decided she was done waiting. She’d shortchanged both herself and her ex-husband.
“I know.” He sighed and his eyes were troubled. “You should rest. We’ll talk about this later.”
She closed her eyes as pain knifed through her. He wasn’t going to tell her why.
“When did you get the tattoo?” he asked.
“Not long after you left. When I still had hope.” The sunflower had been a symbol for her, a belief that he would return to her.
His lips pressed against hers and her eyes flew open. His blue eyes were alight with an emotion she knew all too well. Frank wanted her. She opened her mouth to speak and he slid his tongue inside. She moaned as he delved deeper. His taste was familiar and her entire body heated with longing.
She’d missed him so much.
Danger signs flashed in her brain and she pulled back even though part of her yearned to stay. She couldn’t forget that he’d left her and she still didn’t know why.
He brushed his lips over hers one final time. “Rest. We’ll talk when you’re more rested.”
They certainly would. One way or the other, she was getting answers.
She turned onto her side and Frank moved in behind her once again. His arm came around her and the evidence of his desire pressed against her bottom. She wiggled and his arm tightened.
