The Way To A Man’s Heart: Books 1-10

by Love, Frankie

  “Not yet,” I say, pulling on my pants.

  She frowns. “Why not?”

  I reach into my suit coat, grabbing a black velvet box. Now I’m the one on my knees, kneeling before the love of my life.

  “I was going to ask you at lunch, but I can’t pho-king wait another moment. Marry me, Trista. Be my wife, my forever.”

  She gasps, surprised, as I take the diamond ring from the box, offering it to her. “Of course,” she says as I slip the ring onto her finger. “God, good thing I did my nails today.”

  I laugh. “Girl, your nails are always done.”

  “Fair,” she says, giggling as I stand and pull her into my arms. “I love you, Trent, and I can’t wait to spend pho-ever with you.”

  Epilogue 2

  Trista

  10 years later…

  My mind is filled with the words from the phone call I just ended. I feel scattered, emotional, and like life is speeding up all around me.

  The morning has felt rushed, getting the triplets fed and dressed. Lily is refusing to put on her pants, Ivy tossed her oatmeal across the room, and Juniper won’t stop saying “No way!” — a phrase she recently learned and won’t stop repeating. Terrible twos are legit. And I am legitimately losing my mind.

  That phrase, Girl Boss? My daughters have already figured out what that means because I swear, some days it feels like they are the boss of me.

  Thankfully my mother-in-law, Sandra, is here now, telling me she can handle it. Wiping up the oats from the floor, finding a dress for Lily since the pants seem like a deal-breaker, and offering a new phrase to Juniper to replace the old one. “Love you, Mama.”

  I smile, thinking that is much nice to hear on repeat.

  “Why do you think I moved to town? To help with my grandbabies, Trista.”

  “Okay, I just feel bad,” I say. Mom-guilt is a real thing too, and even though I know being a working mother isn’t something to feel bad about, I still constantly struggle with all my responsibilities.

  Wife. Mother. Business owner. Friend. Sister. Sister-in-law. Daughter.

  It’s a lot.

  I’m so grateful for Sandra. When Trent and I found out we were expecting, we were overjoyed… but when we found out we were having three girls, it was hard to take in.

  Of course, being a girly girl myself, having daughters was a dream come true… but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it all.

  Turns out, I can’t.

  No one can.

  Which is why opening my heart and letting more people into my life to support Trent and me, and our girls, has been a game changer.

  “Why did you bring a suitcase?” I ask as I dig around the hallway for my heels. They must be buried somewhere under the pile of coats and bags.

  Sandra smiles. “You and Trent aren’t coming home after work tonight. Go pack a bag for you both, get dinner, a hotel room — I will see you tomorrow.”

  I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Do we really seem that frazzled?”

  Sandra picks up Lily and places her on her hip as Ivy and Juniper both manage to find one of my heels in the hallway clutter, producing them with a, “Ta-da!”

  “It’s not a judgment. It’s called a support system.”

  I start crying, shaking my head.

  “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Tears fall down my cheek. “No, they’re not sad tears. It’s just… the timing is so great because I have something to tell Trent tonight. Something big.”

  Sandra’s eyes go wide. “Is everything okay?”

  I laugh. “I guess it’s all about perspective.” I shake my head. “I’m pregnant, three months. I had no idea… we weren’t trying. I went in yesterday, and the office called this morning with the news.”

  Sandra’s hand covers her mouth. “Oh, Trista, this is wonderful.”

  “Yeah? Trent will be as shocked as me.”

  “You two have been through so many hard times, but you’re amazing parents, and this little baby is so lucky to have you.”

  My eyes well up with tears again. “It explains why I’ve been crying over everything and why my jeans won’t button.”

  Sandra laughs. “Go pack that bag, and maybe pack it for two nights — I think you and Trent need more time to adjust to this.”

  I give her a hug, thanking her for being here for us.

  “Always, Trista.”

  And I know she means it. She says being a grandma is what she has been waiting years for, and that having a daughter-in-law has brought her so much joy.

  I wipe the tears away as I walk up the stairs to the master bedroom. If Trent and I are sneaking away for a few days, I am going to make sure the love my life has an un-pho-getable time.

  * * *

  Trent and I slide into our seats at a new, upscale Vietnamese restaurant in town. The moment I picked him up, I told him the news. It’s impossible to keep things from him.

  He is still in shock.

  The waitress brings us our bowls of piping hot pho. I rip pieces of basil into mine, and he adds bean sprouts to his. We fix up our meal in silence and it’s killing me.

  “Say something,” I urge, squeezing Sriracha onto my soup.

  “It’s just… incredible.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Incredibly good or bad?”

  “What?” he reaches across the table for my hand. “Good. Great. Amazing. Everything.”

  “Oh,” I exhale. “I thought your silence meant you weren’t happy.”

  “I’m just stunned. When we got pregnant with the girls, it was after two rounds of in vitro. It was after a lot of hard years and a lot of loss… so for this to happen without any intervention, it feels like a miracle.”

  I nod, blinking back a fresh batch of tears. “That is what the doctor said.”

  Trent squeezes my hand. “I love you so much, Trista. I can’t believe we get to have another child.” I see tears in his eyes too.

  “Do you hope it’s a boy?”

  He gives me a half-smile, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes. “No. I’m a girl-dad, Trista. I’d be a lucky man if I had another daughter.”

  Now we are both in a heap of tears and we haven’t even eaten, but our hearts are so full.

  So pho-king full.

  You’re Waffle-Y Cute

  The Way To A Man’s Heart Book 6

  By Frankie Love

  Bailey says waffles are her favorite.

  So, when I ask her to prom, I make sure she knows just how waffle-y cute I think she is.

  But she’s more than adorable — she’s everything.

  Most people think Bailey’s shy — but I know it’s more than that.

  The girl I love is hiding the truth.

  And when she goes MIA the night of the dance, I’m scared she might be in serious trouble.

  I’m done being cute — I’m ready to fight for my girl.

  Even if it means losing everything else.

  Truth is, I love Bailey a waffle lot.

  Dear Reader,

  When you know, you know.

  Billy has plans — and he doesn’t care if people think eighteen is too young to make a life-long commitment.

  He’s ready to make Bailey his waffley wedded wife.

  Grab some whipped cream and maple syrup because things are about to get sticky sweet!

  xo, frankie

  Chapter One

  Billy

  She wears low top white Converse, with pink laces, every day. She wears button-up shirts tucked into light washed denim jeans and cardigans, her long brown hair in a high ponytail, a ribbon tied around it. Her face looks freshly washed every time I see her, and her blue eyes are bright.

  But I know that appearances are deceiving.

  She always looks so polished, so put together, but now it seems she is falling apart.

  Here she is, in a puddle of tears, waiting at the city bus stop, reading a schedule.

  “Do you need help?” I ask her. We
went to middle school together, and I had the biggest crush on her, but then she moved away for five years. Now we’re seniors, and she’s back in town.

  I don’t think she remembers me.

  But God, I remember her.

  I’ve seen her in the hallways for the last month, always with her nose in a book. Hard to reach. Definitely out of my league. But here she is waiting for a bus, upset. This, I can help with.

  She looks up at me, and I realize just how beautiful she is. She wipes at her eyes. “Oh, I’m fine, just…” She shakes her head. “A bit… frustrated.” Her words seem to fail her. “Do you ever have those days where it just feels like one thing after the next?”

  I nod, wanting so badly to wrap my arms around her and comfort her somehow. “I’m Billy. I go to Taylor too — I’ve seen you there.”

  Her eyes lift. “You do?”

  I run a hand over the back of my neck. “Yeah, you probably haven’t seen me because you’ve always got your nose in a book.”

  She smiles slightly at that. “Sounds about right.”

  “So, what is the problem?” I ask.

  She waves the schedule in the air. “The next bus isn’t for an hour. I read it wrong.”

  Frowning, I take a look at it. “Where are you traveling to?” I thought most routes ran more regularly.

  “Oh, I’m one county over. So, I have to transfer.” She shakes her head. “It’s a whole thing.”

  I twist my lips, not wanting to let this conversation end. I see the diner, Hot Spot, ahead and get an idea.

  “Want to get something to eat across the street while you wait?”

  She bites her bottom lip, considering.

  “My treat,” I add. “I was going there anyways.”

  “Were you really?”

  I chuckle. “Let’s just say I’m suddenly craving something sweet.”

  She nods then, tucking the schedule in the pocket of her backpack. “That sounds really nice, Billy. I’m Bailey, by the way.”

  “I know.”

  She lifts her eyebrows as we go to the crosswalk. “You know my name?”

  I give a shrug as we reach the diner. “I’m Billy Barton, and we actually went to Taft Middle School together too, but that was years ago.” I pull open the door for her and she enters.

  “Really?” She turns to me and smiles. “You know, I thought you looked familiar but you’re so… so much…” Her cheeks to turn red and she shakes her head.

  “So much what?”

  She giggles. “Well, a lot bigger. In general.”

  I laugh, giving Valerie a wave. She owns this place, and she is a friend of my older sister, Kourtney. “That’s fair. I was what, 80 pounds in seventh grade? Now I’m nearly triple that.”

  I am 6’4” and do lots of weight training. “I wrestled all through school and it didn’t mean I was popular, but it did give me a place to focus my anger. It was especially good after my mom passed a few years ago. I was pretty wrecked.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Bailey says, taking my hand just as Valerie comes over to greet us with a pair of menus. She looks down at our hands and I see her bite back a smile.

  God, small towns, right? I bet my sister will know about this before the hour’s up.

  But I don’t mind. I want the world to know I am with the girl I’ve been in love with since I was twelve years old. Now I’m eighteen — a man — and I know how to fight.

  You better believe I’ll fight for my chance with Bailey.

  Bailey

  Billy Barton.

  I can’t believe it.

  Here I am sitting with the one boy who always looked out for me in small ways in middle school. He probably doesn’t even remember it. He was always so polite, so gentle and kind. He’d make sure I got picked for a team in PE, made sure I wasn’t sitting alone in the bleachers at assemblies, and when kids picked on me for my secondhand clothes, he always got them to be quiet. Which was impressive, considering he wasn’t a big kid. But he had no tolerance for bullies.

  Now he’s a wrestler. I’m not surprised. He looks so strong, so masculine and so grown-up, it makes my heartbeat quicken just to look at him.

  And he is still as polite as ever. Offering to pay for my meal, looking out for me.

  God, I wish I had him in my corner the last five years. I needed a man like him in ways he wouldn’t understand.

  “What sounds good?” the waitress asks.

  I scan the menu quickly and ask for coffee with cream. “And waffles. Please.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Billy says, giving our menus back.

  “Sounds good Billy and…” She looks at me.

  “Bailey,” I say.

  “I’m Val. Friends with Billy’s sister. I’ll get your orders right up.”

  When we are alone again in the booth, I try to calm my nerves. I don’t go out with guys — ever — especially not guys like Billy.

  I’m a girl form the other side of the tracks and he is — well, he’s as all-American as it gets. From money, a great family, the kind of person who will go to college and have a perfect life all ready for him.

  “So, you live a county over?” he asks.

  I nod as we get our coffee. How do I explain this? Stirring in my creamer, I try. “Yeah, after I left Taft all those years ago, we moved around a lot, my mom and me. Right now, we’re at a motel in Sunnyslope. It’s temporary. A few months ago, when I enrolled at Taylor, we were staying with friends here.” I shrug. “It’s complicated.”

  Billy takes a drink of his coffee as the waffles arrive. My stomach growls. He hears it.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I’m just so hungry.”

  “Did you have lunch?”

  I nod. “I get free lunch at school but lots of times it’s…well, it’s all I have.” I exhale, not knowing how to explain. He waits for me as I breathe in the sugary sweetness of the waffles. He takes my hand in his across the table, gently. I don’t pull back.

  “I hate that you’re eating a meal a day. And that you’re homeless. Bailey, I had no idea.” He shakes his head, his thumb rubbing the top of my hand. I feel a wave of emotion rise up in me.

  I shake my head. Embarrassed. “I’m not trying to get your sympathy.”

  He gives me a half-smile. “I know. But I do care.” He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs, and I have this thought of him kissing me, of him never letting me go. I could melt in his arms. A man I just reunited with after so many years. We were just children before, but now we’re all grown up.

  He nods at my fork, telling me to eat up. “Don’t want to let it get cold.”

  I pour syrup over the golden stack. “This is my favorite. My ultimate comfort food.”

  “You know,” he tells me, “I always had such a crush on you.”

  My eyes widen. “On me?”

  “Yeah,” he says softly. “On you. I always thought — and still do think — you are waffle-y cute.”

  Chapter Two

  Billy

  I’m stunned — heartbroken and surer than ever that those feelings I had for her, that I have never let die, are still as strong as ever.

  Bailey is such a goddamn angel on earth. So gentle, kind, and beautiful. Every fiber in my being wants to go all alpha and do anything in my power to make her feel safe. Forever.

  She eats her waffles quickly — and my heart breaks, knowing she hasn’t been cared for properly. If she was mine — when she is mine — I’ll never let this happen again.

  “Want another order?” I ask as she finishes her last bite. Realizing she won’t ask for more, I go to the register and take care of it for her.

  When the second helping comes, I ask her how I can help.

  “I know we just reunited, but God, Bailey, I want to make sure you’re okay. Taking a bus across town, staying at a motel — I just… Do you want to stay with me?”

  She licks her lips. They are pink and perfect and God, I want to kiss them. “That’s really sweet of you, but I could never. My mom… she
… well, I need to be there for her. She’s not really good at taking care of herself.” Her eyes are downcast, and still, I see them fill with tears.

  I decide it is now or never. I move to her side of the table, slipping into the booth next to her. I rest my arm over her shoulder and let her lean against me. She exhales, her head rests on my chest and God, I want to be her man. The one to take care of her.

  “You’re carrying so much Bailey. I want to help you, but I know you need to do what you think is best.”

  “Thanks,” she says shakily. “I’m really all my mom has. And so even though I know it’s not a great situation, until I graduate, I want to be here for her.”

  “And after graduation?” I ask, knowing it’s only a few weeks away.

  “After, I will put my foot down. I’ll make a plan. Somehow.”

  “You don’t know what you’ll do?” My dad has been helping me plan my future for years. The idea of not having a parent looking out for you, to navigate the world on your own seems like such a hard hurdle.

  Bailey picks up her coffee cup, and I reach for mine, but I stay next to her. “It sounds impossible, but I’ve thought about going to culinary school.”

  I smile. “To learn to make waffles?”

  She smiles, looking up at me. “Maybe. But I don’t know. I don’t really want a career. Does that sound bad?”

  I shake my head. “No, everyone wants something different. I got a full ride to college for wrestling, and I’m going to get a teaching certificate.”

  “What do you wanna teach?” she asks.

  “Maybe history? But I’d really like to be a coach. To help guys learn their strength, and what to do with it.”

  “I love that,” she says. “I can see it, too.”

  “So, if you didn’t go to college, what would you want?” I ask her.

  “My dreams are simple. I want to be happy, healthy. And I want a family one day. I want to be a mom, but… a mom who really gives her kids everything.”