Chapter 31
Holden
H ow the hell was he supposed to convince Frankie she deserved him?
That was the question that had been plaguing him for days now, ever since he’d kissed her. She loved him, he was pretty damn sure of it, but she was still holding herself back because she didn’t think she was, what? Worthy of him? That she hadn’t earned his love?
“You keep glaring at that whiskey like that, it’s going to catch fire in your hand.”
Braden’s smooth, amused voice pulled Holden out of his dark musings and back to the present, where he was supposed to be enjoying a relaxing day with his friends while the girls went dress shopping.
“Sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”
He didn’t miss the looks that passed between the three of them, looks that clearly said they knew exactly what was on his mind.
“What’s up with Frankie?” Ice asked, and Holden nearly laughed at how easy it was to read his friends. Then again, apparently he wasn’t exactly a closed book, either.
“I wish I knew,” he told them, lifting the tumbler to his lips to take another sip. “I kissed her the other night.”
Another shared look had him rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, it was a mistake. But fuck, I miss her. It’s driving me crazy to have her so close without being able to make her mine.”
“Gee, if only someone had told you that might happen,” Braden muttered.
“Yeah, well, you were right. Happy?”
“Not really. I’d be happier if you weren’t so damn miserable. This whole ultimatum or whatever you’ve given her is obviously not working for either of you.”
“It wasn’t an ultimatum. I’m giving her space to make her own decisions.” Although, she apparently hadn’t understood that, since she’d been giving him space.
“And how’s that working out for you?” Beckett asked.
“Oh, it’s just fucking great.” His dry response earned him a round of chuckles. “Honestly? I don’t know if it’s working at all. Neither of us seem to be on the same page about anything, and when I kissed her the other night she was the one who stopped us from going any further because she said she wanted to be sure she deserved me. I have no fucking clue how this got so twisted.”
Looking up, he found all three of his friends staring at him as though he’d just grown three heads. “What?”
Ice spoke first, his words slow and measured. “What exactly did you say to her when you told her that you wanted to keep things… platonic?”
“I don’t remember, exactly. I know we talked about the concerns Cordelia brought up, about being sure she was with me because she wanted to be and not because she just didn't have anywhere else to go.”
“You’re a fucking moron.” This from Beckett, who looked torn between amusement and horror as he shook his head. “You really can’t see how she got ‘You need to prove yourself to me’ from that?”
Annoyance ran up his spine, making him fight the urge to squirm in his seat. “No, because that’s not what I fucking said.”
“Doesn’t mean that’s not what she heard.” Holding his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender, Ice shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“Have to agree with our friends here,” Braden said. “Sounds like you fumbled the ball on this one, Prescott.”
“Well, what the fuck was I supposed to say, then? I just wanted to know it was her choice, that she was choosing me. I wanted her to know it was her choice.”
“Did you tell her that ?”
Frowning into what was left of his whiskey, he thought back to that first conversation.
Had he told her that he wanted her to be sure it was her choice? He remembered telling her he was concerned she was with him because she didn't have anywhere else to go, and that they needed some space from each other. But had he ever told her that he’d wanted her to know, for herself, that she was choosing him?
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Beckett said with a chuckle that raked down Holden’s nerves.
“So what the hell do I do about it? How do I make her see this was never about her not being good enough?”
“Actually… I may have an idea.” Leaning forward, Ice grinned. “I watched this scene once at another club, back in DC. And I think it’s exactly what you’re looking for.”
“I’m listening.”
Frankie
“Oh my gosh! It’s gorgeous!”
Tears dampened Frankie’s eyes as she watched her best friend in the whole world twirl in a gorgeous white ball gown, covered in tiny pink flowers. “I have to agree with Ivy. You look incredible, Lottie-baby.”
“Yeah?” A flush that matched the flowers on her dress rose to Lottie’s face as she turned to examine herself in the mirror. “It really is beautiful. I’m just not sure it’s the one, you know?”
“I do,” Frankie assured her, lifting her champagne flute in solidarity. “Onto the next one.”
They went through three more, with Lottie growing more and more upset as she rejected each one.
“Maybe we should just elope,” she said with a sigh, twisting around to view the back—or lack thereof—of the dress she was currently trying out. “Forget the wedding, just go to Vegas or something.”
Passing her glass off to Cordelia, Frankie rose from her chair and stepped up onto the small stage where Lottie was giving her wedding fashion show. “Let’s go pick something else.”
“What’s the point?” Lottie whined, but despite her protests, she allowed Frankie to lead her back to the dressing room.
Nudging Lottie through the door, Frankie flashed a smile for the attendants. “Can we have a moment?”
The woman who’d been helping Lottie with her selections inclined her head. “Of course. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
When she disappeared again, Frankie pulled the door shut behind her and turned to her best friend. “Okay. Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Lottie, already in the process of sliding the dress from her shoulders, shrugged. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been chomping at the bit to get this wedding planned and now you’re claiming you want to elope? Did something happen with Braden?”
“No. He’s been amazing. It’s just…” Tears shimmered in Lottie’s pale eyes. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.”
Shit, shit, shit. A crying bride was not on the agenda for today. “What do you mean?”
“My mom. She’s supposed to be here, helping me with all this, telling me I chose the wrong linens or that I can’t wear a strapless dress in the winter. But she’s not and it’s all wrong and I just?—”
Rushing forward, Frankie wrapped her arms around Lottie’s shaking shoulders. “I know, honey. It’s not fair.”
For several long minutes, Lottie clung to her, sobbing into her shoulder as Frankie gently rocked her from side to side. When the tears had mostly passed, she lifted her head, sniffling and wiping at her damp eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for everything you guys are doing.”
“But it’s not the same. I get it. You don’t have to apologize to me or anyone, Lottie. Do we need to put a pin in the dress shopping for today?”
“No. I want to do this. I’m just having a moment.”
A knock on the door interrupted their talk and Frankie eased it open a fraction, surprised to find Cordelia on the other side, holding up her phone.
“I’ve got Braden on the line,” she whispered, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Seemed like Lottie might need her Daddy.”
“I think you might be right. Thanks, Delia.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Taking the phone, Frankie closed the door again and held the device out to Lottie. “There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”
Brows knitting together with confusion, Lottie accepted the phone and held it up to her ear. “Hello?”
And just like that, everything about her changed. Relief flashed over her face, her shoulders instantly relaxed, and though she was still crying she didn’t seem quite so… sad.
“I’m okay. I just had a meltdown on Frankie about missing my mom and I already feel better.” Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks, leaving tracks in her foundation. “Really? You think so?” She paused, listening to whatever Braden had to say before letting out a watery laugh. “Oh yeah. She definitely would have kicked your ass. My dad let you off easy. I know. I love you, too. I’ll see you at the club later. Bye, Daddy.”
Hitting a button to end the call, Lottie dragged in a deep breath. “Okay. I feel better now. Time to pick out a dress.”
Frankie watched as Lottie turned and reached for a lace-covered gown, internally arguing with herself. She didn’t want to make Lottie’s day about herself but she just had so many questions .
“Can I ask you something?”
Lottie grinned at her over her shoulder. “If you help me get into this dress you can ask me whatever you want.”
Stepping forward, Frankie took the dress from the hanger, crouching at her friend’s feet to help her step inside. “Do you ever feel like you need Braden too much?”
Lottie frowned slightly as together they wiggled her into the dress. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it, actually. He likes it when I need him, so it’s never really occurred to me that it might be too much. Is this about you and Holden?”
“Yeah. Like, I’m supposed to be figuring out if I actually want to be with him or not. And right now it just feels like I need him, all the time, and I can’t seem to tell the difference between that and loving him.”
“I don’t think they have to be separate. I’m not sure anyone can really love someone without needing them, at least some of the time.”
Well that was frustratingly unhelpful. “So how do I tell the difference? How do I know if I just need him or if I love him?”
Head tilted to the side, Lottie studied her with a thoughtful frown. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Close your eyes.”
With an annoyed huff, Frankie did as she was told. “This is silly.”
“No, it’s not. It’s important. I want you to imagine it’s however many years from now. You’re up on stage, getting that pretty white coat you’ve been dreaming of forever. You can have one person up there with you to share that moment, that joy with you. Who’s that person?”
She didn’t even have to think about it. The image formed in her mind, clear as day. And it wasn’t her parents or even Lottie she imagined up on that stage.
It was Holden, beaming with pride, standing right beside her.
Her eyes flew open to find Lottie grinning at her. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Now it was her turn to be choking back tears. “It was him. It’s always been him. Even when I was trying to shake him off… it was always him.”
“Now, if you do that same thing, say for your wedding day. Having kids. All those other big moments in your life, who is it there with you?”
Images flashed in her brain, one after another, always with the same giant of a man by her side. “Holden. Every single one, it’s Holden.”
“There you go. You, Francesca Legare, are in love.”
“God.” Letting out a shaky laugh, she pressed a hand to her racing heart. “I thought it would feel… different. Bigger, I guess? Like in the movies where there’s that huge moment of revelation and they go running toward each other in slow motion.”
“Babe.” Placing her hands on Frankie’s shoulders, Lottie cocked an eyebrow. “That man’s been running toward you for almost a year. All you have to do is stop running away.”
The truth of it hit her square in the chest. “I don’t know if I know how.”
“We’ll figure it out. Now, help me zip this thing up.”
Laughing, Frankie tugged the zipper of the dress into place and together they turned to Lottie’s reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
And just like that, Frankie knew it was the one.
“Oh my god.” Eyes filling with fresh tears, but happy ones this time, Lottie lifted trembling fingers to her lips. “I look…”
“You look like a bride, Lottie-baby.”
Lace covered Lottie’s arms down to a point on her hands, and continued down over the sheath of the dress itself which hugged her curves before flaring out at the hips to pool around her. It was romantic and classic with just a hint of sexy.
It was so perfectly Lottie.
“I’m getting married, Frankie.” Reaching for Frankie’s hand, Lottie squeezed so hard Frankie nearly winced. “I’m getting married to the best man in the world. And I’m going to wear this dress when I do it.”
“Hell yeah, you are. Come on, let’s go show the others.”