28 - Frankie
28
Frankie
—
Leo and Kody sit with me at a corner table in a cozy restaurant with a clear view of the bustling dining area.
Kody’s fingers curl around mine on the table, his scarred hand rough but gentle like his eyes. Leo’s palm rests on my thigh, his thumb stroking, always restless. His rugged features soften as he looks at me, and Kody’s brooding intensity gives way to a tenderness that swells my chest.
We’re a tangle of broken souls, stitched together by shared pain and longing. Longing for one another. Longing for a future full of affection.
We already know what hell looks like. No more punishments are necessary.
Give us more of this—soft evenings, good food, and stolen kisses, sweet as dark cherries.
Leo and Kody are happy here. In Sitka. In this new life. Happier than I’ve ever seen them.
Despite the unsolved threat that’s been haunting us for two months.
Our security guards—Carl and Jasper—stand outside, watching us through the front windows while scrutinizing the locals and tourists inside and on the street. While I appreciate their constant vigilance, they make me anxious. We have no real privacy, no peace from the fear that seems to follow us everywhere.
Soft amber lighting casts a glow over the wooden tables, the atmosphere heavy with the mouthwatering aroma of grilled seafood and hearty stews. Vintage photographs of Sitka’s history, fishing boats, and native Alaskan art adorn the walls, giving the place a timeless charm.
Monty and I used to eat here often. Part of me wishes he was here now.
Over the past two months, the tension between him and the guys has relented. The three of them get along remarkably well when I’m not around. They actually seem to enjoy one another’s company.
Sometimes, I wonder if my presence holds them back from a deeper bond.
Monty will never have the connection Leo and Kody share, but he’s trying. When they’re in the gym or discussing business, he interacts with them like an older brother.
But when I’m there, he’s the husband.
Except he’s not the husband I knew before my abduction.
I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. It’s so many things. He’s more humble and less guarded. More self-reliant and less pampered. He’s still a controlling, overbearing, hot-tempered alphahole, but he no longer storms off during an argument. He concedes and compromises. He drives his own vehicles, spends less time in his office, and sees a therapist. A therapist he hates, but he’s doing it. He’s getting help.
Bottom line, the man he is today wouldn’t crush a pregnancy stick beneath his shoe. He’s matured since that morning.
In a good way.
In a great way.
In a terrifyingly attractive, sexy, he’s-no-longer-mine, and dammit-I-can’t-think-about-him-like-that way.
A server places our dishes before us. She gives me a friendly smile and turns to Leo and Kody, tucking that smile between nibbling teeth while batting sultry eyes.
I can’t even be mad about it. They have that effect on every woman they encounter. Just like Monty.
We ordered a feast to share. Freshly caught salmon, seared to perfection and drizzled with a tangy lemon-butter sauce. A bowl of Alaskan king crab bisque, its rich fragrance bursting with a promise of flavor. And a platter of roasted vegetables, their vibrant colors bubbling through the butter.
Kody pours us each a glass of imported blueberry vodka and raises his drink, his obsidian eyes meeting ours.
“To Frankie’s garden that will never grow.” He smiles an actual smile that crooks up both sides of his mouth. “Now we can laugh about it over a real meal far away from Hoss.”
“Whatever, you ass.” I laugh.
“And to the pemmican that saved us.” Leo’s eyes glint. “May we never eat it again.”
“Here, here,” we say in unison, clinking our glasses together.
The vodka tastes smooth, with a hint of sweetness and a harsh afterburn. It doesn’t come close to Kody’s recipes.
We’ve been sampling all the vodka around town, checking out the competition.
There is no competition.
When his distillery opens, it will blow minds and taste buds. Vodka connoisseurs and critics will come from all over the world to sample his product. Locals and tourists will show up in droves to be part of the scene. His vision for the ambiance is classy and sophisticated and wildly surprising for my snow cabin boy.
I should’ve known better.
We’ve come a long way from counting beans and rationing pemmican. After two months of good nutrition and exercise, I feel more like myself, stronger, curvier. Curvy for me, anyway.
But Leo and Kody? Yeah. They’ve filled out, their bodies more sculpted and powerful than ever.
Leo’s once lanky frame is now stacked with lean muscle, his shoulders broad and strong. He keeps his beard trimmed and shoulder-length hair neatly braided into a knot, looking like a cleaned-up Norse warrior with pectorals sculpted from marble.
Every woman in the restaurant is hot under the table and squirming in her seat as every gaze openly stares at the hot Viking. Hard to look away from his chiseled jawline and those battle-honed blue and gold eyes. And his body. His shirt molds so tightly to his well-defined chest that it shows off every carved ridge.
Kody, too, has transformed. His already impressive physique has become even more imposing, each muscle perfectly defined under his tanned skin. His dark hair, short and tousled, accentuates his brooding, intense gaze. The scars crisscrossing his arms and back add to the aura of danger and allure that draws every eye in the room. But it’s his unwavering focus on me that sets my heart racing.
I don’t care how many women ogle them. I’m the only one who gets to see them in the gym, brawling and pumping iron, shirtless and sweaty.
I’m the only one who gets to feel them when they’re fucking, thrusting and grunting, deliciously naked and rock-hard.
My guys never disappoint.
Watching them navigate their new world is both bittersweet and rewarding. They’ve adapted quickly in such a short amount of time. They’ve always been hardworking. In Hoss, it was physical labor, relying on their powerful physiques to hunt, gather, and survive.
But here, they’re working smarter, utilizing their sharp minds to master technology, learn the rules of society, and become self-sufficient. They’re not just following their dreams. They’re laying the foundation for our future.
That also means they spend a lot of time on their phones.
“Leo.” I glare at the device in his hand. “Eat.”
“Monty’s working out.” He continues to stare at the screen. “Second time today.”
“I wish you wouldn’t monitor him.” I sip my vodka. “That’s not the point of the cameras.”
Installing cameras throughout Monty’s estate was Leo’s idea. The night I received those threatening messages, he suggested we set a trap for Monty.
At the time, I was willing to do anything to prove or disprove Monty’s guilt. So I withdrew money from my savings, invested in high-end surveillance equipment, and helped Leo discreetly hide cameras in every room Monty uses, including his bedroom and bathroom.
If and when I receive another threat, the recording devices will catch Monty in the act. But only if he’s home.
For two months, we’ve spent every day in town, away from Monty, all the while expecting something, anything to set off the trap.
Monitoring him without his knowledge doesn’t sit right with me. I can access the video footage on my phone, but I don’t. It’s a violation of privacy, and I want to remove it.
“It’s driving me crazy.” Leo pockets his phone. “It’s been two months and nothing. No threats. No strange behavior. Just…nothing.”
“It’s like he’s too careful.” Kody takes a bite of salmon, chewing thoughtfully. “Or worse, he’s playing us.”
“Well, I, for one, am glad I haven’t been terrorized.” I swallow a spoonful of soup.
“That’s not what we’re saying, love.” Leo frowns. “I’m relieved no one has fucked with you again. But we can’t let our guard down. Not until we’re sure.”
Kody nods. “We’re doing everything we can to protect you. Even if it means watching Monty’s every move.”
They’re not the only ones protecting me. Monty keeps guards on us at all times.
He also hired a self-defense instructor who came to the island to teach me the basics. The woman had a lot of energy and whipped me into shape. After finishing the eight-week course, I feel more confident in fending off an attacker.
“I had my first solo landing today.” Leo’s grin lights up his gorgeous face. “It was incredible. Being up there, completely in control, and actually knowing what I’m doing…it’s like nothing else.”
“I’m so happy for you.” My insides flutter with excitement. “I knew you’d do great.”
“That completes your recreational pilot certificate, right?” Kody asks.
“I still need to pass the exam, but yeah, I’m close.”
“Then on to the next certificate.” I squeeze his hard thigh.
“Yep. Bigger aircraft, farther distance, night flying, all the fun stuff.” He tilts his head, looking at Kody. “How’s the distillery coming along?”
“The renovations are almost done. We’re on track to start production in a few months. I’ve been experimenting with some new flavors.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“A North Star Cherry vodka with a hint of Alaskan wildflowers.” Kody winks at me. “And there’s a lemon one with spruce tips. It’s different, but I think it’ll be a hit.”
“I can’t wait to try them.” My heart soars for both of them.
They’ve come so far, each pursuing their dreams despite the shadows that haunt us.
We talk and laugh, the alcohol loosening our tongues long after we finish eating and pay the check. Kody tells more stories about the distillery renovations, his passion shining through. Leo teases him, his smile contagious.
I lean into Kody, tracing the scar on his palm. He closes his fingers, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips. “I love you, woman.”
“We both do.” Leo reaches across the table, his hand covering ours.
I close my eyes, savoring the warmth and intimacy of our bond.
As dusk darkens the window and rain spits against the glass, I excuse myself to use the restroom.
“I’ll be right there.” Standing, I point at the door five tables away and smooth down my dress. “You can watch me from here.”
They nod, their eyes following me as I walk away. I can feel their protective gazes even with my back turned, reminding me how deeply they care.
It’s a private restroom with a single toilet. I lock the door and do my business. Then I take a moment to gather myself, splashing cool water on my face and looking at my reflection in the mirror.
My mind drifts to the future, the dreams we share, and the life we’re building. Monty’s a vital part of that.
He can’t be behind those messages.
I’m starting to believe there’s no threat at all. Someone was just fucking with me, and they’ve moved on.
We need to remove the cameras before they cause actual harm to our family.
As I leave the restroom, a man steps into my path. His smile is crooked, his demeanor non-threatening, but his sudden approach raises my hackles.
“Hey.” Eyes unfocused, he slurs in my face, “God, you’re beautiful.”
Wobbling, he reaches for the high-top table beside me. I don’t know if he needs it for balance or if he’s deliberately stumbling against me, but in a blink, his ribs knock into mine, and his hot breath coats my neck.
Oh, God, no. The dumbfuck has no idea he just started World War III.
Pushing him off me, I angle my head toward our table to stop what’s coming.
But it’s already empty.