Chapter Eleven
TURNER
Frankie looked at me like she was finally understanding.
I mean, I had pretty much spelled it out for her.
I hadn’t lied when I told her earlier that I was feeling cagey. I was. This whole situation had me on edge. And her confession back inside the room hadn’t helped put me at ease.
For months, that man had been taking advantage of her solitude.
He’d exploited her vulnerability, to the point that she felt responsible for bringing him here.
It was a wonder that I hadn’t put my arm through something.
Even if I broke a few bones and had to close up the bakery.
Physical aggression had never been my thing.
Ric begged me to join his hockey team for years—years—and I always said no.
I never felt like using my size against someone was something I should do, even for sports, and I preferred more introspective ways to pass time. Until today.
Today I felt like breaking every bone in that man’s body. Just for sport.
Frankie had made mistakes, like everyone. She isolated herself, instead of coming to me, or one of her brothers, for help. Support. Company. She had already been doing that by the time she left for Boston, though. And there hadn’t been a stalker then.
But I was at fault for that loneliness, too.
Frankie telling me she felt like there was no one on her corner, like the world had turned its back on her, made me feel desperately powerless.
I knew that day she announced the move that there was something wrong with her. I also found out that there was something wrong with me. It was hard to explain, even today. Perhaps, especially today.
The timing I’d chosen was horrible, but the urge to make the wrongs right had doubled after hearing she ever believed she came second to me.
“Do you remember Archer?” I asked her.
Frankie was out of sorts still. Lips bobbing like a fish. It was cute. I wanted to kiss her, but if I did, right now in this hot tub—as she sat there with her hair a little wet and droplets of water clinging to her skin—I’d forget my purpose.
“He took you to prom,” I continued. “He wanted to ask you out. On dates. Afterwards. You mentioned in passing that you wondered why he never did. You asked what was wrong with you.”
Her hand rose above the water and she patted her cheek. “I remember, yeah. Kind of. I don’t think I was very upset about Archer, though. Why … Why did you bring this up?”
“Because I know why. I told him not to.” I brought an arm over the edge. Leaned back, getting comfortable. I had so much I’d been bottling up, and it felt great to finally let it out. “I told him he’d have to deal with me, Ric and Leo if he so much as breathed your way.”
Frankie straightened. “What? Why?”
“Because the little shit bragged to his friends about going third base with you.”
“It wasn’t a lie, though,” Frankie admitted with a little huff. “We kissed. And I let him grab my ass, maybe. So what if he was a tool?”
“You deserved better than a horny teenager.”
“All teenagers are horny. Why did it matter that he was?”
“It mattered because it should have been me taking you to prom.”
Frankie’s lips parted again.
“I wanted it to be me, Frankie.”
She shivered. Even in the hot tub, her whole body gave one big shake.
I reached for her hands and pulled her closer.
To hell with my plan. I needed to touch her.
Make whatever these shakes meant go away.
One of my arms snaked around her waist, and I maneuvered her so she was sitting on my legs.
I was already hard, but having her skin on mine like this had my dick standing to full fucking attention.
“My bakery,” I told her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “The Midnight Baker is named that way because of you.”
“What?” She sputtered. “But that … That’s something we all called you.”
“You came up with it. You called me that one morning, after I’d pulled an all-nighter baking shit because I couldn’t sleep.
You said it, right there at your door.” My arm tightened around her.
“You snatched the bagel off the container, took a bite while you studied my face, and then you moaned. For a few weeks, it was our thing. I’d bring you stuff I baked at night, and you’d call me midnight baker.
Then, it stuck with Ric and Leo and everyone else.
But it was our thing. I was your midnight baker, and you’d look at me like I was the best thing to cross the threshold of your door just because I carried freshly baked things.
” I brought my palm to her chest, right above her breasts. “Our. Thing.”
“Turner …” She trailed off in a whisper. “What are you doing?”
“That day I showed up in Boston,” I kept going, “Ric didn’t send me. He mentioned you being sad and crying to him on the phone, and next thing I knew, I was knocking on your door.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed, as if she was trying to fight the memory. “I should have let you in. God, I’ve felt horrible for months.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I admitted. “I don’t think I understood how important that day was. How telling it was what I did. It was only after getting back to Portland and talking to Mia that I started to realize the extent of my feelings for you.”
Her beautiful eyes turned watery with emotion.
I kissed her shoulder. “We almost broke up that morning, when I drove back without seeing you. Mia sat me down and told me no relationship is perfect. She said that first love is a unique kind of love, but it doesn’t always last. I chose to move forward and fight for our relationship, because she deserved that.
I owed myself and my decisions that much, too.
I figured myself out pretty quickly after that, though”
My words faded, and we listened to the bubbling water for a little while. Mia had always been so kind, so graceful. I didn’t regret her. I never had. If anything, I regretted hurting her. She’d taught me so much about myself. Brought me back to Frankie, in a way.
“Does she hate me?” Frankie finally asked.
“She misses you,” I said sincerely.
“First love,” she murmured after a beat. “I don’t understand. You can’t mean that. It’s not possible.”
“I let myself fall in love with Mia because I couldn’t have you, Frankie.”
Her eyelids shut tightly, lips following suit.
“I overheard you telling her one day,” I explained, hearing my own grief in my voice.
“She asked if you liked me, if there was anything going on between us. You were in your kitchen making popcorn, and I was just coming out of the restroom. I stopped cold in my tracks. Waited for your answer. You said I wasn’t the guy for you.
That we’d never be more than friends. That she could go for it. For me.”
When Frankie’s eyes opened, the sight of her face shattered a vital part of me.
“Because she liked you, Turner,” she said, breathless.
“She kept saying how much she liked you, and how it was love at first sight. I heard a noise in the hallway and thought it was Ric coming back with more beer for movie night. I never thought you—”
I kissed the corner of her lips. “I’m not blaming you. I’m blaming myself. For taking words I overheard at face value. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I should have known better than that.”
A tear escaped her eye, mixing with the water condensing on her cheek. “Those words weren’t meant for you,” Frankie pressed. She shifted her body, met my gaze desperately. “If you’d asked me, I wouldn’t have given you up. I would have said I wanted you. That you were mine first.”
My chest rumbled. “Say that again.”
Her throat bobbed with a hard swallow. That sadness clinging to her expression evaporating, replaced by need. Determination. “You were mine first.”
“And you’ll never be horrible or invisible or of no importance to me.” I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead against hers. “You are the opposite of those things. I loved you first, and I love you now. It’s always been you. Do you understand?”
The softest breath left her lips, hitting me in the mouth.
I hummed deep in my throat. And then, I kissed her. I took what was mine. Finally. What I’d longed for, dreamed of, hoped for, with every ounce of my being for a long time.
A soft whimper left her. And it shouldn’t have elicited the reaction it did in me. It was disproportionate to the fragility of the moment. But it caused an avalanche.
Before I knew what I was doing, my body was moving forward, my hand was curling around the side of her neck, tilting her head back with my thumb, demanding her lips to let me in.
Let all of me in.
Our tongues brushed, then tangled, need surging forcefully.
I was very much aware that she was almost naked, and there wasn’t an item of clothing on me.
I’d been holding myself back from taking advantage, to leave space for words that had to be said.
We could have talked for hours, but maybe Frankie was right.
This was our new kind of normal. I could heal us by unravelling for her.
Showing her how deeply she affected me. How she’d always come first to me.
Her breasts brushed against my chest and brought me back into focus. Christ, I was losing control of both my body and my mind. “I need to calm down,” I rasped out. In her mouth. I wasn’t able to move away from her.
Her breathing was swaying just as much. “I disagree. Keep going.”
“My plan wasn’t fucking you in this hot tub.”
Her eyes went a little hazy and she nipped at the side of my neck. “It sounds like a great plan. I totally encourage it.”
I groaned. “Say that you’ll let me in. That you understand.”
Frankie smiled, and she brushed some of my hair off my forehead with her fingers. I wanted her hands on me. Everywhere. Pet me like a dog. I’d even bark, if she goddamn asked me to. “I do. I will.”
I flipped her around, bringing her back to my front before taking a seat.