Chapter 23
twenty-three
FRANCIE
When I shuffle into the kitchen the next morning, I feel like I’ve aged forty years overnight. Everything aches. My thighs, my hips, and about a dozen muscles I didn’t even know existed. I blame Asher Fitzgerald and his magic wand of a cock. That thing should come with a warning label.
May cause spontaneous acrobatics and full body exhaustion.
The man himself, the cause of this pain, left an hour ago to meet Hudson at the hotel, freshly showered, shaved, and looking like a walking sex fantasy in his open-collared shirt and navy pants.
At some point during the night, while I was in an orgasm-induced coma after our fourth time, he must have slipped out and gotten his travel bag ready for the morning.
He didn’t say when I’d see him again. But I’m pretty sure it’ll be soon. Or I hope so anyway. This island is tiny, after all.
I look over at the stove where he cooked pancakes that we never managed to eat last night. It’s pristine, just like the rest of the kitchen. He must have cleaned that up, too.
I bet if CSI walked in here right now, there’d be no evidence he was ever here. And it shouldn’t bother me. This was never meant to be anything, but the silence he left behind feels bigger than the room. Like an echo I can’t quiet.
He hasn’t texted or called since he left, either. Not that I expected him to. I know he’s busy, but the quiet hum of my phone on the counter feels louder than it should.
The doorbell rings, bringing me out of my thoughts. I take a steadying breath, forcing the ache in my chest down. It’s probably Skyler, but for one foolish second, I let myself wish it were him.
When I pull the door open, Skyler stands there in full small-town FBI mode, wearing a pretty flowing skirt and a crop top, beneath a beaten up denim jacket.
She’s holding a coffee in one hand and what looks like an herbal tea in the other, plus a bag from Mylene’s coffee shop.
“Chamomile,” she says, nodding at the tea.
“Baby doesn’t like caffeine. Or anything fun, apparently. ”
She follows me into the kitchen. “You look like shit,” she says, pulling no punches as we walk to the kitchen. “Let me see the damage.”
I touch my head. I’d forgotten I’d hurt myself until she mentioned it. “It’s nothing.”
But she insists, pulling my hair back, her eyes narrow as she inspects it closely. “Hmm,” she says. “Just as I thought.”
I blink. “What?” I ask. I can smell the pastries in the bag and my stomach growls at them.
“You smell of sex. Fitzgerald sex.”
I roll my eyes. “If you’re talking about Asher, he was a perfect gentleman,” I tell her. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about this with her. Or anybody. I also know that if Autumn finds out I’ve told somebody else first, it’ll cause problems.
Skyler raises an eyebrow and gives me a long, meaningful look. “Uh huh. So you’re walking like a baby deer on a frozen lake because he held your hand too firmly?”
“I pulled something when I fell,” I mutter, lifting the coffee to my lips while I think of a better excuse. But what excuse is there for the way I’m walking like a girl who rode a horse for hours?
Skyler pulls the pastries out of the bag and hands me one. There’s no judgment in her eyes. Of all the people on the island, she probably understands me the most. Like me, she didn’t grow up here. But she and Hudson fell in love and now Liberty’s her home.
We’re still both technically out-of-towners. And I guess we’ve also now both slept with a Fitzgerald brother.
My heart tightens at that thought. I already miss being in his arms. More than I want to admit. And I don’t want to admit it. Because that would mean this is something. That he might matter.
“Look,” Skyler says softly, “I’m not trying to judge. Asher’s a good guy underneath all that buttoned-up repression. But I promised Autumn I’d take care of you, and I need to know that you’re okay.”
I blink a little too fast. I don’t know how to explain the way he made me feel, like I am something worthy. Like he saw all the parts of me I try to keep hidden and didn’t flinch.
Guilt washes over me at the mention of Autumn’s name. I’m standing in my best friend’s house. The one she so generously said I could stay in while I try to finish my book. And instead of writing, I spent last night in every position imaginable with her brother.
Tearing a corner from the croissant, I pop it into my mouth. The buttery pastry melts on my tongue, but it doesn’t quite chase away the unease curling in my stomach.
Skyler is looking at me like she knows exactly what’s going through my mind. There’s concern there, mixed with understanding. And maybe a little curiosity.
Okay, a lot. This is an island. Nothing exciting ever happens here, unless you count Mylene and Eileen’s eternal blood feud. Skyler loves to gossip. It’s not a sin.
And the truth is, I’m not sure if I can keep this inside me much longer.
“If Autumn finds out she’ll kill me,” I finally say. “Please don’t tell her.”
Skyler puts her own pastry down, her chamomile tea untouched, like I’m much more exciting than buttery layers of goodness. “Oh. My. God. You two did it!” She claps her hands together. “But why wouldn’t you tell Autumn? She’s your best friend, isn’t she?”
“Of course she is. And I will tell her. Depending on what happens between me and Asher. But I want to do it face to face. She knows me too well. She’ll know that it wasn’t just one night.
There’s backstory. I need to find a way to break it to her that doesn’t have her thinking I’ve been lying to her. ”
“I love backstory,” Skyler says. “Gimme.” Then she frowns. “Oh no. Maybe don’t gimme. If I find out any more, I’m going to end up spilling my guts to Hudson. Then everybody’s going to find out. Damn it.” She pouts like I’ve just ruined her favorite game.
“You don’t have to know everything,” I tell her, feeling sorry for her because I hate being left in the dark, too.
It happened too many times in my childhood.
I was too young and innocent to be involved in family business.
It used to drive me wild. “Just know that I’m fine.
Apart from every muscle in my body aching because Asher’s dick is completely addictive. ”
Skyler chokes on her tea. “Jesus, Francie.”
I grin. “Sorry, did I say that out loud?”
Dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, Skyler looks me in the eye. “Don’t say sorry. I just wasn’t prepared for it from you. You have this innocent look about you.” She shakes her head. “Tell me, is he good?”
“Amazing.”
And then, because I’m a glutton for punishment and it feels like we’re bonding, I tell her about the book I’m writing. About my secret life and the way not many people know I’m an author.
“Oh god, I think I’m going to die,” Skyler says when she’s finished grilling me, and has promised me she’ll keep my secret. “This is the best thing to happen to me since I discovered Hudson’s high school yearbook. Let’s just say the man cannot rock a mullet.” She grins.
I laugh at the image that conjures up. “I don’t remember him having a mullet.” Though that was probably before I met Autumn.
“He didn’t. I just scanned the photo and photoshopped him one. Then stuck copies everywhere around the house.” She wrinkles her nose. “I might have wanted to trigger him into teaching me a lesson.”
“And did he?”
“Oh yes.” Her eyes go a little dreamy. “Angry Hudson is the best Hudson.”
Our gazes lock. There’s a knowing look between them. Because I’m pretty hot for furious Asher, too.
“You’re glowing,” she says. “I don’t know how you think you’re going to hide all these secrets from everybody. One look at you and they’re all going to know.”
“Good thing I’ll be staying here at the lighthouse and hiding away,” I say lightly. And possibly hoping that Asher comes back to check on my very real sex injuries this evening.
She frowns. “You can’t do that. You have to come to my dinner party this evening.”
“I’m what?” I ask. “What dinner party? I never agreed to that.”
Letting out a sigh, Skyler gives me a puppy dog look. “Hudson’s having guests over. Boring ones. It’ll be all business talk and repressed New York boredom. You have to come keep me company. It’s your duty.”
“I’m supposed to be writing my book,” I point out. And having sex with Asher. I don’t say that one out loud, but I think she gets the point.
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell Hudson you’re too busy rubbing uglies with his brother to spend time with the loneliest girl on the island.” She’s joking. At least I think she’s joking. But I get the point.
And I do get it. Business dinners are the most boring things in the world.
I’ve been through enough of them while growing up to know that.
Small talk and one-upmanship, mixed with a splash of passive-aggressive bragging and the occasional ‘my kid got into Yale’ humblebrag.
It’s not exactly my idea of a fun night out.
Sensing weakness, Skyler bats her eyelashes at me. “Martin is catering. And he’s making a chocolate volcano dessert.”
I groan at the thought of Martin’s cooking. The hotel chef has worked in Michelin-starred restaurants all over the world. “Fine, I’ll come. But only because you bribed me.”
She beams. “I knew chocolate would tip the scales.” She grabs my hand. “Thank you. I might not die of boredom tonight after all.” She shrugs. “And if you want to put Hudson off your sex scent, you can be all flirty and giggly with his guests.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not flirting with anybody.” That wasn’t in the agreement. And I can’t flirt anyway. I’m more likely to end up looking like a scary stalker.
“Not even a little?” she asks slyly. “Just a flash of thigh and a toss of your hair to keep Hudson distracted?”
“I’m not tossing anything. Especially not my hair. In case you didn’t notice, I can barely walk.”
She sips her tea, entirely unbothered. “Limp seductively. Just enough to sell the ‘I’m totally not having hot secret sex with your brother’ lie.”
I swallow hard. “You’re going to completely spill the beans to Hudson.”
“I’m not,” she promises. “I just need your help to keep my mouth shut. Distract me. Entertain me.”
“I’ll be there,” I tell her. “But no hair tossing, limping, or flirting.”
“Of course not.” She grins. “You’re a star. This is going to be so much fun.”
ASHER
“Are you okay?” Hudson asks. “You seem distracted.”
I’ve been working from his office all day, trying to focus on the upgrade. We’ll run the new system overnight Sunday, their quietest time for the hotel. In between, I’ve been getting constant updates from Brad. Once the system's live, we’ll manage it remotely from New York.
Not that I’m in any rush to get back.
New York feels like another lifetime, even though I left it yesterday. Here on the island, everything is quieter, calmer. Or maybe it’s not the island at all. Maybe it’s her.
Francie.
Not that I’m going to explain that to Hudson.
I shrug. “I didn’t sleep well.”
He gives me a dry look. “Yeah, I kind of figured. Playing nurse to your kid sister’s best friend isn’t exactly restful.” He grins. “You’re a good guy.”
My mouth goes dry. I’m not the good guy. I’m the one who can’t keep his hands off the one woman he should stay away from. But I can’t stop.
Hudson checks his watch. “I gotta go. Skyler’s already pissed I’m late for dinner. Everyone else is there. She’s threatening to feed my dinner to the dog.” He wrinkles his nose. “On the plus side, at least you’re off the hook tonight. Francie’s at ours for dinner with the others.”
“The others?” My voice tightens.
She’s not waiting at the lighthouse, not curled up on the couch where I left her, not texting me, because I didn’t text her.
I buried myself in work all day like it would keep me from thinking about her, and now I’m checking my phone like she owes me something.
Like I didn’t vanish the second I walked out the door this morning.
“You’re having a dinner party?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I told you earlier. I asked if you were coming and you said no. Why doesn’t anybody in my life ever listen to me?”
“You didn’t say Francie was going to be there.” I try to keep my tone light, but the words come out sharper than I intend.
Hudson grabs his jacket, oblivious. “Yeah, Skyler insisted. Said she was worried about her. She wants to make sure she’s okay.”
He pauses. “And then she said something about one of my associates being the perfect guy for Francie. You remember Ben? She’s trying to matchmake them or something.”
Ben.
Of course I remember him. Works in Hudson’s New York office. Ambitious, polished.
Fake as hell.
And maybe Francie would like that. Safe, predictable. Not someone like me who can’t even send her a damn text because I’m too twisted up in my own head.
“Actually, I’m feeling pretty hungry,” I say suddenly. “Maybe I’ll join you after all.”
Hudson pauses, eyeing me. “You sure? A minute ago, you said you’d be working through the night.”
“Yeah, well, plans change.” I grab my phone and jacket, already heading for the door.
He gives me a long look, like he’s trying to figure out what he’s missing. Then he shrugs. “Suit yourself. But you have to tell Skyler she needs to place an extra setting at the table.”
“No problem.”
Because Skyler definitely isn’t the problem.
Reminding Francie who she belongs to, that’s the only thing on my mind.