Chapter Two
“Mom, I promise, I’m okay. You don’t need to come up here to watch Bella.
I’ve got daycare situated, and I even get a student discount.
” Frankie swallowed the small lie. Daycare was situated—for the month of September.
It had taken half of her savings to pay for it, even with a discount.
She’d have to hope her on-campus job would cover food, gas, and childcare each month.
“What about a job? That stipend didn’t stretch to full room and board, did it?”
Her mother’s anxious voice was silent.
Frankie looked overhead for signs of a lighting strike or wads of cash falling from the ceiling.
Nope. One miracle a day was enough.
“Mom?”
“Oh. Frances, I knew you’d turn it around and make a fresh start. I’m so proud of you, honey.”
Frankie smiled, revealing a deep dimple in her right cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I have to go. I need to run to the store. I’m going to use the slow cooker you gave me on Tuesday. We’ll have dinner ready when we get home from school.”
Her mother laughed with delight. “So proud of you. Love you, darling.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
Frankie hung up and wriggled her bare toes on the soft beige carpeting.
She had to admit that it was nice, feeling like a “real” adult.
She’d enjoyed meeting Harper and Alban Wymark and their twins.
Conversation had flowed easily as they each pushed a swing at the park, listening to their children’s excited shrieks.
They talked about parent stuff, like the curriculum at Bright Stars and the qualifications of Harper’s sister, Izzy.
Izzy was just the kind of teacher she’d want for Bella.
She was smart, had an education degree, and was going to marry the town’s policeman in late October.
Now, she was going to run to the supermarket with Bella before bath and bedtime and prep a healthy, responsible dinner that would translate into several meals.
The Wymarks even invited her to the Labor Day cookout at White Pines on Monday afternoon (tomorrow).
Well, it wasn’t like a personal invitation.
They were just informing her about a town event.
“But we can do those things now, Bella-Boo,” Frankie muttered to herself as she rubbed the tattoos on her neck and shoulder, fingers slipping under the strap of her olive-green tank top.
“We’ll go to community things. Have play dates.
Spend the weekends together making cookies and going to the park.
No more tired, grumpy Mama with frostbitten fingers and blisters on her feet. .. I hope.”
“Baby girl, put your shoes on, and let’s go to the store. I’ll need your help to pick out snacks for your lunchbox.”
Bella scrambled up from in front of the television, her sandy brown hair escaping her little pigtails.
Frankie laughed. Bella was 100% her baby.
There was no trace of Burke in her appearance.
Frankie’s own wild brunette locks were always trying to escape whatever pins and twists she tried to force them into.
“Like mother, like daughter. Come here, sweetpea. Let Mama fix your hair.”
She scooped Bella up in her arms and carried her to the bathroom.
Frankie paused in front of the mirror. Pretty face.
Slender figure, but healthily slender, no longer the borderline skeletal figure Burke demanded from his swimmers.
The tattoos were the only visible evidence that she’d once been a wild hellion, rebelling against college rules by sleeping with her coach, rebelling against her mother by spending her book money on tats, pills, and a fake ID.
“Mama? Are you sad?”
“No! No. I’m not sad. I was thinking about the grocery list, that’s all.” She crossed her fingers as she quickly collected Bella’s hair back into two little tails above her ears.
I’m glad I’m going to live the kind of life that will be healthier and safer for both of us.
But I don’t want to become a completely boring suburban mom with no personality—and no sex life. And I don’t want to marry a completely boring suburban guy, just because he has a minivan and a fat salary.
Is there a happy medium, or does that only exist in fairytales?
“HEY, LET ME HELP YOU.”
Frankie startled, whirling with Bella on her shoulder and two reusable grocery bags over her arm.
Late-night shopping might be a necessity while getting established in Pine Ridge, but it was lousy, logistically.
Bella fell asleep on the car ride home, and the town seemed strange after dark.
Hundreds of miles from home and help made Frankie’s stomach twist.
And now there was a man next to her car in the dark parking lot next to her apartment building. Why hadn’t she parked under the single lamppost that shed meager light on the faded white lines that made up the spaces?
“I’m fine.” Her voice was shrill as she fumbled her keys into a point between her fingers.
The man looked right at her hand, a brazen smile spreading slowly across his face. “It’d take a lot more than that to stop someone like me—which is why I offered to help. Pine Ridge is a nice place. We try to keep it that way, especially close to campus. There are lots of easy targets.”
Frankie’s chest tightened and her breathing sped up.
Was he threatening her? Calling her an easy target?
Why wasn’t she running? “I’m fine, and I’m a professional swimmer.
I’ve got muscles that would make any mugger sorry.
” She put one foot backward, ready to slide back into the car and run this scumbag over. He wasn’t going to lay a hand on Bella.
“I’m not a mugger. I’m your neighbor, and you’ve got a sleeping kid and groceries. So, I repeat, can I help?”
“No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” The man strolled off ahead of her, and sure enough, he went into the lobby, a key dangling from his hand. From the back, Frankie studied his appearance and made mental notes.
On the shorter side and stocky. His face was a brutish square, the kind with thick lips and hooded eyes. Swarthy, they called it.
Or maybe sexy. Dark hair, and devilish eyebrows that arched in a knowing way. A leather jacket and—was that his car? It was a vintage crimson Thunderbird.
Wouldn’t I love to be spread out over the backseat of that, Frankie thought without warning.
Get. Your. Ass. Inside.
And bring your brain with you, before you think incredibly dumb thoughts about how his easy, smartass voice was very... pleasant.
Frankie beeped the car remote in her palm, locking the door of her dented compact. Bella shifted on her shoulder and snuggled her warm pudgy cheek into her neck. “It’s okay, baby.” Frankie breathed through her nose, trying to bring herself down.
She walked into the apartment lobby, eyes scanning every corner. No sign of the creep from the parking lot.
He probably wasn’t a creep. Was he? He offered to help. He might have been awkward but sincere. A campus full of teenagers and young adults was an easy target. She did have her hands full.
If I ever see him again—in daylight—I’m going to tell him that he has to learn how to talk to women, especially a lone woman with a child. What kind of idiot is he? Doesn’t he know how many monsters there are on the streets?
Frankie huffed her way up the stairs, Bella seeming to gain a few pounds on each step. “Man, I’m out of shape.”
“I thought you had swimmer’s muscles that would make any mugger sorry.”
Frankie smothered a scream. Creep was standing at the top of the stairs, holding the door for her. “You—I—”
“Rotten terms for a conversation. I’m Eddie and you’re new here. I live in 2-D. You live in 2-A.”
“Stalker much?”
“The only vacant apartment in the building is suddenly not vacant. Call me a psychic, but...” Eddie bowed and smirked, letting her pass.
“Just so you know, you should never, ever sneak up on a woman in a parking lot at night. She could pepper spray the hell out of you,” she hissed, voice lowest on the curse word.
Eddie’s face twitched, thick lips curling in a half-smirk. “You’re right in most cases.”
“No, in all cases.”
“Not in the case when a man is—actually just trying to be a gentleman but screwing it up pretty badly.” Eddie’s face twitched again, and he turned abruptly.
“Just so you know, there’s a Night Watch in the town.
A few dozen citizens, mostly guys. If anyone ever hassles you, scream.
You’ll have more help than you can handle in five seconds flat. Night.”
Frankie stared at the door at the end of the hall, watching it swallow up the stocky figure.
Again, she didn’t know whether to be creeped out or comforted.
He puzzled her, and she didn’t like that.
No, she liked that too much. Puzzles were fun. Puzzles kept her from stagnating and turning into a boring woman talking about how to remove stubborn stains and cutting coupons.
And in the light of their shared hallway, she could see him much more clearly. Yes, he still had something that made her think of primitive, brutish men, the kind with clubs and animal skins. Something animalistic.
Like the wolfish glint in his eye when he disappeared into his apartment.
The fact that he seemed to have way too many teeth when he flashed a smile.
Wolves, sharks, and bad boys, oh my...