11. Reath
11
REATH
“ T hat smells good,” Frankie said.
I carried the takeout bags into the kitchen. “It’s from Cochon. New Orleans is all about the Creole food, but this is the best Cajun food in town.”
She wandered closer. “I don’t really know the difference.”
“Creole is called city food. It has a more French, affluent influence. Cajun is country food. It tends to be more rustic, and spicier.”
“Well, I can serve it up. I’m the takeout queen.”
I smiled. “You don’t cook?”
She wrinkled her nose, and it was cute as hell. “I’m planning to learn while I’m here. I’m smart. Surely I can learn to cook a decent meal.”
“I’m not much of a cook, either. Lola usually feeds me.”
Frankie’s head jerked up. “Lola? Who’s Lola?”
“Our housekeeper. She cleans, cooks, keeps us in line. She’s also the nanny for Colt’s daughter, Daisy.”
“Oh.” Frankie smiled. “I guess if you have a Lola, it makes it easy not to cook.”
“Especially when she’s so good at it.” I pulled out some plates.
“You sit down,” Frankie said. “I’ll serve up.”
I sat at the head of the table and watched as Frankie opened drawers. She served up the crawfish pie, shrimp stew, and the chicken and andouille gumbo. She also managed to find a candle and set it in the center of the table.
I raised my brows. “I own a candle?”
“You do. Lola, again?”
“Probably. Or more likely Colt’s woman, Macy. She loves candles.”
Frankie returned to the kitchen and came back with loaded plates.
We sat and ate, and Frankie talked about all the things she liked about New Orleans.
It felt easy. I didn’t bring women home, and I hadn’t shared a meal with anyone at this table, except my family.
Frankie leaned her elbows on the table. “Thanks again, Reath. I was really afraid today.”
“I’m glad you’re safe. You should’ve told me about your project.”
“I had no idea this would happen.” She paused. “What was it like being a spy?”
I swallowed a mouthful of spicy food. “Classified.”
She grinned.
But a part of me wanted to share. Damn . I had to fight the pull of her.
“Want some music on?” I asked.
She nodded. “Sure.
“Speaker, play London Grammar,” I said.
A second later, the haunting strains of the English indie band filled the room.
Frankie clapped her hands together. “Oh, I love London Grammar.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, swaying in her seat to the music.
I made myself look down at my food. I couldn’t keep my gaze on her. One hand curled into a fist under the table. If I kept watching her, I’d want to touch her.
Why her? Why my best friend’s little sister?
Thankfully, Frankie filled the silence, chatting about Jack and her work, so I didn’t have to say much. She savored the Cajun food, and I couldn’t help but watch every time she licked her fork and moaned.
“You enjoy running your own security firm?” she asked.
“Yeah. Nothing better than being your own boss. I’m selective about the clients I take on.” PSS was highly sought after, and we never lacked for work.
“I feel a bit the same working on my own project, in my own lab.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Being a part of a team can be fun, but frustrating too with all the different personalities.”
I set my knife and fork down. “How did your call with DARPA go?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Well, they weren’t thrilled about the break in.”
“It was a little more than a break in.”
“My contact, Dr. Croft, is really nice. He said they’ll run a security assessment. Usually, civilian projects like mine don’t get targeted like this, especially not so early in the process.”
My gaze narrowed. I wondered if some foreign country had their own version of Frankie’s ADAPT project but had hit a wall in their research. Maybe they were looking for a shortcut. “I spoke with campus security. They reported the incident to the New Orleans PD. We’ll find who was responsible.”
“I hope so.” Her tone turned fierce. “I won’t let anything get in the way of my work.”
We finished eating, and that’s when I noticed Frankie’s eyelids drooping. She’d had a hell of a day.
“Come on.” I rose from my chair. “You’re tired. I’ll show you to your room.”
I led her down the stairs and into a hallway. I paused at the guest room door.
“My bedroom’s at the end of the hall.” I pointed.
She studied the door. “Okay.”
I pushed open the guest room door and watched her walk in, taking in the queen-sized bed.
“Bathroom’s through that door. There’s a shower and a tub.”
She peered into the bathroom.
“Take a look around,” I told her. “I’ll be right back.”
I quickly made my way to my bedroom. In my walk-in closet, I opened a drawer and pulled out a clean T-shirt.
When I returned to the guestroom, I handed it to her. “Something for you to sleep in. Tomorrow, we can get some of your things.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, fingering the soft cotton.
I wouldn’t admit, even to myself, that a part of me really liked the idea of Frankie sleeping in my T-shirt.
Shit . I needed to get a grip on this desire. I’d never had a problem doing that before. I’d fucked some stunning women.
But it was Frankie Parker who was getting under my skin.
“I’ll leave you now. See you in the morning.”
She gave me a small smile. “Sleep well, Reath.”