Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Chandler
I’d never not wanted to get out of bed like I did at this moment—never wanted to not let go of a woman like this before.
I stared at the soft slope of Frankie’s shoulder. She was tucked against me—had been all night. I rarely physically slept with women, and the handful of times I had in a very distant past, I’d never woken up still holding them. But Frankie…even my unconscious self didn’t want to let her go.
I wanted the warmth of her beside me. Wanted the way she thawed parts of me I didn’t know could still feel.
I tipped my head closer, taking another deep breath of the cinnamon that radiated from her. The scent would never be the same again. It belonged to her. It was her. It was everything. And when this was over, I’d have to figure out a way to avoid cinnamon for the rest of my life.
My phone buzzed, the pattern of the sound indicating who it was. Tom. And if it was Tom, it was about Mom .
I rolled to the side, carefully sliding my arm out from under Frankie’s neck, and grabbed my cell from the floor, the screen lighting up instantly with the message.
I’m at Edgewood now. She’s asking for you.
“Shit,” I muttered and did my best not to disturb Frankie as I stood.
My pants looked like shit, but at least they were dry. I shoved my legs into them, knowing I only needed to make it to the hotel with them, where I could change.
“One night was all it took to scare you away?” Frankie teased behind me, her voice warm and husky like a wick sputtering back to life.
I stilled and then grinned as I faced her. But my smile weakened at the sight of her. My little flame. Her hair spread over the pillow in waves of honeyed sunlight. The blanket covered just enough of her for me to resent it; the only thing I wanted draped over her was me. And the sultry upturn of her lips…
“I don’t scare that easily.” But maybe I should.
The way I looked at her. The way she was looking at me. What happened last night. This was the exact kind of thing I should be running from.
It had been a long time since I’d engaged in wax play. It required a level of trust that one didn’t often get from one-night stands, even with partners who were into kink. But Frankie…she’d begged for it. Without fear and with implicit trust. For me. Her adversary.
I hadn’t asked for it, and she’d just…given it to me. Her vulnerability. Just like she’d given of herself yesterday with Mom.
“What’s wrong?” Her brow creased as she sat up, and the blanket dropped, catching on the hard tips of her breasts and teasing me with her red-stained skin from the hot wax. Need slammed through me, and I gritted my teeth.
Frankie grabbed the blanket and pulled it higher—seeing the marks, too—before covering them up. A heavy exhale pushed through my lips when her eyes lifted to mine. The flame between us hadn’t burned out. Not even close.
But that wasn’t part of this agreement.
“I have to go,” I said and grabbed my shirt off the floor, giving it a hard shake.
“To see your mom?”
How did she… I stilled. “Yeah.”
“I’m coming with you.” The blankets rustled behind me.
“Frankie—” I broke off when I turned just in time to watch her stand from the bed, rising like Venus from the waves, and the sight put me in a chokehold.
The dip of her waist. The swell of her ass. The full weight of her breasts… god, I could spend a whole night worshipping her breasts. Painting them with wax. Soothing them with my lips and tongue. She was wildly responsive; I’d make her come just from sucking her— fuck. My cock jammed against the front of my pants with more than enough pain to let me get my head on straight.
I spun away, pretending it was her privacy and not my own hunger I was trying to protect her from.
“It’s fine,” I managed curtly, shoving my arms through my shirt. “You don’t have to?—”
“I’m coming. My shop is closed.”
I tensed. Yesterday, I’d brought her along in a fit of madness—let her through a door in my life I kept permanently closed and locked as a matter of principle and self-preservation. And now, I couldn’t find the words to push her out of it.
“Going to be hard for you to go without me.”
“And why’s that?” I lifted one brow .
She bent and pulled something from her bag. “Because I still have these.” She straightened, dangling my car keys from her fingers.
“They told me what she did yesterday,” Tom said and came to stand beside me, nodding in Frankie’s direction where she sat at the edge of Mom’s bed, smiling and showing her photos of the Candle Cabin.
Today, Mom remembered me. She was in bed, groggy and a little more sedated because they’d increased her meds after what happened yesterday, but at least she remembered me. I didn’t know if this was how Alzheimer’s worked or if it was how Mom worked, but the swings from highs to lows seemed more pronounced. What started as small missteps of memory turned into noticeable stumbles and then worrisome trips and then…yesterday. A fall.
“Yeah.” I didn’t realize how unprepared I was for this conversation. A reflection of how unprepared I was for how I felt about her…and what I was going to do about it.
“And it’s her sister who’s trying to buy the inn?” he asked, a glimmer of hope flickering in his tired eyes.
Mom wasn’t the only one who was a little worse for the wear today; Tom looked just about as ragged. The creases on his face. The shadows under his eyes. I didn’t need to ask if he’d slept at all yesterday, it was written all over his rumpled clothes and exhausted voice.
“Her twin sister.” I had no idea why that was relevant to say, but I said it.
“And I take it you’re now favoring their offer?”
My spine straightened. Was I? I should. I couldn’t.
“No.” I forced the denial out because it was our agreement; we weren’t going to mix business with pleasure.
His head snapped to me, his expression more strained than before. “Chandler…”
“It’s not the best deal.” And that was all there was to it. I cleared my throat and took over the conversation before it continued any farther down this path. “The doctor said they’d return her meds to normal tomorrow?”
Tom hesitated and then nodded. “Yes. They wanted one day to let her rest, but they really did a number on her. She was very unsteady on her feet when I got here, that’s why I suggested she relax in bed.” A small smile worked its way onto his face as he added, “I told her we could have a picnic dinner in bed.”
I made a low sound, and everything he said—everything he did—I saw differently after yesterday. “I didn’t realize you got her all of these butterfly photos.” My eyes slid to him, watching the subtle stillness that came over him.
“They’re her favorite,” he said simply, but it felt like there was more. The way he looked at Mom, it felt like there was something I was missing—something I’d been missing this entire time.
Him and Mom.
I didn’t get a chance to turn the tables on him because Frankie came over to join us and said softly, “She’s sleeping.”
Tom gazed at her for a long moment and then said, “You’re welcome to stay or sit downstairs and talk, but I don’t—I can’t leave her.”
When I looked at him this time, it wasn’t his feelings for Mom I saw in his eyes, but my own for Frankie I found reflected in his stare.
“No, that’s all right,” I murmured. “We should get going.”
Yesterday had been a long day for Mom, and I didn’t want to push my luck. I might not know everything that was between them, but I knew she was the calmest when she was with him.
I went to her bedside, her eyelids heavy as she turned to me. “Chandler…”
“I’m going to let you rest, Mom.” I sat on the bed and took her hand in mine.
Her eyes glistened. “You and Frankie…”
Not her, too. “I’ll be back tomorrow to see you,” I said, ignoring her comment. “Tom will be here.”
At the mention of his name, she looked to him and then back to me, giving my fingers a small squeeze. “Don’t do what I did, Chandler. Don’t be too vulnerable.”
I sucked in a breath, hoping she didn’t notice the way I stiffened. Was she warning me away from a relationship? Did she realize what she was saying?
My head turned to Frankie, and my chest tightened.
Did I realize what I was doing?
“Where do you want me to take you?” I asked as we approached the center of Friendship, my thoughts in a tangle of topics.
My mother and Tom. Frankie. Last night. The inn. Tomorrow morning.
“Just keep going straight,” she replied, her gaze toying with the sights out the window, looking but not really seeing them.
When we breached the far end of the town, I was about to ask again where I was taking her, but her next instruction came first.
“Turn right up here.”
I followed her directions from there, making turns onto roads I was fairly certain had no name and a destination few people knew existed. I made one final right, and as soon as we passed through a thicket of trees, I saw how the drive unraveled in front of us, cascading through the large property all the wayto a two-story, porch-wrapped farmhouse at the end.
“Your mom’s house?” I asked like I was already sure of the answer.
“Yeah,” she confirmed, pulling her plump bottom lip between her teeth.
My hand on the wheel tightened. Dinner. It felt like months had passed since Gigi’s invitation yesterday morning; her request was completely forgotten until now.
I parked in line with the three other cars out front but left the engine running. My eyes skated to the front of the house, and even though the shades were drawn and I couldn’t hear a thing, I could feel the energy of her family pulsing inside it. The love they had for each other…for her…my teeth pressed tight. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after last night.
“Ready?” Frankie pulled her bag onto her lap.
She assumed I was coming. Well, at least that was what she wanted me to think. That was Frankie, boldly declaring her will and daring anyone to deny her. But after last night, I couldn’t help but see the vulnerability there. It sounded like an assumption, but only to disguise the fact it was a plea.
“Frankie…”
The front door swung wide, a familiar head of bright orange hair popping through. “Francesca? Is that you out there?”
Frankie gave me a sheepish look. “No choice now,” she said and opened the passenger door. “Hi, Gigi. We’re coming.”
“Are you? Because it looked to me like you were waiting for the red carpet to be rolled out.”
My finger hesitated on the engine button. I could still leave. I could make an excuse and drive away. It wasn’t like they had much cause to like me anyway; I was the person standing between Lou and her inn…and they’d invited me for dinner. I started to pull my hand away. It would be better for everyone if I didn’t stay.
Frankie turned and looked at me, her mouth firming when she realized I was going to leave—that I was going to be the man I’d told her I was. And then, without thinking, my finger punched the engine button and shut off the car, earning me that look of surprise I craved.
Pink cheeks. Parted lips. For one more night, I didn’t want to be that man, I wanted to be hers.
“Hello, Gigi,” I greeted the older woman as I stepped onto the wrap-around porch.
“Chandler!” Wiry but strong arms enveloped me. “So good to see you again.” Gigi pulled back and adjusted her massive glasses. “You look nervous. Why? I promise we don’t bite.” There was no question where certain parts of Frankie’s personality came from. “Well…most of us.” Her eyes flicked to Frankie, who faked a gasp.
“I don’t bite.”
Gigi made a sound of disbelief and then looked at me and winked. “I don’t think Chandler would mind if you did.”
“Gigi!”
I laughed. At this point, what else was there to do? What else did I even want to do?
“Let’s not keep your mother waiting.” She grinned and moseyed inside, Frankie mouthing an apology to me as we followed her.
The house was everything I didn’t realize I was expecting. Warm and inviting, with sage wreaths and exposed wood. The open floor plan allowed me to see straight from the front door to the other end of the house and let the lively conversation reach us immediately. But it was the scent that overwhelmed me—it was the smell of the house that made me feel the way I did, welcomed and at home, not the cozy decor or the warm laughter.
And I’d bet a cool billion it was because of her.
I slowed by the photos on the wall, instantly picking out Frankie and Lou, Gigi, with varying shades of hair color, and then connecting the dots that the other woman must be Frankie’s mom, Ailene, and the two large men, Frankie’s older half-brothers. Some photos even had her cousins. Well, at least the one I’d met, Nox. I just assumed the other guy and younger girl were family as well.
“Chandler…” Frankie paused, waiting for me.
“What’s the scent?” I asked, stopping just in front of her. “One of yours, I’m assuming.”
She caught her smile by her lower lip before it got too big. “Honeysuckle and mint. Mom’s favorite. It’s a limited-edition candle I make just for her.”
I hummed. “Very homey.”
Her mouth parted, and then she collected herself and said, “It’s called Homey Honeysuckle.”
Something buzzed through me, but just as quickly as it appeared, Frankie spun and led the way into the kitchen…and to meet the rest of her family.
In here, it smelled of barbecue and strawberries and oozed with laughter.
“Frankie’s here, everyone. And she brought a…guest, Chandler.” The pause before guest was painfully exaggerated, but aside from that, there was no awkward break in the conversation. No angry stare down or skeptical assessment. Even Lou was the first in the room to greet me, her shy smile unchanging from my first day in town when she’d given me a tour.
“Chandler, welcome. I’m Ailene, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Frankie’s mom wiped her hands, the small crowd of family around the island parting to let her through like she were a queen.
“Pleasure to meet you. Thank you for having me—oomph.” I broke off when she pulled me in for a hug.
“We hug around here,” she informed me with a friendly pat on the back. “Now, let me introduce you to everyone.”
I received warm welcomes from Frankie’s cousin, Harper—the one from the photo in the hall, Frankie’s sister-in-law, Violet, her other cousin who owned the flower delivery service, Max, and her almost sister-in-law, Aurora. The other three men in the room greeted me a little more guardedly.
“Chandler.” Nox extended his hand, and I shook it, but he looked much less thrilled to see me than the day we met at the Candle Cabin.
When he moved to the side, the last two stepped forward. Frankie’s older brothers.
“Kit Kinkade.” The one who inspired Frankie’s candle business.
“Chandler,” I said and gripped his hand, his stare hardening on me with dislike.
They had to know who I was—who I was to them. It would’ve been foolish to presume anything else.
Aurora came to his side and placed her hand on his arm. When he looked at her, she smiled, and instantly, his whole demeanor changed. Like a knight shedding his armor, everything about him softened for her, and something in my chest twinged.
I looked away and came face-to-face with the last of the Kinkades.
“Jamie.” The oldest. Her father figure.
He gripped my hand firmly, his gaze just like Frankie’s when she measured me up. One look was all it took for the two of them to size up not just a man’s character but his soul.
“Pleasure.”
He drew back and folded his arms over his chest. “So, you’re the one who won’t sell the inn to Lou?”
“Jamie Kinkade, there is no business talk at family dinner,” Gigi said curtly, giving the back of his leg a light whack with her cane, that I still had yet to see her use to walk.
Jaime grunted and mumbled an apology.
“Jamie, now that Frankie and Chandler are here, you and Kit should start grilling the chicken.” Ailene handedthem the full platter with a smile and shooed them from the kitchen. “Frankie, you’re with Lou and Harper on table duty.”
Frankie caught my eyes, and then joined her sister and cousin in the dining room. Her other cousins didn’t even need instruction before Max went to the bar and Nox started taking drink orders. And that left me, Gigi, and Ailene.
Frankie’s mom smiled at me. “So, Chandler, I hear you’ve been working at Frankie’s store?”
“I have.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Why don’t you help me slice the vegetables and tell me all about it?”
Dinner passed in a blur of conversation. Between the twelve of us, there wasn’t a moment open for silence before someone filled it, but never with discussion about the inn. Like she was the queen, everyone abided by Gigi’s edict to keep business off the table. Well, except for Harper, who was allowed to discuss at length her new beekeeping venture.
Maybe it was because there were so many of them…or maybe it was because of who they were…but I didn’t feel like an adversary here. Hell, I didn’t even feel like an outsider.
But mostly, I watched how they interacted with Frankie. How they all instinctively looked to her to chime in at every turn. I didn’t know if they realized it or not, how often they turned to her. Even when they teased her. Even when they shared stories about her pranks. They still anchored their conversation around her.
Maybe because it was so easy to find comfort in her warmth.
I would know…I had, too.
“Frankie, dear, can you help me and your mother in the kitchen?” Gigi asked as everyone stood to move the conversation to the couches in the living room.
Frankie flashed me an apologetic smile and followed Gigi, leaving me to follow the rest of her siblings and cousins into the living room. I settled on a spot next to the fireplace, standing with my shoulder propped against the hearth and my gaze anchored on Frankie. Sipping the last of my drink, I savored her infectious laughter that reached me all the way from the kitchen.
It was definitely a mistake to join them for dinner. A line that shouldn’t have been crossed. But there was no going back now—I was afraid there never would be.
“Mr. Collins.” Lou stepped in front of me, blocking my view of her sister. I should be seeing the same thing. The same honey hair. The same almond eyes. The same plump pink lips perpetually pinned in a tempting smile.
But Lou looked nothing like her twin sister. Not to me.
“Please,” I begged. “Call me Chandler.”
Her shoulders rolled back, and she took a deep breath. Unlike her sister, Lou Kinkade had to physically prepare herself to stand up to me.
“I think I’d rather call you Mr. Collins for this conversation,” she said simply, the words like a bucket of ice water over all the warmth in my chest .
It looked like the no-business-at-family-dinner rule was about to be broken.
“Of course.” I nodded curtly. “I assume this is about the inn?”
“Yes,” she hesitated. “And no.”
“Interesting…”
Lou took a deep breath, glanced in the direction of the kitchen, and blurted out, “Mr. Collins, I’d like to match Mr. Fairfax’s offer for the inn.”
I swayed back. Of all the things…
“You want to offer the same amount?” I repeated, a little dumbstruck at the surprising direction of the conversation.
It wasn’t that Lou’s offer was unreasonably low; it was pretty decent for someone who planned on revitalizing the property. But for someone like Fairfax, who was going to start from scratch and build modern condos, that return could justify a much higher bid.
“Yes.”
My brow creased. “Are you sure?”
It wasn’t my place to question her or any buyer’s financial situation. If she was able to offer more, she could. But after all my conversations with Frankie, especially when she was pretending to be Lou, I’d gleaned that the woman in front of me was putting everything she had on the line to buy this place. And if that was the case, to offer more meant she…
“Yes, she’s sure,” a deeper voice chimed in. Kit Kinkade moved behind his sister, his arms barreled over his chest.
He was the one chipping in.
“Kit.” Lou shot her brother a look, one that reminded me of her sister’s warning glare. Based on his response, it clearly wasn’t a look he was used to receiving from Lou. “I’ll handle this. ”
Kit grumbled low, his expression maintaining a distinct frown as he walked away.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. He clearly is very protective of the two of you.”
“He tries to be.” She laughed softly. “But only one of us usually lets him get away with it.” Her. Not Frankie. At the allusion to her sister, she quieted, tucking her arms across her chest. “If I match Mr. Fairfax’s offer, will you accept mine?”
My head tipped. “How do you know I wouldn’t accept yours even if you didn’t?”
The key to being a successful businessman—a successful anything, really—was understanding peoples’ motives. I could offer three million for a property worth half that, but if the owner only cared about the preservation of the building, then the astronomical number wouldn’t matter. In business, in life, you had to meet people where they were at.
“That’s the problem, Mr. Collins. I’m afraid you would,” she said softly. Surprisingly soft for how firmly she held my gaze.
“I don’t understand.”
“What’s going on between you and my sister?” she demanded, her pulse rattling against the side of her neck.
Shit. I brought my glass to my lips and bought myself a few seconds to think with a long sip. What was going on between Frankie and me? We slept together. One night. The terms were clear: only pleasure. I didn’t know the truth, let alone if I should be the one to break it to her family.
“Nothing,” I clipped. “We have a business arrangement to assess certain…qualities of the inn.”
She blushed, but not the way Frankie did. Lou’s blush was instantaneous, like a firework of red exploding on her skin. Frankie’s was slower. More subtle. Like the creeping stretch of a wildfire spreading across her face.
“But I know you already knew that,” I added at the end. So why was she asking me? Because I was here for dinner? Because their grandmother kept looking at me as though she knew something I didn’t?
“And what will you do when that arrangement ends and you decide who gets the inn?”
“What do you mean?” I treaded cautiously.
“Will you leave? Go back to Boston?” she pressed insistently.
My jaw went slack. I hadn’t gotten that far yet. Of course, that had been my plan—should still be my plan. But last night…Frankie…
“ Don’t do what I did, Chandler. Don’t be too vulnerable.”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat and sank my chin into a firm nod. “Of course.”
Mom’s words earlier still gripped me—they hung over me like a kind of phantom I couldn’t fully make out. The only thing I could think was she meant she was too vulnerable when she’d fallen for my father, and now she was warning me not to do the same.
Frankie and I had an agreement: to treat pleasure like business, and like any other arrangement, we’d walk away when the terms were done. Her, back to her business and her family. And me, back to Boston and the deal that would finally destroy all that remained of my father’s legacy.
“Are you trying to pay me off? Get me to leave sooner?”
Tomorrow was the last day of the dare anyway, though I’d be lying if I hadn’t spent a good portion of the day thinking about how to extend my time here. But I couldn’t. I had to finish acquiring GC Holdings. I worked too long…too hard. I needed to be free of my father, and I couldn’t let anything get in the way .
Lou gave a weak smile and then let her eyes wander in her sister’s direction.“The thing about my sister, Mr. Collins, is that she puts on a good show.All my life, she’s protected me. Stood up for me. Fought for me.” She cleared the emotion from her voice. “Did you know we’ve never traded places? In twenty-seven years, we’ve never pretended to be each other. Until you.” Her gaze returned to mine. “My sister risked everything, including her identity, to help convince you to sell the inn.”
“So, you want to offer me more money instead?”
“I was going to rescind my offer altogether, but after everything Frankie has done…I can’t do that,” she surprised me by admitting. “I was always the vulnerable one, so Frankie decided to always be strong. Tough. But staying with you at the inn…it’s made her vulnerable in a way I’m not willing to risk,” she declared, her chin notched high, and for a second, I wondered if she did know. But how? “So, I’m offering you more money, Mr. Collins, because I’m not willing to jeopardize her heart.”
“You think her heart is at risk?” My own thudded unsteadily in my chest.
“I think I’m unwilling to find out.”Her expression turned guarded. “My sister deserves something more than business in her life, so if you aren’t going to stay, then I want you to go.”
I stiffened, the invisible gauntlet glittering on the ground between us. Damn, these Kinkade women knew how to get you right where they wanted you.
“Does she know?—”
“No.” Lou shook her head. “She’d kill me if she did.”
I grunted in agreement.
“I’ll consider your offer and let you know in the morning.” I tipped my head just as I felt her approach.
“What am I missing over here?” Frankie joined our conversation with an easy smile—one she wouldn’t have if she knew what she was walking into.
And then I watched something incredible happen.
Countless times, I’d listened to Frankie paint a picture of her twin sister. Of her personality. Of her honest personality and generous spirit. All throughout dinner, I heard tales of when the two of them were younger, Frankie finding trouble and dragging Lou into it with her.
If there was one thing I knew for certain about Elouise Kinkade, it was that she wasn’t a liar.
Until now.
“Oh, nothing. I was just asking Chandler how he feels about the ghosts at the inn.” Lou lied like her life depended on it— like her sister’s heart depended on it.
And I realized everything I’d done, every time I’d let the magnetic draw to Frankie pull me closer, it was all a dangerous mistake. A dangerous vulnerability for the both of us.
I couldn’t offer more, and Lou was right; her sister deserved everything.
I smiled and blended into the lie like it was nothing, but the whole time, Frankie’s eyes were on me. She sensed the change. Like a flame flickering from an invisible breeze.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Drinks. Family. Dessert. Countless times, I forgot why I was there—and why I wasn’t staying. And that was why, by the time I held the door for Frankie and followed her out to the car, I’d already made my decision.
“Is everything okay?” she asked as soon as we were alone.
“Yeah.” I started the engine and pulled out my phone. “Just worried about Mom.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the reason I was texting Tom.
We’re taking the Kinkade offer. Please have Judy send everything over in the morning.
It would soften the blow of leaving Frankie tonight.