Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
T hey dashed into the restaurant on the corner, simply because it was close, and placed their take-out orders. As they waited for their food, Reed took a few minutes to try to put the last two days in perspective. Last night had been one of the best nights of his life, but he wasn’t sure the same could be said for Frankie.
As was becoming her habit, she shut down after sex. He wasn’t sure how she was able to change from sexy, affectionate lover to casual acquaintance in the blink of an eye, but she could. Hell, she changed personas the way some people changed underwear. It left him constantly scrambling to keep up. Him. A man who’d never followed anyone’s lead.
After their amazing lovemaking on the couch, she’d stood up and gotten dressed as if they’d done no more than share a cup of coffee. He’d tried several times to bring it up, but she’d shot him down, insisting they needed to get to work on the Wedded Bliss project. Finally, he’d stopped trying. They’d get the presentation out of the way, share their last red-hot fantasy, and then Ms. Frankie Carlyle was in for a rude awakening because for the first time ever, work had taken a backseat to something else in Reed’s life.
He was in love with her, and he didn’t intend to rest until she had his ring on her finger.
“Shit,” he heard her mutter.
He looked over as an older couple approached them. Frankie stiffened beside him.
“Frankie?” he asked.
The look she gave him was a perfect mixture of apprehension and annoyance, but before he could question her, the couple stopped in front of them and she turned to acknowledge them.
“Hi, Mom, Dad. What are you guys doing here?”
Frankie’s parents? Reed perked up, taking in the appearance of the couple who’d managed to produce one of the most dynamic women he’d ever met. They certainly weren’t what he expected. Her mother was dressed very simply, projecting an air of absolute plainness. Her hair was short—combed rather than styled. She wore no makeup, a shapeless navy blue skirt and a basic tan top. Her father was dressed in a dark suit, simple and about twenty years out of style. His hair was slicked back, giving him a stern, formidable look. He also noticed the man didn’t smile when he spotted Frankie.
“It’s Thursday night,” her mother replied as if her response answered everything. Apparently it did, because Frankie nodded.
She looked at him and forced a pleasant smile to her face. To her parents, it might look real, but he could see the strained lines at her brow, around her mouth.
“Thursday is my parents’ night to eat out. They’ve maintained the same routine for years.”
He nodded his understanding as she gestured toward the couple, instigating the introductions, “Reed, these are my parents, Ronald and Georgia Carlyle. Mom, Dad, this is Reed Donovan, my new marketing partner at work.” He bristled at the introduction, wishing she’d said boyfriend instead.
Oh well, plenty of time for that later.
Her mother smiled demurely, while her father’s eyes studied him with interest.
“Are you two here on a date?” Georgia asked.
Frankie quickly shook her head. “No, Mom. We’re working late tonight. Took a break to get some dinner.”
Her father scowled at her response, but said nothing.
“Oh.” Reed could hear from her mother’s tone she was disappointed. He forced back a chuckle. It appeared Georgia and his mother shared the matchmaking streak. His mother despaired of him ever getting married and giving her grandchildren.
Clearly Frankie felt the need to change the subject to something safer. “So how was your dinner? The food here is pretty good, isn’t it?”
Georgia nodded, but it was her father who replied. “The bread was hard. The service was mediocre and your mother hardly touched her steak.”
“Steak?” Frankie asked. “I thought red meat upset your stomach. Why would you order it?”
“I ordered it for her,” her father barked. “She’s eaten steak for years and never had any trouble.”
Mrs. Carlyle shook her head quickly. “I think I must’ve had a touch of the flu the last time I ate it.”
Frankie’s face and the tone of her voice told Reed his lover was quickly losing her temper. “It’s made you sick the last three times you’ve eaten it. Did you read that information I sent you about Irritable Bowel Syndrome?”
Her mother nodded. “Of course, I did, but your father?—”
Mr. Carlyle cut off his wife’s comment. “She’s fine.”
Frankie opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs. Carlyle quickly took her daughter’s hand. “Your father’s right. I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with me.”
Frankie’s father looked at him. “Leave it to women to overreact over every little thing.”
Mrs. Carlyle laughed uneasily. “No need to worry. The steak here was just a bit tough. That’s all.”
“Waste of good money,” Mr. Carlyle muttered.
Mrs. Carlyle smiled at Frankie and quickly changed the subject. It seemed to be a talent the mother and daughter shared, and Reed wondered how much of their lives they’d spent trying to distract Mr. Carlyle from his anger. “I wish I’d known we were going to run into you, Frannie. I would have brought your birthday present. It’s been sitting on the counter for weeks.”
“Birthday?” Reed asked. Had he missed her birthday?
Frankie looked at him, clearly reading his thoughts. “I celebrated it at a bar about a month ago. Spent the evening with this arrogant, but sort of charming man who bought me a glass of red wine.”
He smiled. Not only had he not missed her birthday, he’d been her gift to herself. “Sounds very nice.” He paused, then the devil prodded him to add, “Frannie.”
Frankie narrowed her eyes in warning when he used her mother’s nickname, and then she turned back to her parents. “I’ve been busy with the new job, Mom. I’m sorry. Things should ease up next week, so I’ll swing by for a visit then.”
Ronald snorted at her reply. “Too busy with work.”
Reed was surprised by the amount of malice that laced the man’s words.
“Yeah, Dad. Too busy.”
“Maybe if you put as much energy into dating, you could get married and quit that silly job of yours.” Ronald turned to him, and Reed had a strong premonition the next few minutes were about to take an ugly turn. “Don’t you think a thirty-year-old woman should at least be looking toward marriage?”
Reed wasn’t sure how to answer. He certainly wasn’t one to lecture anyone on the institution of marriage. Until he’d met Frankie, he’d resigned himself to thinking it wasn’t for him. He’d been married to his job, committed to making money, being a success. It was a trait he and Frankie shared.
He was also an all-or-nothing kind of guy, and he didn’t think it was fair to ask a woman to sign on for a lifetime of eating dinners and spending evenings alone, which was why Frankie was tailor-made for him. She’d be working with him in his ideal future, side by side, as his partner and his wife.
“Don’t answer that, Reed.” He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief and take the out she’d provided, but he felt he owed both of them an answer.
“I think everyone is different, Mr. Carlyle. What may have worked for you and your wife may not work for Frankie. When she meets the right guy, when she’s ready to settle down, she will.”
He’d been rather proud of his speech, thinking he’d supported Frankie’s cause against her father. However, Frankie’s face went white with anger, and he suddenly wondered what he’d said wrong.
It didn’t matter. Her father harrumphed and her mother bid them both a hasty goodbye. He watched the couple leave and he waited for the onslaught. She didn’t disappoint him.
“Settle down?”
He was confused by the fury lacing her tone until she continued. “And what if I already consider myself settled down? What if I’m living the life I want to be living and I don’t need some asshole man trying to tell me what to do twenty-four seven?”
“I hardly think marriage equates to?—”
“I want you to listen to me and I want you to actually hear the words coming out of my mouth. I’m not getting married. Ever. I’m not even looking for a relationship. You and I are colleagues, Reed. That’s it. That’s all it’s ever going to be. Our games—these fantasy nights—are just that and nothing more. Don’t lose sight of that.”
She turned and left. He was about to follow when the man behind the counter called out his name to tell him his food was ready. He turned back, pulled out his wallet and paid. His mind replayed her words until his temple began to throb.
What had just happened? And what the hell was he supposed to do now? For the first time in his life, Reed’s confidence faltered. Shit, it hadn’t just fallen.
It had crashed and burned.
Trudging up the stairs to her apartment, Frankie let herself in, dropping her purse by the door. She’d thoroughly fucked up tonight. Hell, she’d been fucking up consistently for the past month. Seeing her parents reminded her of why she’d avoided the trap of a relationship.
Christ. Reed thought she needed to settle down? What the hell did he think she was doing now? Just biding her time, waiting for Mr. Right to come along and save her from her terrible life? She loved her job. She was proud of all she’d achieved. Screw Reed Donovan. Screw her father. Screw all men.
She walked down the hallway to her bathroom, undressing as she went. Turning on the shower, she waited for the water to heat up as she tried to get her temper under control. Maybe she’d be better off taking a cold shower.
Glancing down, she saw the faint marks of whisker burns left on her breasts by Reed. His five o’clock shadow had added a sexy edge to the sensations he’d tantalized her with last night. Lying beneath him as he took her was an image she expected to carry with her to her grave. Her body flushed with memories of their sensual interlude on the couch in his office. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so wanted, so adored. So loved.
She pushed the thought aside. No. It was just sex. That was all it had ever been. She forced that idea into her mind, repeating it, wishing it would penetrate her stubborn heart.
Just sex. Climbing into the shower, she let her thoughts drift back to Reed’s kisses and she felt a twinge in her pussy. He’d filled her perfectly, touching all the hot spots in her body.
Just sex. She dragged her fingers down her stomach until she found her clit. Rubbing lightly at first, then increasing the pressure and speed, she let the memory of riding him, kissing him, play over in her mind. Bending forward, she leaned her head and arm against the wall, breathing heavily as her fingers worked their magic against her clit.
Just sex. She rubbed her herself faster as she imagined Reed’s fingers on her hips, gripping her tightly, directing their play. She thrust three fingers into her pussy, still sensitive from his lovemaking the night before. His deep voice and the words “you’ll never be alone again” reverberated in her mind. She gave herself up to her climax.
She trembled beneath the water as she came down from the orgasm. Her mind whirled over the fact she couldn’t even think of Reed without wanting him. Hell, she’d had sex with him less than twenty-four hours ago, and already she was masturbating to the memory.
She stood slowly, finished her shower and turned the water off. Reaching for a towel, she let her mind wander over all the things she and Reed had shared. While the fantasies had been amazing, she found herself equally enthralled by the man himself. The conversations, the dreams and fears they’d confided to each other. Somewhere along the line, he stopped being an adversary and a colleague. Instead, he’d become a friend, a lover.
She dried off, sighing heavily.
It was time to get things back on track. Time to grasp the reins of control once more. She pulled back the sheets and crawled into bed.
One more bid. One more fantasy. Then she was taking her life back.