Chapter 20
TWENTY
Frankie flipped a fourth pancake onto Waylon’s plate. He glanced at the stack in front of him, then at the single pancake on her plate, and arched a brow.
“You trying to fatten me up?”
She smirked, pouring a generous amount of syrup over her own pancake. “Nah, just keeping you fueled up. You’ve got a long day of saving lives ahead of you, Beefcake . ”
Waylon made a sound suspiciously close to a chuckle and she caught the way his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smile. Her heart warmed in her chest. He cut through the stack and took a huge bite. His eyes closed as he chewed.
“You like?” she asked.
“I love.” He opened his eyes and looked at her, making her heart flip.
“Thank you.” She grinned and looked down at her plate before she could lose her cool. The entire weekend had been nothing short of perfection. But now it was Monday morning, time for them to part ways until their next adventure.
Except, there was no more Adventure Buddy Club. They’d gotten a group email late last evening saying it was officially cancelled since Stephanie had broken her arm. Neither one had said anything, but they’d looked at each other after reading it on their phones, then gone back to work on the last of Waylon’s furniture. She’d hated the thought of leaving the next morning, of getting a promise that Waylon would call and they’d go do something, and then never hearing from him again.
“So. I guess the Adventure Buddy Club is over, huh?” Frankie finally broke the silence.
Waylon had been looking down, tightening a screw. His head shot up so fast she swore she heard the sound barrier break.
“Hell no.”
Frankie felt her tight chest loosen. “No?”
He shook his head. “You still owe me dinner, so don’t even try to weasel out of it.”
Frankie laughed, surprised. “Well okay then.” She turned serious. “What about after dinner?”
“I see no reason why we can’t keep up our own adventures.” Then with a wicked gleam in his eye, he set the screwdriver aside, picked her up, and carried her to the bedroom.
Waylon ordered her onto the bed. “On your hands and knees,” he’d said, and Frankie couldn’t obey him fast enough. He came up behind her and laid his hands on her hips. She shivered in anticipation of what he’d do next. He kept her in suspense until she felt his warm tongue caress her folds, he ate her out until her legs shook and her whole body tensed, then he held onto her while she came long and hard for him.
“I love your gasps, Pixie,” he said, his voice low and heavy with need. She tried to answer him with something clever, but her brain was short-circuiting.
Feeling the tip of his cock press against her opening did not help clear her head.
“I need to be inside you,” he breathed against her ear, which made her already-soaking wet pussy gush. “Do you want this, Pix?” He let go of one hip and grabbed his cock. He rubbed the tip achingly slowly up and down her lips.
“Oh God, yes,” she gasped. “God, yes, please, right now .” She tried to back up, to take him in, but he grabbed both hips again and held them firmly, the sadistic bastard.
Waylon chuckled. “So damn sexy when she’s hungry.”
“So damn annoying when he’s in charge,” she countered. Which made him laugh.
“All right, Pix.” She lost the touch of his hand as he fisted his cock again, then slid achingly slowly into her.
Blessed relief.
He moved gently inside her as his hand slid over her hip to find her clit. Relief turned to torture.
“You won’t break me, Waylon,” Frankie told him. “I know you can go harder.”
“Pix.”
“I mean it. Please .”
He pounded into her, his grunts of pleasure driving her wild—just like everything else he did. His fingers stroked her, his cock slammed deep inside—softness versus a good, hard fucking. Soon she was climbing to the peak of orgasm again. She cried out his name as waves of pleasure rocked her body. As Waylon tensed, he groaned out her name.
“Frankie. Fuck . So good.” She felt his cock pulse as he emptied into her. He kissed the nape of her neck and nuzzled there.
“I love the way your hair smells.”
“Rosemary oil. It’s supposed to help my hair grow faster.”
“Did you used to wear it long?”
“Oh yeah. Almost to my butt.”
He shivered at that.
“I take it you like long hair?”
“Love it. I like to be able to do this.” He lifted his body, tangled his fingers in her hair, and made a fist. He pulled her head back. “It’s easier with longer hair, but it still works with yours. ”
That was the start of round two—round two of three that night.
She was still pleasantly sore.
Frankie couldn’t recall the last time she’d been this happy. She had a hard time remembering that they were only Buddies.
Buddies with the best benefits ever .
They’d agreed to keep things simple and fun—which included sex because dammit, why not?
She ignored the voice in her head telling her she needed more.
They ate in comfortable silence for a minute, the occasional clink of forks filling the quiet along with Snoopy’s hopeful yips for a piece of bacon. They both found it hard not to spoil him rotten and slipped him tiny crumbs when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Waylon reached for his coffee, then hesitated before he took a sip.
“So. I guess you’re going back to your place today.”
Was that reluctance in his voice? Did he actually want her to stick around? Butterflies rose in her stomach.
“Yeah, I…” And then she remembered.
“What?”
Frankie cleared her throat. “So… funny thing.”
Waylon set his mug down. “Yeah?”
Frankie focused very hard on cutting her pancake. “You remember my alarm?”
His entire body went still. “What about it?”
She winced. “I forgot. When I went home to pack a bag Saturday night, that same malfunctioning message came up.”
“ Frankie. ”
“I know, I know.” She held up a hand before he could launch into whatever protective, exasperated speech was coming. “I’ll call and have the repair guy come back out today. It’s probably just a glitch.”
Waylon didn’t look convinced. His jaw ticked, and he dragged his hand down his face. “I don’t like that it keeps glitching and that it didn’t get fixed the first time. I should have my friend Bear come take a look. Hell, I should have him put in an entirely new system for you. ”
“Waylon, that’s not necessary. Besides, I don’t want to spend money on an expensive system. I’m saving up my money for my next trip.”
“It wouldn’t cost you a thing,” Waylon said softly.
“Oh, don’t even think about paying for it.” Frankie braced, ready for a fight.
“Fine. But I don’t like you being there alone overnight when it keeps breaking. Why don’t you?—”
“Don’t say stay at my place until it’s fixed,” she cut in, pointing her fork at him. “I can handle a repair guy in broad daylight . ”
His expression darkened and she could see the wheels turning in his head.
“Waylon, I’ve been handling everything by myself for a long time without someone monitoring my every move.”
He sat back and let out a long breath as if she’d gut-punched him.
“I meant that as a joke, Beefcake. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”
Waylon waved his hand. “No. You’re right. I’m overstepping.”
Frankie sighed. “You aren’t. You’re just being sweet.”
“You don’t have to say that. I’m not going to…” He trailed off as he looked away.
“Not going to what? Waylon, look at me.”
He did and she could read his thoughts in his pain-filled gaze.
“Why do you think you scare me?”
Waylon flinched as a look of surprise overtook his face.
Frankie nodded slowly. “You think you scare me, or that I think you’re going to hurt me if I don’t agree with you.”
Waylon closed his eyes.
“Why? Why would you think that?” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “All you’ve ever done is shown me kindness. Even last night, I had to convince you in bed that I’m not made of spun glass.”
His expression went neutral as he opened his eyes. He’d locked it down tight, whatever was going on inside his head. She wanted to pry, to poke, to make him tell her what was rattling around in that stubborn skull of his.
“Talk to me.” She gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand. “Buddy.”
He returned her smile with a sad one of his own. “I know what men can do to women, Pixie.”
My friends and I… We can do something about that.
She wondered just how much domestic violence Waylon had seen.
Enough to convince him that because he’s big and tough, women are automatically afraid of him she guessed.
“I know you know, Waylon. But think about this. I won’t let Derek back into my life under any circumstances. I have very good boundaries, I assure you. So do you really think I’d be here if I thought you were going to hurt me?”
He searched her face as if he were looking for the tiniest sign that she was lying to him.
“You aren’t, are you?”
“No. Not in the least.” She grinned. “You’re my Buddy. You’ve always got my back.”
Without breaking eye contact, Waylon stood up and walked around the new table. He took Frankie’s hand and as soon as she stood, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. They stood like that until Waylon asked, “You’ll text me as soon as the repair guy gets there?”
She shook her head and looked up at him. “I don’t want to bother you at work.”
“Pix, it’s not a bother at all. Believe me.” She saw that brief flash of pain in his eyes and wondered again what had happened to him.
“Promise?” She gave him a small smile. The pain in his eyes disappeared.
“Yes.”
“Okay then.”
“And text me again when he’s done. ”
Frankie chuckled. “Yes, sir. I will.”
Waylon gave her a small nod. “All right.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“Actually, is it okay if I stick around here for a while after you leave?”
His whole face lit up. “Stay as long as you like.”
“I thought I’d make a couple phone calls and shoot off some emails for work. I can do that from anywhere. I figure Snoopy’s gotten used to having people around.”
“Snoopy. Yeah.” Waylon’s expression flattened as he glanced at the clock and dropped his arms. “I gotta get going. Thanks for making breakfast.”
Frankie watched as he grabbed his jacket. Waylon picked up his keys from the kitchen counter, hesitated, then opened a drawer. He walked back to her and held up a key.
“This is to the apartment.” He held up a card in his other hand. “And this will get you into the lobby.”
Frankie bit her lower lip as she took them. “Thank you.”
Calm down. Of course he’s going to give you the key to his apartment if you’re staying here. He’ll probably ask for it back tonight .
“Call if anything feels off at your house today , ” he said, voice firm. “I don’t care if it’s nothing.”
Before she could react, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. His lips brushed her temple and then found her mouth.
He left her breathless. Before she could get a grip on herself, he was out the door.
And she was left staring after him, trying to shake the feeling that something huge had just shifted between them.
Frankie had barely hit send on an email when her phone buzzed with a text from Wren.
Coffee? Riversong? Bring Snoopy. I’m dying to meet the little guy!
Frankie grinned at the message. She set her phone down and stretched her arms over her head. She’d had a productive morning. She’d sent three emails off to potential donors and convinced a current donor to increase her company’s yearly donation. She’d also called the alarm company, which apologized and promised to send the repair guy out that evening even though he was booked for the day. She’d sent off a text to Waylon telling him the appointment time and he’d responded with a thumbs up. And a heart.
Definitely productive enough to warrant a coffee break.
Twist my arm, why don’t you?
I live to enable. See you in half an hour.
Frankie glanced down at Snoopy, curled up on the couch beside her with his face buried in a blanket. She ran a hand over his scruffy fur. “Up for a field trip, buddy?”
His tail thumped immediately.
Five minutes later, Snoopy’s carrier was in the passenger seat, the puppy turning in circles and trying his best to look out the window. Frankie smiled as she drove, glancing now and then at him, eager to show him off. In the back of her mind, the conversation at breakfast played and rewound and played again.
She shook it off as she pulled into Riversong’s parking lot. She grabbed a tote bag and took Snoopy out of his carrier and hooked a leash to his collar, though she decided to carry him in. She could see Wren and Rochelle sitting at a table by the front window, deep in conversation.
The second Frankie stepped into Riversong, Snoopy tucked under one arm, Wren and Rochelle’s heads snapped up.
“Awww!” they said in unison. Then both women got up and hurried over, completely ignoring Frankie in favor of her puppy .
“Who’s the cutest little adventurer?” Wren cooed, scratching behind his ears. Snoopy wriggled with joy, his entire body vibrating in excitement.
“I cannot handle how adorable he is,” Rochelle declared, running a gentle hand down his back. “This is criminal levels of cute.”
Frankie smirked. “Glad to know where I rank in this friendship.”
Wren waved her off. “You’re great. But he’s tiny and fluffy. You can’t compete.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “Come on, I’ve been working all morning and I need coffee now.” She turned to the counter where two people were working. One was a broad-shouldered man with his back to her as he tinkered with the huge espresso machine. The other was a woman with dark, curly hair and an air of effortless confidence leaning on her elbows, watching the interaction with a big smile. Frankie had never seen her before, but she didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who she was. April Taylor, one of the owners of Riversong. Wren had mentioned her in passing.
“Is it okay that I brought him in?” Frankie asked April. “If not, his carrier is in my car.”
“Oh, don’t you dare keep him outside,” April answered. “Bring that little guy up right up here.” She waved them toward the counter. “Wren told me you were bringing in a little rescue puppy. Snoopy, right?”
“Yup. Waylon rescued him along with Stephanie.”
“I heard about that, too. Shane told me.” Frankie noticed the slightest tinge of pink in April’s cheeks when she mentioned Shane. “He said he looked Snoopy over at Watchdog.” April held her hands out and Frankie handed her the puppy. She immediately cradled him like a baby against her shoulder. “He’s a little love, isn’t he?”
Before Frankie could say anything, a loud metallic clunk came from the machine, followed by a gruff, irritated voice.
“April, you’re overloading the damn grinder again,” the man muttered. He turned and Frankie noticed he had the same eyes as April—but where she radiated effortless control, he radiated exasperated dad energy.
April didn’t even look at him as she rolled her eyes and said, “No, I’m not, Sonny.”
“You’re about to burn out the motor?—”
“It’s fine. ”
“You said that last time.”
“And I was right . ”
Sonny muttered something under his breath about “stubborn kids” before shaking his head and going back to work.
Frankie grinned. Oh, I like these two.
April handed Snoopy back to Frankie. “What are you drinking?”
Frankie looked at the menu board on the back wall. The coffee shop smelled divine, and the pastries in the display counter made her mouth water. “Everything looks so good, I can’t decide. Surprise me.”
April nodded once. “You got it.” She turned and grabbed a bottle of chocolate syrup.
“You’re off to a good start,” Frankie said.
April tossed her a smile over her shoulder.
“April has a sixth sense for what people want,” Rochelle said.
“Who doesn’t love chocolate?” April shrugged. She finished Frankie’s drink and set it on the counter in front of Frankie.
“What do I owe you?” she asked as she passed Snoopy to Wren.
“On the house.” April snatched a black-and-white cookie from the display. “Here, this matches Snoopy.”
“Aw, thank you.”
April poured another mug of coffee. “I’m going on break, Dad.”
“Figured.” Sonny didn’t look up from the machine.
April walked to the end of the counter and opened a half-door, letting herself out. The four women headed back to the table by the window seat.
“I love this place,” Frankie told April, who smiled proudly.
“I practically live here,” Rochelle said as she sat on the cushioned bench under the window. “It’s a safe space for introverted caffeine addicts.”
Wren set Snoopy on the bench beside Rochelle and picked up her coffee mug. “And for extroverted caffeine addicts.” She clinked her mug against Rochelle’s.
Frankie took a sip of her drink and nearly moaned. “Oh my God.”
April smirked. “Good?”
“Life-changing.”
April leaned back in her chair, satisfied. “Then my work here is done.”
Across the shop, Sonny snorted. “Your work would be done if you’d listen to me about the damn grinder.”
April rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. His doctor told him he needs to lay off the caffeine.”
“Where does he think I work?” Sonny grumbled.
Frankie laughed. Yeah, she was really going to like it here.
Wren set her drink down. “So, we were just talking about Steph.”
Frankie perked up. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s bored out of her mind,” Rochelle said. “Which is why we’re planning a chocolate, flowers, and smut delivery.”
Frankie grinned. “Solid plan.”
“We’re thinking of getting her the next book in the Fate of a Pineapple series,” Wren added.
Frankie frowned. “I’m sorry, the what ?”
April groaned. “Oh no. Don’t bring her into this.”
Wren grinned. “Oh yes , bring her into this.”
Rochelle clapped her hands together. “Okay, so picture this. Regency romance, but reverse harem.”
Frankie blinked. “Wait. Like?—”
“Three men. One heroine,” Wren confirmed.
“And pineapples ?” Frankie burst out laughing.
“Pineapples were a status symbol. They are historically accurate in the book , ” Rochelle said, straight-faced .
“Reverse harems, maybe not so much,” Wren added.
“And it all goes downhill from there,” April muttered into her coffee.
“You love it,” Wren shot back.
April sighed dramatically. “I do.”
Rochelle turned to Frankie, eyes gleaming. “Stephanie started a book club just for the series. You in?”
“Arden mentioned a book club. Same one?”
“It is.”
Frankie smirked. “Hell yes.”
Sonny groaned from behind the counter. “God help us all.”
They laughed and high-fived. After that, the conversation drifted from one topic to another. Frankie took Snoopy out for a potty break. At one point, April got up to handle the lunch surge, then brought back sandwiches for everyone and took another break. While they ate, Rochelle filled them in on her latest translation and Wren showed them some photos she took with her drone on her honeymoon in Hawaii. April had the latest Lyons gossip.
“You can’t believe what people will tell their barista after three shots of espresso,” she said. “Even when said barista and her family has a ‘past.’” She rolled her eyes as she air-quoted.
“Speaking of gossip…” Wren looked Frankie dead in the eye.
“Oh, no.” Laughing, Frankie covered her face.
“So,” Wren drawled. “Elias texted me IKEA. With Waylon.”
April’s eyebrows rose. “Wait, what?” She slammed her hands on the table. “And here I was bragging about how I have all the gossip. You went to IKEA with Waylon ? Spill it, girl!”
“I did,” Frankie admitted. She hesitated; was she betraying his trust? “His apartment was just…sad.”
Wren nodded, more serious now. “That’s what Elias has said. I’ve never been, and he’s only been there a couple of times.”
“I walked in and it was worse than a monk’s cell. I couldn’t stand it.”
“Wait, so you’ve been there?” April set her coffee down.
Frankie rolled her lips in, then said, “I may or may not have spent two weekends there.”
“As Buddies , right?” Rochelle grinned.
“Of course.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Wren sipped her coffee.
April, arms crossed, watched her closely. “So what is the deal with you two?”
Frankie sighed. Even if she hadn’t heard about the IKEA part yet, of course April knew what was going on. “We’re just friends. Buddies. With, you know.”
“Benefits?” Rochelle teased.
Frankie pointed at her. “Exactly. Buddies with benefits. No complications.”
The three women shared a look.
“What?”
April uncrossed her arms and tapped her fingers against her coffee mug, studying Frankie. “I don’t mean to make Waylon sound like a man-whore, but… I don’t think he’s ever taken a woman back to his place since he’s come back home.”
“Yeah, I got that feeling.” Frankie sighed. “So, you grew up with all of them, right?”
April looked uncomfortable.
Shit . “You don’t have to?—”
“No, it’s fine.” April waved her off. “We all went to the same high school. Bear, Gabe, Elias, Waylon, Ben, Brock, Sean, and Shane,” she counted them off on her fingers as she said their names, “they were all inseparable. They’d met when they were little kids, riding the school bus.”
“Elias told me they all lived up in the mountains, so they were always the first to be picked up and the last to be dropped off,” Wren said. “So they bonded.”
April nodded. “Mountain kids versus townies. Unless we had a game against Denver or Boulder or some other city. Then we were all hicks as far as the city kids were concerned.” She laughed lightly .
“I get it. I grew up on a ranch in the sticks,” Frankie assured her.
April saluted her with her coffee mug. “Waylon and Elias were hellraisers in high school,” April continued. “Non-stop partiers, until Ben talked some sense into them.”
“That’s Moose, right?”
“Yeah, that’s him. You’ve met him?”
“No.” Frankie shook her head.
“I’m not surprised. He’s more of a recluse than even Bear and Ellie.” April smiled fondly. “Big sweetheart though. Had some issues in school when he was younger I guess, but by high school, pretty much everyone respected him.” Her smile softened. “He was always kind to us—my sister and me, I mean—and our cousin, Brianna. Anyway, they all ended up in the military eventually. Waylon…” She stopped. Obviously, Frankie wasn’t the only one worried about invading his privacy. “He was the only one who got married.”
Frankie tried not to let her surprise show.
Camille was his wife?
“I don’t know the details.” April glanced at Wren, who shrugged. “But it didn’t end well and he won’t talk about it. Like, at all.”
“He won’t even let Elias bring it up,” Wren added. “And they’re bro-mates.”
“Bro-mates?”
“Yeah, like soulmates, but two dudes.” She grinned.
“He’s been back for years and never dated seriously. So, you going to Waylon’s apartment, that’s kind of a big deal,” April finished.
Frankie’s stomach knotted.
Wren grabbed her hand. “I take it by the way your face just turned green he never told you he was married.”
Frankie gave her an awkward smile. “It’s really none of my business. Like I said, we’re just friends.”
Wren’s squeezed her hand. “Just… Don’t assume he doesn’t want more.”
Before Frankie could respond, her phone chimed—the alarm to remind her it was time to run some errands before going home and waiting for the repair guy.
She exhaled, grabbed her bag, and stood. “I gotta go. I have a repair guy coming to the house, but I need to drop Snoopy off and hit the grocery store first.”
“What broke?” April asked Frankie.
“My burglar alarm.”
April frowned. “Your alarm’s broken?”
Frankie waved a hand. “It’s fine. Just a glitch.”
April looked concerned. “Yikes.”
“More annoying than anything.”
“I’ve gotta run, too,” Wren said, standing up. “And I’ll let you get back to work.”
Rochelle pulled a laptop out of her bag and set it on the table. “April, you really need to start charging me rent.”
The women hugged and made plans for the next book club. Wren walked Frankie to her car.
“So. Not only did you spend the weekend, but Waylon gave you a key ?”
“It’s not like that,” Frankie insisted. “It’s just so I could bring this little guy back,” Frankie said as she kissed Snoopy’s head. She opened the passenger side car door.
Wren folded her arms. “Oh, I see. So I guess he told you to leave it in the apartment when you left.”
Frankie’s eyes went wide.
“He didn’t, did he? Girl .” Wren gave her a warm smile. “I mean this in the nicest way, but I think you’re delusional.”
Frankie laughed as she zipped Snoopy into his carrier. “Seriously, just Buddies,” she reiterated.
“Whatever.”
Wren gave her one last hug before Frankie got in the car. “Think about what I said. There’s a good chance Waylon’s even more delusional than you are about being just Buddies.”
Wren’s words echoed in her head later as she unlocked his apartment door. She looked around at the new furniture. It still looked like a showroom, but after it was worn in a little, his place would look like a home. One she’d helped him build.
She fed Snoopy, then went to the closet. She pulled out his winter coat and felt around in the pocket for the earbud. Still there, of course. She let it go, hung the coat back up, and closed the closet.
“I am delusional, just not the way Wren thinks.”
Dusk was falling by the time Frankie got home. She parked her car in the garage and unloaded the trunk—a couple bags of groceries and her overnight bag. She decided to go in the back door instead of walking all the way around the house. It was less of a pain getting in with the alarm off.
Frankie stepped into her house, juggling her bags as she nudged the door shut behind her. The house was silent, save for the click of the lock sliding into place. It felt weird being here alone after two nights with Waylon. She put her groceries away then picked up her overnight bag to unpack it in the bedroom. As she walked past the front room, she spotted the small box still sitting on the table beside the door where she’d left it. Frankie diverted to the table and picked the package up. She’d totally forgotten about it since bringing it in the other night.
Chemo brain? Or just a great weekend? She grinned. Can’t wait to tell Dan .
It weighed almost nothing. She shook it but couldn’t hear any rattling inside. Probably something she’d ordered and forgotten about.
Yup, chemo brain .
She ripped through the packing tape and peeled back the cardboard flaps.
Black lace and red silk. Delicate. Expensive.
“What the hell?”
She picked up the bundle of fabric and let it unfold, revealing an intricate set of lingerie—way too sheer, way too intimate, definitely nothing she’d would’ve bought for herself. For a moment, she thought it might be from Waylon. But no, that was dumb—the box had been sitting on her porch before they slept together.
A ‘suggestion’ sent by Stephanie? No. She could be pushy, but she wouldn’t go this far.
A small white card rested at the bottom of the box. She picked it up with trepidation and opened it. Her stomach dropped as she read the words.
I can’t wait to see you in this. You’ll be stunning.
—Derek
Frankie’s pulse slammed into overdrive. “How dare he?” Furious, she dropped the card like it burned her. Of all the offensive things Derek had done, this was a new level.
The doorbell rang.
Frankie jumped. For a split second, panic seized her— Derek —but then she remembered the repair appointment.
She dropped the lingerie back into the box and slammed the flaps shut like she was trapping a spider inside. Shaking, she looked out the window. No Derek—just the same repair guy from last time.
Relieved, she opened the door.
“Miss Whitmore,” he greeted with a friendly nod, “Sorry to be back again so soon.”
“Yeah, no worries,” she glanced at his name tag, “Leon. Come on in.” Frankie exhaled, trying to shake the lingering adrenaline. Jesus, calm down. It’s just the alarm guy.
He brushed off his boots on the welcome mat and stepped inside. “Turns out it wasn’t a software issue after all—hardware’s the culprit. I’ve got the parts to swap it out today.” Leon studied her for a second, brow furrowing. “You okay?”
Frankie blinked. “What?”
“You look a little rattled.”
“Oh.” She forced a tight smile. “Just a weird day.”
He nodded like he understood completely. “I can come back later if now’s not a good time.”
“No, no, that’s okay. You’re already here.”
“Fair enough.” He set his bag down in front of the panel. “Shouldn’t take too long, then I’ll be out of your hair.”
Frankie didn’t linger. She tucked the box under her arm, grabbed her overnight bag, and made a beeline for the bedroom. She sat on the bed, setting the box down beside her, and grabbed her phone. Her fingers hovered over the screen for half a second before she typed:
Derek, the lingerie you sent me was wildly inappropriate. Do not contact me again.
She hit send and exhaled.
There.
Done.
Then she tapped over to her texts with Waylon.
Repair guy is here. Same one as last time.
Frankie hesitated before adding:
Everything is fine!
She listened to the repair guy fixing her alarm in the other room as she tried to get her racing heart under control. His phone dinged, and a minute later he called out, “Miss Whitmore? Another appointment just came in, but I want to show you before I leave, I’ve got yours working again.”
Thank God.
Except now she couldn’t shake the dread of facing a night alone in her house.