CHAPTER 50
Special K
We wake up with our limbs entwined, the duvet wrapped around us like a mummy. My immediate instinct is to check for Pussy, and when I don’t see her, alarm courses through me.
And then I remember—she’s with Jasmine.
I guess this means that damn cat’s got me wrapped around her claw. I’m Pussy whipped.
That’s cool.
I breathe deeply.
I think I’m just now realizing how much I love my bed. I love my bedroom, too, and I love my house. I never want to leave it. I want to stay here with Frankie… for as long as we both shall live.
She stirs and opens one eye. “Yep, that wasn’t a dream. I really climbed all over you in the shower.”
“Say what?” I look down at her, still not used to seeing her wake up in my arms. “Can you describe to me what happened in the shower so that I can commit to memory? I’m a visual learner.”
Frankie laughs and stretches, freeing her arms from our covers.
“I don’t have any clothes for you,” I say. “Usually, I’d be good with that, but, you know… the family.”
“Oh, I know. They’re wonderful, Special K. And your stories were spot-on. I know I fucked with your brothers a little bit—I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? I should be cutting you a check.”
She giggles. “I’ll wear Emma’s tracksuit again today, but for now, do you have a T-shirt I could wear?”
“Oh,” I breathe. “One of my Navy shirts?”
She props up on her elbow to study me. “That rang a bell for you, didn’t it? Would you like to see me in one of your Navy shirts?”
We both hop out of bed and after I select an old shirt from the dresser, I hand it to her. She slips it over her braless body and then pulls her long hair out from the neckline. It fits her like a dress, and she’s hot, hot, hot.
So fucking hot.
“Oh, yes,” she says analyzing my face. “This really got some bells ringing.”
I wrap one arm around her waist and pull her close. “Whenever I’m with you, my bell’s rung.”
She bites her bottom lip and smiles, patting my chest.
“Will you be all right seeing me drink coffee in your shirt? Do you have coffee?”
“I’m almost certain I have coffee.”
I take Frankie out to the kitchen where I get a pot brewing, then give her a quick and dirty tour of the place. I can see she’s impressed. We’re standing in the media room when she nods. “This would be a great place to watch ‘Casablanca.’”
“Or ‘Seven Samurai.’”
“Or both,” she says, slipping her arm around my waist.
On our return to the kitchen, I ask her, “You doing okay this morning?”
She nods. “I apologize for losing it like I did.”
“I think you needed to.”
She nods again, keeping her thoughts to herself—shocker. “The more I know about him the safer you’ll be. This is what I’m trained to do, Boots. Intelligence. But you got to give me some more to work with.”
“I understand,” she says, but when we reach the kitchen, she grabs my hand and looks up at me, her expression dire. “I will not tell you his name. I won’t speak it out loud.”
“Frankie—”
“The less you know about him the better. If you go poking around in his world, he will notice, and then everyone in your beautiful, wonderful family will be a target. But I’ll give you background, enough that you can figure out where the best place for me might be. Do we have a deal?”
I scrunch up my mouth. “You’re sure he’s part of the Russian mob?”
She laughs, looks up at the ceiling, then sighs. “Yeah. Real sure.”
I find an old box of Nilla wafers in the cabinet and we take our coffee out to the deck to watch the sunrise over the eastern mountains. I love to listen to the sounds of the wilderness waking up.
“Heaven,” she says. She sips her coffee, stretches out her sexy, bare legs on the chaise lounge, and glances up through the Aspens that frame my deck. “And that’s the opinion of a city girl. I imagine this would be Nirvana for a country girl.”
“Summer and Phoebe seem to like it, and they’re as country as it gets.”
“And how about that woman?”
I knew it was coming. We might as well get it behind us. I look at her.
“You know,” she says. “The harpy in the driveway.”
I nearly spit out my coffee. I bang on my chest and get myself under control. “Man, I can’t believe I missed that opportunity!”
Frankie’s brows crinkle. “Opportunity for what?”
“Her name’s Harper. I’m not I’m not even joking.”
“Harper. Ugh. But it’s perfect for her,” Frankie says, chomping down on a cookie.
I’m impressed that she’s being so diplomatic, since she’s practically vibrating with curiosity. So I launch into it.
“We dated for two years. She became a hotshot captain in the Navy. And I was planning to propose.”
She glances over at me, crumbs falling on my Navy shirt. I adore this girl. “What happened?”
“I got arrested and she promptly dropped my sorry ass. She didn’t want my troubles to impact her career advancement.”
Frankie slaps her thigh. “See? Aren’t I the best judge of character?
I knew she was a bitch when I first laid eyes on her!
” She takes another bite of her cookie and shrugs.
“I’m not as great when it comes to Russian criminals, I guess.
So, does she hang around here a lot? Is she friends with your family still? ”
“I hadn’t seen her since my arrest, and she showed up here unannounced a few days ago. She said she wanted to work for our tech firm, but I’m not sure what to believe. At first, I wondered if she’d come here to, you know, rat me out to my family.”
“And?” Frankie asks. “That wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Ohhhh,” Frankie says. “Armed Forces Barbie wants you back.”
“Maybe.”
She cocks her head to the side. “And you? You want her back? I mean, if she were sitting here looking smokin’ hot in your T-shirt instead of me, would you want her back?”
“Fuck no,” I say without hesitation. “Look,” I say, swinging my legs over the side of the lounge and leaning toward her. “It’s not just your smokin’ bod in that shirt or the fact that you’ve got the prettiest face I’ve ever seen and that you’re a gyat damn dynamo in bed.”
She shakes her head. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, Special K.”
“Too bad. I’m not done.” I scoot closer and grab one of her hands.
“And it isn’t about how smart and funny you are and that you’re a tits-with-assets investor or that you’re a badass survivor, though all those things make you who you are.
It’s how I feel when I’m around you. I can relax and be myself.
I can laugh and feel happy. I’m not trying to be someone I’m not so that you approve of me.
You like me for who I am, and I like you for all that you are, and I know you have to leave, I get it, but my hope is that it won’t be forever.
Because we’re not done being good to each other, Boots. We’ve only started.”
She blinks at me, trying to sort through everything I just dumped on her.
“Sorry. I kind of went off the rails.”
She laughs, stands, and plops down on my lap, slipping her arms around my neck. “I don’t want to screw up your life,” she says, seriously. “Your life before the Squatter of Washoe Ridge showed up.”
I close my eyes. I get it now. “My sisters-in-law paid you a visit.”
“They most certainly did, and I loved it. Don’t be mad at them. They really love you, Special K.” She traces a finger along my jaw. “You’re kind of a loveable guy.”
And she kisses me.