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I need the whole story. There’s more that Francesca’s not telling me. She’s racked with guilt and fear, and it’s clearly eating her up inside. Orion can get me information, but I want to hear it from Francesca herself. I want her trust, and to gain it, it seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me. From the conversations we’ve had so far, anyone she’s spoken to in confidence has either betrayed her or let her down.
I let it go for now. Tomorrow is another day, and Francesca and I could use a quiet night. Before we head off to bed, I tell about the meeting, not in detail but enough that she understands that the brotherhood is on her side. Now, as she lies nestled next to me, I listen for the even breathing that tells me she’s sleeping soundly. I gently slide my hand over her back. The silk of her top rises up, and I can’t resist touching her soft, creamy skin. I feel the muscles relax, her body becoming pliant, curling into me. A small sigh escapes her lips. I brush my lips over her temple.
After work tomorrow, I’m going to try a different approach. I’m taking Francesca out for dinner at the diner. Millie, the owner, is a loving, down-to-earth woman. Everyone in town loves Millie, not only because of her sweet nature, but because she tells it like it is. She’s not rude, just honest, but in a way that lets you know she cares about you.
Seeing that Francesca has lost the only two women in her life who meant anything to her, Millie might make all the difference.
Francesca
Hammer kept his word and is still next to me when I wake up in the morning. He was also there when I was jerked awake by a nightmare that I can’t even remember now, but I know it was awful. Hammer’s warm body felt good, spooning me in his arms, until I stopped shaking. He murmured sweetly in my ear until I nodded off again.
Unfortunately, Hammer has to take off early to shower and change for work, but not before he tells me he’ll be by around seven to take me to dinner.
“We’re going to Millie’s Diner. Good food that sticks to your ribs,” he says.
“What’s the dress code?” The minute I utter those words, Hammer bursts out laughing.
“Casual, babe. Wear what makes you comfortable.”
I know it probably seems ludicrous to Hammer, but “casual” doesn’t tell me very much, and I suspect my idea of comfortable is probably very different from his. “Um, jeans?”
“That works,” he replies as he walks to the door, taking me with him. When we reach the door, he gives a tug, and I stumble into him, our bodies flush against each other. He looks down at me and says, “This is it, baby. Buckle up. This is our first real kiss.”
My eyes grow wide, and I suck in a breath. His arm banded around my waist, lifts me to my toes as his mouth descends over mine. His soft, supple, full lips kiss me sweetly. A warmth spreads through me, and my fingers glide through his hair, to the back of his head to hold him to me. I open my mouth to let him in. His tongue slides over my lower lip, then duels with my own. Neither of us wants the kiss to end, but when our lips finally part, his nose nuzzles mine. Both of us are breathing heavily. When my eyes flutter open, I see the fire in his eyes. It is a good look on him. A surge of happiness goes through me, knowing that I put those flames of desire in his eyes.
After Hammer leaves, I’m left to think about the date we have tonight, and an onset of panic drives me to my closet. Not a single pair of jeans to be found. I spent my time at luncheons, charity benefits, and galas. Looking my best was a necessity, and jeans were never part of my style. How can it be that I have nothing suitable to wear for my first date with Hammer?
Right! I need a plan. I’m going into town anyway. They must have shops, and with a bunch of bikers and biker babes in town, they must have a boutique that would carry something suitable. I’ll drop by Rose’s first. I’m sure she’ll be able to give me some suggestions.
“Wow, Francesca, you look fantastic.” Rose greets me with excitement when she sees me at the entrance of her shop. Standing at the counter putting together a bouquet, Rose is bright and cheerful and totally in her element in her flower shop. “I’ll be right with you. These are being picked up soon, and I promised to have them ready,” she says as she wraps an emerald-green ribbon around the box and ties it into a bow. “There! All done!” she exclaims.
“You have quite a talent,” I say as I look around her shop. The array of flowers is spectacular. But it’s the little details that make the place special. The twinkle lights around the windows and woven through the shelves highlight the crafts and collectibles that would make lovely gifts all on their own.
I’m attracted to some purple passion flowers in a vase mixed with purple asters, mini lavender carnations, and a unique white flower that I’ve never seen before.
Rose follows me over to the flowers. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
I reach out and touch the delicate blooms. “Simple and elegant. I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”
“They’re called Queen of the Night, and they’re very rare. As a matter of fact, I’m lucky to get them. They’re native to Mexico and South America, and although they can be grown in greenhouses, not many people do. Every flower has a meaning, and this one is no exception. They represent how eternity lies in the small moments of joy.”
Small moments of joy. Tears come to my eyes. It’s as if these flowers were meant to be mine. I clear my throat and whisper, “I’d like to buy this vase, please.” I turn to her.
Rose searches my face and immediately observes how much they mean to me. “They’re yours. My gift to you,” she replies, taking the vase. She sets it on the counter and begins to package it in a sturdy box.
“Oh no. You’ve already done too much. The flowers yesterday were more than generous.”
“Francesca, you already paid for those flowers. Your expression when you look at them is better than money,” she says.
I smile. “You have a business to run, Rose. You do great work and deserve to be paid.”
“Tell you what, take these and give them a good home. Next time, I’ll charge you double,” she teases. She makes me laugh, and she grins. “You have a great laugh. You should do it more often.”
As Rose carefully ties up the box, I ask about Millie’s Diner. “Are you going there?” she asks.
“Hammer is taking me there tonight.”
Rose stops what she’s doing and meets my gaze. “On a date?”
