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“How did he know?” I ask, taking in a gulp of air.
“Those men have been through it all, and they know each other inside and out. Risk says Hammer couldn’t take his eyes off you. When Risk came by the next morning, Hammer jumped at the chance to meet you. He’s never done that before.” Then she adds, “With anyone.”
I want to know more, but right on cue, Gabriella comes over and hands her mother the brush and makes her way between her legs, kneeling with her back to Vi. “I need help, Mommy.”
“Which ponytail are we making?” Vi asks her daughter. Gabriella pushes the button on the video and plays it for us. “I think I can do that.”
“I know you can, Mommy. You’re good at everything.” Gabriella turns to look at her mother. I’ve always seen the hard-ass Vi, but in this moment, I see the soft underbelly of a fantastic mother who adores her girl. Gabriella turns back around and says, “I really liked the cookies, Auntie Frankie, but I’m getting kind of hungry again.”
“Well, we can’t have you going hungry. I think I can rustle up some sandwiches,” I tell her.
“I got it,” Willow jumps in. “That is, if you don’t mind me going through your kitchen.”
“Be my guest,” I invite. “I was told to stay put all day, so you’re actually doing me a favor.”
Several hours later, the ladies are on their way home, but not before Vi gives each of us a manicure, complete with sparkly pink nail polish. Gabby had second thoughts about the ponytail and settled on two very fancy pigtails, complete with shimmering ribbons woven into them.
Normally, being left alone with my thoughts could result in a downward spiral of emotions, but not this time. I’m remembering that Hammer saw me the night I moved in and persuaded Risk to bring him around. I felt the pull of Hammer the second he walked into my house. When he stayed to help me unpack, I was nervous and yet, at the same time, felt calm. Calmer than I have in a very long time.
This silence in the room isn’t scary anymore. I’ve been waiting for the phone to ring, to have another shoe drop, another tragedy to happen. Hammer taught me to live in the present. This is my moment of silence. Although, I’m looking forward to more days of pigtails and polish, I think as I wiggle my fingers to watch them shimmer in the sunlight.
SIXTEEN
Definitely Worth Being Bad for
FRANCESCA
Hammer said to call him anytime, but it seems silly to call and see what he wants for dinner. Hammer hasn’t called, and I have no idea when he’s going to be back. I thought of texting him, but I know that when he’s after the bad guys, he needs to concentrate.
Cookies and an apple aren’t going to sustain us for dinner, and I do need to see how my ankle is doing. I’m thinking if I take my time and sit on the stool, I’d be able to pull together a salad. If that goes well, I’ll give chicken a try.
I push myself off the sofa. I’ve learned that by leaning heavily on the back, then grasping the back of the chair, followed by clinging to the wall, I can make it to the bathroom and back with nary a glitch. Getting to the kitchen will be much easier. I make it to the kitchen island and sit on the stool for a quick rest, then head over to the refrigerator, to poke my nose in it and rifle through the crisper to find the makings for a salad. Lettuce, tomato, cucumber… As I find what I need, I place it on the counter next to me.
Batting a thousand so far. I give myself a silent pat on the back. I drag the stool to the sink and wash the vegetables before cutting them and putting the salad together. I’ll leave the dressing for last. That requires me to reach across to the other side of the kitchen, and I’m already a little worn out.
After a short rest period, I decide to grab the three chicken breasts and season them. I stand, but nearly topple over when I hear Hammer’s booming voice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” By this point, I’m teetering, and Hammer races over to catch me before I fall on my ass.
“You nearly made me fall,” I accuse as I cling to him tightly, catching my breath.
“You’re supposed to be resting.” He frowns.
“I was making dinner,” I tell him, defiantly jutting out my chin.
“I brought dinner,” he announces.
“And how was I supposed to know that?” I push at his chest to try to pull away from him. That’s an impossible mission with his hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.
Hammer runs his cheek over mine, and I feel his lips on my neck. “You could have called me.”
I stop pushing him away as I feel his breath on my skin and soft lips on my shoulder. I nearly forget what we’re talking about. “Um… You were working. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You promised me you’d stay put.”
“It was for a good reason,” I counter. “I didn’t know you’d bring home dinner.”
“That’s two reasons,” he says.
I scan his face. “Two reasons for what?” I frown.
