Frankie tucks her head under my chin. She smells faintly of Flamingo’s, but also something else. Something soft and lightly floral, with a hint of citrus.
“Cheers, Cal.” She sighs, then steps back, but not out of my arms, and tips her chin to look at me. “Maybe just a few days to see if things blow over…then I’ll decide what to do.”
The only light in the hallway comes from the foyer, leaving Frankie’s face in soft shadows. I look into her eyes, hoping they’ll tell me if I’m misreading the invitation her body is sending.Her tongue darts between her lips, pulls back slowly, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.
That’s all it takes to make me want more than I should. Like a bull keyed up behind the gate. With as much control as I can muster, I tug her gently closer, ready to lay everything out for her.
“Frankie, stop me if I’m overstepping…” I tell her. “But I’m going to kiss you now.”
The words aren’t out before her mouth is pressed to mine, her hands wrapped around my neck, fingers in my hair. I grasp her hips, pressing my palms around her waist, sinking deeper into our kiss. My first kiss since Kayla died.
I’m as hungry as any man would be who hadn’t been with a woman in over three years. I tighten my hold on her and walk us backward until I’ve got her pressed against the door. She scrapes her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. I trail my lips across her jaw to the tip of her ear. I take it between my teeth, her breath hitches, and my desire deepens.
Need drives my mouth back to hers. A need to take her breath away again. A need to quiet the burning that ignites whenever she’s near. A need to know every part of her.
Our kisses grow deeper, and I reach for the doorknob behind her, my imagination filling with pictures of carrying her to the bed just feet away. Then a thought breaks through the fog of my desire.
Unmet physical needs aren’t driving my desire,a need for Frankie is.
A need for her to stay. A need I could see growing into never letting her go. A need to keep her close, not just for myself, but for Junie, too.
If Frankie decides to leave Serenity Cove, I have to be able to tell her goodbye without any strings attached. Taking her tobed would make that impossible. I learned that about myself the hard way with Kayla.
My instinct for self-protection kicks in. I step back, unwinding my hands from behind her waist to rest them on her hips. I take a breath to explain.
Frankie though, still has her hands wrapped around my neck and moves in for another kiss. I turn my head. Her lips brush the corner of my mouth.
I step further away and hold her at arm’s length.
“We should say goodnight,” I mumble, very aware of my palms still pressed into the curve of her hipbones.
The surprise on Frankie’s face morphs into hurt.
Regret spills over me.
She blinks, and the hurt is gone, replaced by something worse. Nothing. Every emotion is gone.
“G’night, then,” she says with her too-practiced smile before stepping into the guest room and closing the door behind her.
And I go to my room, more alone than I’ve been since even before Kayla died.
Chapter 11
Frankie
Ilean against the door, my whole body burning.
Not from Cal’s kiss—okay, from that too—but I can’t separate the heat from our kiss from the hot shame of his rejection.
I've got no clue what I did wrong—what made him run—but it must have been something. Could be a million things, really. I just wish I could peg the main culprit.
One second, we’re pressed together closer than surf wax on a hot board. Next blink, he’s pushing me away and jogging down the hall. But not before I missed every signal he was sending and tried to launch myself at him when he pulled away.
Not even the packaged toothbrush, fresh towels, and borrowed pyjamas Jo set out for me can ease my embarrassment. It’s Brandon all over. I mistook Cal’s interest in helping me as interestinme. Like I haven’t vowed I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
That’s some deep therapy stuff right there.
First Dad, then Brandon, now Cal.I should have paid someone when I had the money to help me unpack why I jump in, boots and all, every time a man shows the tiniest interest me. What’s so broken in me that, the second some guy tries to protect me, I forget I can take care of myself? Whether it’s Malcolm keeping me from making a “bad” investment, Brandon getting me away from Malcolm and the guy he’d chosen for me, or Cal whisking me away from stickybeaks.
