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Chapter Five
Frankie
It was only seven-thirty by the time I got home, still sticky and sore from my wild night with Clive Davenport. Without a doubt the most aggressive sex of my life, at least for round one. The second time had been intimate and tender and—not really what I wanted to remember right at that moment. What I really needed was some food, a shower and a few more hours of sleep. Maybe all at once, if I could figure out how to manage it.
I dropped my purse and keys on my kitchen counter and sighed. What a disaster. Even if I saw his point about how it might hurt Marcie. How I might get hurt if he wasn’t all-in on…well, whatever this was.
I meant what I said to him before, though—I dated around and I wasn’t a virgin, but only one man had ever really existed for me.
And he…needed to think about it. About us, together.
My cat, Pete, jumped up on the counter and meowed, indignant about my vanishing act last night. He butted against my arm and then delivered a gentle slap with his paw. Claws out, just to let me know that he was mad.
“Ow,” I muttered as I reached out and scratched under his chin, which seemed to mollify him somewhat. “Message received, cat. You’ll die if you don’t eat.”
I dumped a smelly can of wet food into his kitty dish and stood back as he attacked his meal while I munched on a bowl of cereal. After we both finished our breakfasts, I set the dirty dishes in the sink and plodded into my bathroom, shedding my clothes as I went and gathering my hair up into a high bun. The hot spray felt good on my abused body as it washed Clive’s lingering scent away. I winced as I gently washed between my legs—Clive was huge, the biggest man I’d ever slept with by a long shot, and it had been a while.
A long time, I thought with a grimace. Maybe…a year?
No wonder I’m sore, I thought as I rinsed the last of my lemon-scented body wash away.
I felt a little more human after my shower. Pete waited for me on the bathroom counter as I stepped out, mewing his consternation as I slid into some sweats.
“I know you were lonely, buddy,” I muttered as I padded toward my bed, smothering a yawn. He jumped up onto the mattress as I slid between the sheets and sauntered up to his usual spot on the empty pillow next to mine.
“He’s like a little king,” Kresley remarked the first time she saw him settle on the pillows like that, when he was still a kitten fresh from the shelter.
“Yeah, King Asshole,” I said to her, and we’d both laughed. But I never minded enough to kick him off the pillows, and two years later, he still did it every night. Or morning, as it happened.
“I screwed up, Pete,” I said to my cat as he kneaded the cushion into his preferred shape. I rolled to my side, staring at him as he curled into a purring little spiral on the pillow. “I think I’m in love, but I don’t know if he wants me back.”
“Brr,” Pete replied sympathetically. He leaned forward and touched the tip of his damp nose to mine.
“You’re right,” I said, and yawned once more as the previous night’s lack of sleep caught up to me. “You’re the only man I truly need.”
I took a deep breath and let myself sink into the softness of my blankets and sheets around my tired body, the relief of being back in my own space, and the safety of being with a tiny creature who would always love me unconditionally. I reached out to give Pete one final scratch behind the ears, and then closed my eyes and slept.
* * *
“There she is,” Mom said as I stepped into the warm, fragrant Pallas kitchen.
The air was redolent with the rich smell of kokkinisto, Greek beef stew, which simmered on the stove in an enormous Dutch oven. My mouth watered and my belly growled. I hadn’t eaten since my bowl of cereal that morning, before I passed out for another four hours. I lounged around all afternoon in front of the television with Pete on my lap, until it was time to get dressed and head to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner.
Pallas family rules—miss Sunday dinner and be cut out of the will, as my dad liked to say.
“Your older brothers are all here already,” Mom said as she folded me into a hug. I sank my face into her shoulder and breathed in deep, letting her comforting smell seep into my wounded heart. “They’re all out in the living room. Why don’t you go and join them before I put supper on the table?”
I helped myself to a glass of red wine and took a tiny sip as I walked out into the living room, savoring the rich, dry flavors as they mingled in my mouth. A chorus of shouts from the rest of my large family greeted me, and I couldn’t help but smile broadly.
“C’mere,” my oldest brother, Nicky, said as he dragged me in for a hug.
He held me tightly for just a second before he let go and pushed me over to Ian, George and Andy. Just like always, Dad went last after Andy.
“Hey, baby,” he said, grunting as he squeezed me so tight that I almost spilled my wine. “Good weekend?”
“Much better now that I’ve seen you guys,” I said honestly as he released his death grip.
I turned and headed over to Nana, who lounged on her recliner in the corner. I set my wine down on the mantle above the fireplace and leaned down to wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to her wrinkled cheek.
