by J. Sterling
“Can I ask you something about the bar?” I scrambled for a subject change, hoping it would ease the tension radiating from him.
“Anything,” he said, and the worry lines between his brows disappeared altogether.
Thank God.
“What’s the plan? Do you eventually want to open more bars, or just keep this one?”
“That’s a great question, actually,” he said, sounding almost out of breath. “I’m honestly not sure what the future holds, but for now we’re happy with just this one location. It keeps us all in one place, and we really like working together. If we had multiple bars, we’d spread out and never see each other, and none of us would like that idea. Does that sound stupid?”
It was completely endearing to see this tough-looking, confident man be a little insecure and unsure.
“I like it when you think like a person instead of a computer,” I teased. I couldn’t help it. That had been too golden of an opportunity to pass up.
“Yeah, yeah. I know we could increase our income by opening more bars, but we’re not really in it for the money.”
“So he’s human after all.” I all but swooned, and Frank shook his head at me before raising his hand and making a tiny space between his finger and thumb.
“Only a little.”
I reached across the table and parted the space between his fingers as wide as they would go. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Sweet?” He raised his eyebrows in challenge.
“Yeah. It’s sweet that you boys like each other that much. You’re lucky. I don’t have any siblings.” I’d always wanted a brother or sister, but eventually accepted the fact that my mom and Bradley were never going to give me one, even though I put it on my Christmas list in the number-one spot every year for at least a decade.
“Did you hate being an only child?”
“I didn’t hate it, per se. It wasn’t bad, just a little lonely sometimes. But I’d always been intrigued by the idea of having a built-in, forever kind of best friend. You know?”
He nodded. “I do know. We’re pretty lucky. The five Fishers.”
“Five? Oh, you three plus your mom and dad. I get it. Are you showing off your finance major?” I asked, not seriously because he didn’t seem like the numbers type. I wasn’t sure why, but Frank could have told me he majored in How to Make Walking Look Sexy and I would have believed him.
“I did, actually.”
“You did not! I was only joking.”
“I did.”
I tilted my head and stared at his rugged jawline, longing to run my fingers along the scruff that lined it. “I guess I can see it. After all, you do handle the finances for the bar, don’t you?”
“I thought you didn’t know anything else about me and my brothers?”
“You never asked what I knew about you.” I reached for my glass, which had been empty for a while, and Frank hopped up.
“I’ll get us refills. Hold that thought.”
As he walked away, I found myself watching him go. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I could absolutely fall for Frank, and if I did, I was going to fall hard. I already liked him way more than I should, even though I barely knew him.
It was funny how life worked sometimes, how we were drawn to certain people for no good reason, logic be damned. Love wasn’t logical, anyway. Not that I was falling in love with Frank, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I could picture it happening. Who the hell wouldn’t fall for any of those brothers?
I smiled at him as he came back toward me, our drinks in hand. My eyes never left his, and we held that contact until he sat down again across from me. The air between us stirred, and my body buzzed with attraction.
“Now, what were you saying about me?” he asked with a cocky grin.
“I don’t remember. I thought I was talking about Ryan.” I gave Frank a grin of my own, and his green eyes narrowed. He didn’t like that. And I liked that he didn’t like that. “Kidding. We were talking about you and your talent for finance.”
“I am good at it,” he admitted, but it didn’t sound like bragging.
“Do you enjoy it?” I asked, wondering if he loved what he did as much as I loved what I did.
“I do. There’s something about working with numbers that I enjoy, seeing how they come together. When I come up with a way we can make the bar more profitable, I get as excited as Ryan does when he creates a new drink. Or when Nick thinks of some new marketing gimmick.”
Frank smiled at me, and it was so genuine that it made me smile in return. Seeing him happy made me happy.
“I love that so much,” I said. “We’re lucky, you know? You and me.”
“How so?” His eyes were so green, so fierce in the way they watched me, it was almost unnerving.
“We both love what we do for work. How many people can say that?”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
“Always am. And the sooner you learn that, the better,” I said, trying to sound tough, but failing.
“Typical woman,” he said, narrowing one eye at me.
“It’s not my fault that we’re the superior gender.” I didn’t want to smile when I said it, but I couldn’t stop grinning at Frank. He laughed, which only made me smile more.
“Did you always know you wanted to get into banking?”
I sat back into my chair. “I don’t think so. I did study business in college, but only because it seemed like a useful degree, not because I knew what I wanted to do with my life.” I stopped for a second to organize my thoughts. “That sounds crazy, but they make you choose a major, and I had no idea at that point what I wanted to be when I grew up.”
“Most people don’t know. I was supposed to be a baseball player.”
His confession shocked me at first. But Frank had the build and natural grace of an athlete, and I wondered why I’d never put two and two together before.
“What happened?”
He pointed to his shoulder. “I got injured.”
“I’m sorry.” I twined my fingers in my lap, stifling the urge to reach for his hand.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Still, it had to be hard.” Even though Frank was running one of the most successful bars in the area, a loss like that had to sting. “What position did you play?”
“Catcher,” he said, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
“Were you good enough to go pro?” I asked, not knowing much about baseball. It bored me, to be honest, and if I watched sports at all, I preferred soccer.
He smirked at me, and I found myself caught up with him all over again. Frank was a truly sexy man.
“I was.”
“Then I really am sorry. Not that I wasn’t sorry before, but now I’m even more sorry. That really had to suck.” I felt bad for him, assuming that he would always wonder about what could have been.
“It got pretty dark there for a while,” he admitted, swallowing hard.
I could tell that he wanted to change the topic, so I obliged him. “I think it all worked out. The bar is amazing. You get to work with your brothers and, like you said,” I flashed him a smile, “you love what you do.”
“You’re right. Again.” He winked at me, making my insides flutter.
“Speaking of . . .” I looked around and noticed the handful of people in the bar. “Do you need to get back to work?”
Following my lead, he glanced around. “I probably should.”
I wanted to be disappointed, but told myself not to be. This was his job. “I understand.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Frank stood up, and I took one last sip of my soda before grabbing my purse. He placed his palm on the small of my back, instantly warming me. As we walked past Ryan, Frank told him he’d be right back.
Ryan grinned. “Night, Claudia.”
“Night, Ryan.” I smiled, knowing I was blushing as a few people turned to watch us leave.
We headed out into the cool coa
stal night, and I stopped and turned to Frank.
“I’m parked right around the corner. You really don’t have to walk me,” I said, trying to give him an out, but hoping he wouldn’t take it.
“I’m walking you to your car, Claudia. It’s late.”
I liked this chivalrous side of Frank. It was just one more thing about him that I found attractive.
“Well, thank you. It’s right there.” I headed for the dark blue Jetta parked at the curb and he walked with me, apparently intending to walk me all the way to the door. I pulled out my keys and clicked the button to unlock the car.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” he said as he pulled open my door for me, keeping an eye on oncoming traffic. “I had a really good time.”
My cheeks warmed with yet another blush, and I looked away from his green eyes for a moment before meeting them again. “Thanks for the invite.”
The street suddenly felt too small, closing in around us.
Is he going to kiss me? God, I really want him to kiss me.
Frank wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. We fell into each other easily, our bodies fitting together in puzzle-like perfection. It was as if my body was made for his, the way it molded to him.
When he slowly pulled away, my mind raced with the thoughts of would he or wouldn’t he. Would his lips be soft? How would he taste? Frank looked like a man who could really own a kiss and, God, how I wanted to be owned by him.
Looking down at me, he reached for my chin and tilted my face up. This was it. He was going to press those gorgeous lips to mine. I held my breath in anticipation and waited for him to make the next move. Frank was completely in control, and for once in my life, I was perfectly fine letting him have it. He squeezed my chin before dipping his head toward my face.
“I’ll talk to you later. Drive safe.” Then he placed a soft kiss on my cheek.
My heart pounded as confusion overtook me. I forced a smile and tried to hide my disappointment. “Okay. Good night.”
“Night, Claudia.”
I lingered a moment longer, willing him to change his mind about the kiss, but he stepped away and I gave up, reluctantly getting into my car. As I pulled away, Frank stood on the curb, one hand in the air and the other tucked in his front pocket. I gave him a small wave as I drove away.
What the hell had just happened? Had I imagined the connection between us? Did I do something wrong, say something offensive?
My mind spun, going over our evening together, but nothing popped out. Frank Fisher was an enigma, and I had no clue how to figure him out.
Crossing Lines
Frank
Claudia drove away, and I knew she was confused. She had expected me to kiss her. Hell, even I hadn’t known if I was going to or not until we were in the moment and it was happening.
At the last second, I’d gathered my wits and kissed her cheek instead of her gorgeous fucking lips, fighting against my wants and needs the entire time. Every step outside the bar with her was another step into a moral minefield, where mentally I knew I was doing the wrong thing, but emotionally I couldn’t find the strength to stop it.
I wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to take her into my arms and feel her tongue on mine.
I daydreamed about what her beautiful mouth would taste like. And I knew it was wrong.
This entire situation was a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode. There was no way around that. Wrong and right existed in this world, and I was currently on the wrong side of things.
The only questions left were: How badly did I want to make things right? And more importantly, could I?
Walking back into the bar, I braced myself for Ryan. I figured he’d launch in on me the second I came through the front door, but he only gave me a questioning look before stacking some clean glasses. His silence unnerved me more than his blabbering ever could.
Sidling up next to him, I said, “You aren’t even going to ask what happened?”
“You’ll tell me later. After we close.” He gave me a curt nod, and I was thankful for his discretion.
I washed the few glasses left in the sink as Ryan chatted up the handful of customers in the bar. When I finished, I fished my cell phone out of my pocket and fired off a quick text to Claudia, then stared at the screen, waiting for a response.
Frank: You get home safe?
Claudia: Yep. Thanks again for a nice night.
When her response came right away, I tried to decipher it.
What did yep mean, exactly? Was she pissed? Was she being sarcastic? Had she really had a nice night, or was she mad that I hadn’t kissed her like any normal man would have?
She didn’t know my situation, and if she did, she’d never speak to me again. That wasn’t something I was willing to risk. Not while I felt the way I was feeling about her. Not while I was blatantly aware that there was some crazy connection between us that you didn’t find every day.
Shaking my head, I told myself to stop wallowing in my emotions like Ryan, a fucking chick.
I refilled a guy’s beer and made a Guy Hater for another as I tried to clear my damn head. It was no use. Nothing I did worked, because no resolution I came up with felt right.
In order to make myself happy, I had to hurt Shelby, and she didn’t deserve it. But she also didn’t deserve the way I was disrespecting her and our relationship. Guilt was quickly becoming my best friend, my closest acquaintance, my partner in crime.
After closing and locking the bar doors behind our last customers, I headed toward the tables to clear them off and wipe them down while Ryan worked on the rest of the remaining glassware and the bar. He eyed my every move, and I waited patiently for the inquisition to start. I knew he was dying to give me his input, or at least say something. But for whatever reason, he was holding back, maybe waiting for me.
“Just say it already,” I yelled from across the bar.
Dishes clanked, and Ryan tossed a towel over his shoulder. “How are you?”
How was I? I stopped wiping the table, tossed the towel on its wood top, and shrugged.
“How am I? Fine, I guess. How are you?” I said in my best smart-ass tone.
He rolled his eyes and groaned out loud. “I’m fine. But I’m not the one inviting girls over to the bar while my girlfriend sits at home waiting for me to get there.” When my hands fisted and I looked down to see them clenched, my knuckles white, he said, “Sorry, bro, I’m not trying to piss you off.”
“Could have fooled me,” I said, slowly unfurling my fingers.
“So, how was Claudia? Is she still cool?”
My eyes met his from across the bar as I steadied my breathing, thinking back to the night I’d just shared with her, getting to know her better. “She’s great. Really great.”
“I figured. She’s really into you.”
My heartbeat sped up with his words. “How do you know?”
“I’m a bartender, which makes me an expert at reading body language. She likes you a lot. You like her too, but you already know that.”
Reaching for the discarded towel, I finished wiping down the table and moved on to the next. Of course I liked her. And I wasn’t an idiot. I knew she liked me too; I just enjoyed hearing it from someone else.
Ryan called my name. “Did you kiss her?”
“No,” I said a little too quickly.
“Did you want to?”
“Fuck yeah, I wanted to.”
Ryan let out a small laugh. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
God, I was so sick of those three fucking words—sick of feeling them, of saying them, of not having answers to fix the crazy-ass mess I’d gotten myself into.
“I’ve never been in this kind of situation before.” God, what a coward I was. I hated the way it made me feel, the way it forced me to see myself.
“Just be careful,” he warned as I finished wiping the last table.
I headed to the register. As I closed it
out and printed the night’s totals, I asked, “What would you do? Realistically, if you were me. How would you handle this?” I was desperate for some thoughtful feedback, needing something that would resonate with me, something that might help.
Ryan put away the last clean glass and turned his attention to the liquor bottles. He rearranged them, putting them back in their proper order and facing them the same way, cleaning the pourers as he went along. He didn’t say anything as he worked, which told me he was giving my question serious thought. It made me feel less inept that the answer wasn’t something simple.
He stopped and turned to face me, nodding as if he was having a silent conversation with himself. I clipped the receipts together and put them down, hoping some pearl of wisdom would fall from Cinderella’s lips.
“I know you’re in a bad position,” he said slowly. “Or, at least, you feel like you’re in a bad position. You feel like you have no real say in the matter, but the matter we’re discussing is your life, Frank. So, in essence, you feel like you have no choice when it comes to your own life anymore.”
I cleared my throat, determined to argue because my natural reaction was to get defensive and stand up for myself whenever someone challenged me, but Ryan saw it coming from a mile away and tossed his hand in the air to stop me.
“Just hear me out. Somewhere along the line, and we can probably narrow it down to Shelby’s dad passing away and the promise you made to him, you stopped being the driver of your life. In that moment, you became the passenger, and I get it. Trust me, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I know you feel guilty. I know you feel obligated. But it’s not right. Hell, you were just a kid. You had no right making a promise like that to anyone. And to be honest, he had no right asking you to make it.”
Those last two sentences stabbed me in the gut, and my stomach twisted painfully.
Fuck. I’d never thought of it so bluntly before, but Ryan was right. I had no business agreeing to that kind of thing, but it had seemed so right at the time.
Before I could roll that thought around further, Ryan said, “I know that none of this makes it any easier. I can only imagine that trying to end a relationship that you’ve been in for years isn’t simple, or you would’ve already done it. Leaving is the right thing to do, the hard thing to do. It’s easier to stay, even if you’re miserable. But, what if there’s something real between you and Claudia, and you miss out on it?”