Tonight, she’d keep to safe topics. And if she let Cal stay, she’d keep it light. Fun and sexy.
“So I went to see Ramon’s mother this morning,” she said.
Cal paused, then nodded. The discussion about last night was over for now. “I should have gone with you.”
She’d wanted him there. Which was stupid. “You were probably at rehab. I wanted to get there early and catch Ramon.”
“No luck?”
“He didn’t show up. But Yolanda said she’d have him call Emma. And she agreed to go to rehab. Sort of. She wants to get clean, but she said rehab didn’t work.”
“I’ll do some checking. We’ll find a place where the patients are treated like people with a problem instead of junkies.”
Just when she wanted to write Cal off, he confounded her again. “That’s very perceptive.”
He shrugged. “Seems pretty obvious. I’ll find a place that will give her a chance to succeed.”
“She doesn’t have the money to pay for a program like that.”
“I’ll foot the bill,” he said impatiently, as if that was a minor detail that didn’t need to be discussed. “All she’ll have to worry about is getting better.”
“That’s generous,” Frankie said slowly.
He waved off the compliment. “I have money. She doesn’t.” He leaned forward. “Have you talked to Martha?”
“Not yet. When I phoned Annie, we decided it would be best to give her a few days to get used to the place. She’s settling in, but she won’t call her parents. She told Annie they threw her out when she told them she was pregnant.”
How could parents do that? Frankie wondered. She fought with her brothers, but when it counted, Nathan, Patrick and Marco were there for her.
Cal scowled. “They should have their asses kicked.”
“You’re big on ass-kicking, aren’t you?” she said lightly.
He shrugged. “It’s generally my first option.” His mouth quirked. “I should probably say I regret breaking that guy’s jaw, but I don’t. He deserved it. And I ended up at FreeZone.”
Cal was happy about doing a hundred hours of community service? Frankie had assumed he was a hotheaded, violent man when Sarah had told her he was coming to FreeZone. Shallow and utterly predictable. But he had depths she hadn’t imagined.
Depths she wanted to explore, in spite of the fact that he’d run away last night.
She knew Cal was a player, so she shouldn’t have been surprised that the words come meet my brothers terrified him.
She could hold a grudge and be pissy and pouty. Or she could be pragmatic and realistic. She could enjoy Cal while she had him and mourn him privately when he was gone.
He finally glanced at his watch. “I should go.”
“Is that what you want to do, Cal? Leave?”
He stilled. “Of course not.” Meeting her gaze with sudden intensity, he said, “I replayed last night in my head all day. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. But I figured you wouldn’t want me here.”
“I enjoyed last night, too.” She stood and reached for his hand. “I’ve been looking forward to repeating it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
FRANKIE’S LEGS GRIPPED his waist and her mouth fused to his as they moved together on her moonlit bed. He needed to feel her skin beneath his hands. He flipped her on top of him, then skimmed her back. Her sides. Her breasts.
Her muscles trembled and Cal slid his fingers down her sweat-slicked arms, searching for her hands. But instead of linking her fingers with his, she gripped his shoulders more tightly and arched her back. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she moaned into his mouth as she tensed.
She shuddered around him, and he followed her over the edge. They clung together, their breath sawing in and out, and she buried her face in his neck. She inhaled deeply, as if trying to absorb his scent, then pressed her mouth to the sensitive spot beneath his ear.
“Francesca,” he murmured, rolling onto his side, but keeping her close. Her hair tickled his nose, and he rubbed his face against the silky strands. The grapefruit scent of her shampoo filled his senses, and he searched for her mouth.
He fumbled for the sheet at the end of the bed and drew it around them. His eyes drifted closed as he aligned their bodies so he was touching her from chest to legs. Frankie’s trembling gradually stopped. Her muscles relaxed, and the hand she’d laid on his shoulder dropped away.
Floating between awareness and slumber, he felt her breathing slow and deepen. Cal wrapped his arms around her and let himself fall asleep.
In his dream, Frankie backed away as he reached out. She was gloriously naked, making no attempt to cover herself. “No touching,” she told him. “Look all you want, but you can’t touch.”
He lunged for her and the real Frankie jerked, startling him awake.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He’d tightened his arms around her, and he loosened them a little.
“Nothing.” She rolled onto her back, out of his embrace, and smiled up at him. Tracing the dimple in his right cheek, she said, “You should probably get going.”
He brushed her hair away to see her more clearly, but her face was hidden in shadows. “I thought I’d stay with you tonight.”
Her hand faltered, then she let him go and sat up. “I get up really early to go to work. The bakery is right below the apartment, and there’s lots of noise. Mixers. Dishes banging together. People yelling. You need your sleep. You can’t do rehab all tired out.”
He was a sound sleeper and doubted noise from downstairs would wake him up. But she had no way of knowing that; he hadn’t stayed with her last night.
She’d wanted him to, though. She hadn’t worried about the noise then.
Before he could argue, she slipped out of bed and drew a white T-shirt over her head. It fell to the middle of her thighs.
Beneath the shirt, her curves were outlined by the light shining through the window, and he wanted to taste them again. He reached for her, but she was too far away.
He sat up reluctantly, hoping she’d change her mind. When she didn’t, he threw on his clothes. She walked him to the door and kissed him, her mouth lingering on his. “See you tomorrow,” she whispered, pressing herself against him.
The next thing he knew, he was in the hall, staring at the dark, scratched oak of her closed door. He heard her footsteps recede as she headed back to bed.
How had he ended up out in the hall when he wanted to spend the night with her?
Frankie had maneuvered him out of her place in a move as slick as any he’d seen. And he would know, because he’d done the same thing to her yesterday. Tonight, she’d kissed him and sent him on his way while he was still intoxicated by her.
Damn it.
Their lovemaking tonight had been fun. Sexy. She’d nibbled on his ear, whispered naughty words, touched him until he’d been ready to explode.
The sex hadn’t been intimate, though. Not like yesterday.
He didn’t want the same soulless sex with Frankie that he’d always looked for in the past.
No, with Frankie, he craved the intimacy.
As he headed down Lake Shore Drive to his condo, clouds skidded across the moon, splattering light on the lake one moment, leaving it dark the next. He wanted to sweep away the clouds that had filled Frankie’s eyes tonight. He wanted the bright, open woman she’d been before.
He wanted Francesca.
The fundraiser he’d discussed with the Cougars’ president this morning would help. Cal would make sure FreeZone was stable, that it had the funds it needed to take care of the kids. And with the team involved, money would pour in. Hell, the silent auction alone, featuring signed jerseys, footballs and game tickets, would raise a ton of cash.
Frankie would realize that she was important to him. That he wanted to help her. Take care of her.
She would understand that he’d screwed up the night before, and that he was sorry.
AFTER CAL LEFT, Frankie hurried to the living-room window and pushed the blind aside. She saw him walking away from her building, hands in his pockets, staring straight ahead. She wondered if he’d turn around and try to convince her to let him stay, after all.
His stride never faltered. She pressed her cheek to the glass, trying to prolong her view, but he eventually disappeared.
She dropped onto the radiator cover and waited. After a few minutes, she heard the rumble of a car engine down the street. Instead of coming closer, it faded away.
Struggling to her feet, she straightened the blanket on the chair, picked up a book. She should go back to bed. The alarm went off early. Instead, she turned on the iPod connected to a set of speakers, and curled up on the couch. She didn’t want to be alone with herself right now.
Shame slid through her as the sound of Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” poured through Frankie’s living room. Her gut ached and her chest felt hollow. She and Cal might have had it all, too. He’d screwed up, but she hadn’t given him another chance.
Instead of feeling righteous because she’d made a statement, no-strings sex left her feeling vaguely ill. Like a user.
Not very nice.
She’d tried to protect her heart, but it was a lonely way to live. Cowardly.
A braver woman wouldn’t have held back with Cal. A braver woman would have let him stay when he’d asked. She would have followed her heart and given him everything.
Doug Bascombe slid into her head, smiling.
Of course he smiled. He knew what a coward she was.
The kind of coward who, to protect herself, sent a man away when she really wanted him to stay.
The kind of coward who was dragging her feet about outing a predator because she was scared.
It was time to stop being afraid and take action instead. She turned on her computer, found the name of an investigative reporter for the Herald and called the woman’s voice mail.
AS FRANKIE APPROACHED FreeZone the next day, she saw a figure in a hooded sweatshirt and baggy jeans standing at the door, peering inside. She hesitated when she saw the black-and-red shoes, the red belt. Viper colors.
Part of her brain told her to slow down. Be careful. But after a mostly sleepless night, she ignored it. She wasn’t going to let the gang hurt her center.
The youth turned when he heard her coming, and her stomach dropped to her toes. This was worse than a random banger looking to cause trouble.
“Ramon,” she said. The boy pulled the hood of his sweatshirt lower over his face. “What are you doing here?”
“My mama told me to come see you.” He tried to look confident, but tugged again on his hood as his gaze flicked nervously over their surroundings. “She said she’s going to rehab, so I have to keep my promise and get out of the Vipers. She said you’d help me.”
“Take this.” Frankie shoved the bakery box into his arms and unlocked the door. “Get inside,” she said. “Hurry.”
She turned on the lights, but didn’t open the blinds. Ramon crossed the room, heading for the deli case. He slid the box inside, then stood uncertainly, rubbing his hands down the sides of his jeans.
“It’s okay, Ramon,” she said, tossing her bag onto a table. “Now that you’re out of sight, you’re safe. Come sit down.”
He walked over slowly, favoring his left leg. “Are you mad ’cause I came?” he asked quietly.
“I’m not mad.” She was scared. “But you can’t stay. If the Vipers knew you were here, they’d—”
“I know,” he said, staring at his expensive sneakers. He rubbed a circle on the linoleum with his toe. “They’d do something bad to FreeZone.”
“Yes,” she said. “I can’t let that happen. But I’m not going to abandon you, either. We’ll figure out what to do.” She hesitated. “What happened with the Vipers?”
He pushed the hood off his head. “I told them I was through.”
Frankie sucked in a shocked breath at the bruises covering his face. “Oh, Ramon!”
“It ain’t nothing,” he said, hunching his shoulders. “Thought they could do a beat-down on me with three guys. I got away before the rest of them started.”
“Where else are you hurt?”
He brushed his fingers over his left side. “Coupla places. Not important.”
“Do you…do you need to see a doctor?”
“No doctors. They’d find out. Come after me and the doctor.”
Frankie slid her hands beneath her thighs to keep from reaching for the boy, who clearly didn’t want to be touched. He watched her with eyes far too old for his age.
Waiting for her to figure out what to do. To help him.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Haven’t had time.”
“What about the foster family you stayed with? Can you go back there?”
“Nope.” His knee jiggled. “Too close to Viper turf.”
Before she could answer, the front door rattled. Then someone knocked impatiently. Ramon jumped to his feet.
“I don’t think the Vipers would knock,” she said quickly. “But go into the back while I see who it is.”
He limped slowly toward the dark inner room. When he disappeared, Frankie cautiously parted the blinds on one window.
The painful tension in her muscles eased. Cal.
“Thank God,” she said as she unlocked the door and he stepped through. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
His cautious expression relaxed. “Me, too,” he said, reaching for her. “Frankie, I—”
“Shh.” She laid a hand over his mouth, shivering when he kissed her palm. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to lean against him briefly. Finally, she stepped away. “We’ll talk later. Ramon is in the back. He’s been beaten. We have to get him away from here.”
Her lover disappeared, replaced by a dangerous man. “How bad?”
“He won’t tell me. But he looks awful.”
“Let me talk to him. Maybe I can help.” Cal put his hands on her shoulders, rubbed them up and down her arms. “You look terrible.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said, trying to smile. “You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”
Instead of smiling back, he brushed her hair from her face. “I hate that I did that to you.”
“Cal, I…”
“You’re right. Not now.” He pressed a hard, quick kiss to her lips, then let her go. “Are you going to call Emma?”
“I’m going to start there.”
Cal grabbed her. “You’re not thinking about taking Ramon to your place.”
“I’m not an idiot.”
“Thank God.” He kissed her again and made his way toward the back.
She was an idiot for mooning over Cal. And stupid if she thought another kiss could make everything right. They had things to resolve. Ramon to deal with. This wasn’t the time or place.
As she watched him go, Frankie pulled her phone out of her pocket and pressed the speed dial for Emma. She held her breath until she heard her friend’s voice.
“Emma Sloane.”
Thank God. “Emma, it’s Frankie. We have a problem.”
THREE HOURS LATER, after Frankie locked the door behind the last stragglers, she hurried to help Cal clean up. She’d been tense all afternoon, afraid someone had seen Ramon at FreeZone. And that the Vipers would retaliate.
After Frankie’s quick conversation with Emma, Cal had driven Ramon to meet the social worker. She had a foster home on the f
ar northwest side of the city, she’d said. It was temporary, but Ramon could go there until she found a more permanent placement.
Frankie hadn’t taken a deep breath until Cal walked in an hour later and nodded at her. He slipped back into his role easily, familiar with their rhythm and routine.
He’d become a part of FreeZone. The kids relied on him. She relied on him. They would all miss him when he left.
She most of all.
But he was leaving. His life was a million miles away from this seedy, sometimes-dangerous neighborhood.
“You ready to go?” Cal called.
“Absolutely.” She grabbed her bag and pulled out her keys. He slung an arm over her shoulder.
“I was thinking Chinese,” he said. “Anyplace good around here?”
At his casual assumption that they’d be eating together, the tight band around her heart loosened slightly. Maybe she hadn’t completely screwed things up last night.
“Right around the corner from my place.”
“Let’s go. I’m starving.”
As soon as they were in her apartment, he dropped the paper bag of takeout on the table and gathered her close. She clung to him, savoring the steady beat of his heart against hers, the strength of his arms around her. The stresses of the day melted away.
“Frankie,” he murmured into her hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t go with you the other night. To help your brothers at the restaurant. I kicked myself all the way home.”
“It’s…” okay, she started to say. But it wasn’t. He’d hurt her with his eagerness to leave. And she’d retaliated last night.
“I wanted you to come,” she said into his shirt. “I didn’t want you to go like that.”
“I wanted to be with you,” he said quietly. “But I’ve never been a ‘meet the family’ kind of guy. It freaked me out.”
“They’re just brothers. No big deal.” She’d gripped his shirt in her fist. Relaxing her hand, she smoothed out the wrinkles. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
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