“There’s a reason they’re cheaper, Frankie.” Martha shook her head. “You think Cal is going to want to see you in a secondhand dress?”
“Who says I’m going out with Cal? I know lots of guys who would take me out for a fancy dinner.”
Martha rolled her eyes like a typical teen. “Duh, Frankie. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And you look back.”
She’d be more careful, Frankie vowed. She didn’t want the kids to figure out that she and Cal were…together. It would only bring up painful questions after he left.
“This store has a section for designer clothes,” she said. “It’s usually out of my price range. But I’m splurging today.”
“See, I knew it,” Martha said as she slammed the door. “You wouldn’t splurge unless you were going out with someone special. It’s Cal.”
An hour later, the pile of rejects was enormous. Martha shook her head at Frankie’s latest choice and pushed her into the dressing room. “The stuff you’re picking is totally lame. You stay here. I’ll find something.”
Under normal circumstances, Frankie would have argued. But Martha was having fun. Frankie had let the girl feel she was helping.
A few minutes later, Martha was back. “I found it,” she said with a huge smile. “This one.”
It was an electric-blue satin dress with a plunging neckline and a low back. And a short skirt. “That’s not exactly my style, Martha.”
“You will look amazing in this.” She thrust it toward Frankie. “Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t know.” Frankie studied the delicate, feminine dress that wasn’t even close to her style.
“Just try it,” the girl pleaded. “Give it a chance.”
“Fine.” Frankie closed the door and shimmied into the dress. It fell in soft waves down her body, clinging to her hips and stopping just above her knees. The V-neck accentuated her breasts, and the color…the color was gorgeous.
She walked out and Martha gasped. “It’s even better than I thought it would be,” she squealed. “Turn around.”
The skirt floated around her legs as Frankie did so, and when she faced Martha again, the girl was grinning. “I will personally kill you if you don’t buy that dress. It fits you perfectly and makes your eyes soooo blue.”
Frankie pulled her into the dressing room and wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulders. They both stared in the mirror, blond head taller than black one, Frankie’s frame skinny next to Martha with her swollen abdomen. Frankie fingered the dress as she watched herself and Martha in the mirror. The woman with the huge, bright blue eyes and the creamy skin wasn’t Frankie. It was Francesca. “You think so? Really?”
“Jeez! Didn’t your mother ever take you shopping?”
“No.” She let Martha go and smoothed the dress down her thighs. “She died when I was pretty young.”
“That sucks,” the girl said softly.
“Yeah.” Frankie struggled to smile, to make Martha comfortable again. “But now I have you to help me.”
“Cal will die when he sees you in that dress.”
Frankie adjusted the bodice. “I shouldn’t get it, then. I’d like him to live through this date.”
“Yeah,” Martha crowed. “I knew it was Cal. You have to buy it. That dress will kick his ass.”
“I guess this means I’ll have to buy shoes, too,” she replied. “Or do you think I can get away with my Doc Martens?”
Martha looked so horrified that Frankie hooted with laughter. “Gotcha.”
The girl crossed her arms over her baby bump. “Ha-ha. You’re so funny.”
“Let’s go pay, then have lunch,” Frankie said, still grinning.
The sandwich shop was noisy and crowded. Martha held her sandwich in one hand, using the other to gesture as she talked about living at Annie’s house and going to school in a program for pregnant girls.
As she took another bite, she rubbed her belly absently, then pressed on the left side. “Baby kicking?” Frankie asked casually.
Martha’s hand dropped away. “Yeah. It does that a lot lately.”
“It must be amazing to feel your baby moving.”
The girl raised one shoulder. “It’s weird.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do once the baby’s born?” Frankie held her breath. Martha refused to discuss her plans with anyone. Including the doctor.
She pushed the rest of her sandwich away. “I’m giving it up for adoption.”
“That’s a tough decision.”
“Not really.” Martha twisted a lock of hair around her finger and didn’t meet Frankie’s gaze. “I don’t want any reminders about the father.”
Oh, God. Frankie reached across the table and took her hand. “Honey, were you raped?”
“No. It wasn’t exactly rape.” She kept her head down.
Not exactly? “But it was ugly,” Frankie said gently.
Martha nodded, still staring at the bulge of her belly. “Yeah. Ugly.”
“Did someone coerce you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” the girl said. She slid out of the booth. “I should get back to Annie’s. She’ll wonder where I am.”
“Okay. But you can call me anytime if you want to talk. I know a good social worker, too.” Frankie pulled a business card out of her bag. “If you’d rather talk to a stranger, you can call Emma.”
Martha shoved the card into her pocket without looking at it. “Sure.”
Neither of them said much on the way back to Annie’s house. But as Martha got out of the car, she bent down and said, “Will you and Cal come to see me before you go on your date?” She smiled, and the sadness was gone from her eyes. “I don’t trust you to get everything right.”
“Hey! I know how to do girlie things.”
“You’re a girlie loser.” Martha leaned into the car and hugged her. “But you’re still pretty cool. Thanks, Frankie.”
The teen ran into the house, and Frankie waited until she was safely inside before driving away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AT THE SOUND OF THE DOORBELL, Frankie wiped her hands on the towel and took one last look in the mirror. Showtime.
She buzzed the lock downstairs, then stuck her head out into the hallway. Her heart raced as Cal climbed the stairs.
The tailored jacket of his suit clung to impossibly wide shoulders, and his dress pants broke perfectly over gleaming shoes. He wore the suit with the confidence of someone comfortable with his power.
She’d never seen Cal dressed up. Okay, maybe she’d seen an internet photo of him in a tuxedo. But never in person. Watching him come toward her in the dark suit, light blue dress shirt and striped tie took her breath away. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
“Wow,” she said as he got closer. “Wow.”
As he neared the top of the stairs, he said, “Martha warned me you were going to try to wear those boots of yours. Is that why you’re hiding behind the door?”
She stepped back to let him come in. This was just a date. With a man she already knew well. She wasn’t trying to impress him. But her hands were suddenly sweaty again.
“No boots, thank God,” he said as he glanced at her feet. Stared at the hideously uncomfortable, strappy black stilettos. “You buy those to drive me crazy?”
“I might have.”
A familiar gleam filled his eyes. Her heart raced and heat sizzled through her as his gaze crawled up her legs to her dress, then her face. Then dropped to her dress again.
“Oh, my God,” he finally said. “Frankie. Wow. Wow right back atcha.”
He reached for her hands and kissed one, then the other as he continued to stare. “I’ve chang
ed my mind. We’re not going anywhere but your bedroom. No way am I letting anyone see you looking like that.”
“You approve of the dress.”
“Oh, yeah.” He drew one finger down the deep V-neck, then smoothed both hands over her bare shoulders. “Approve doesn’t even come close.”
He lowered his head to kiss her, and she melted against him. But instead of pulling her close, he reluctantly eased away from her.
“We should, uh, get going. If I kiss you again, we’ll never make it to dinner.”
“That’s okay with me,” she murmured, running her hands down his lapels. “It’s just food. We can eat later.”
“I promised you a real date and that’s what you’re getting. Besides, you got those sexy shoes for me. That beautiful dress. I’m not going to waste them.”
“I don’t think they were wasted.” The memory of Cal’s response would warm her for a long time after he was gone.
“No.” He glanced at his watch. “We should get going. So we can hurry back.”
“Okay.” She gathered up her purse and keys. “But you know we don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah, we do.” He ran a palm over his hair. “I would get into so much trouble if I broke this reservation.”
“Really? Cal Stewart is afraid of a maître d’?”
“You don’t know who I’m dealing with,” he muttered.
“Okay, now I can’t wait to go.” She turned the dead bolt and dropped the key in her tiny purse. She headed for the stairs, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“You know I don’t just want to have sex with you, Frankie,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t you? I want to take you out. Show you off. Spend time with you.”
She gripped the thin chain of her purse until the links pressed into her palms. “I want to spend time with you, too, Cal.”
She wanted so much more than that. But fantasizing about happily-ever-after scenarios was a sure path to a broken heart.
He twined his fingers with hers as they descended the stairs from her apartment. He hesitated as they entered the alley. “I parked behind your car because there wasn’t anything on the street, and I didn’t want to make you walk. Maybe it wasn’t my best idea ever. I should have double-parked out front so you wouldn’t have to deal with the smelly alley.”
“It’s just an alley,” she said, tugging him along. “No big deal.”
Weeds grew up from cracks in the concrete, and garbage cans stood at attention down the length of the alley. Dumpsters lined the courtyard where she parked, and a rat scurried beneath one as they got closer. If she needed a visual reminder about the gulf between her life and Cal’s, this was it.
“I hate that you have to live in this dump.”
“I like my apartment. The rats are part of its ambience.”
His hand tightened on hers. “Do you have any idea how special you are?”
His gaze searched her face, and her heart began to pound. She went on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “You make me feel special, Cal.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “I’ve never known anyone like you.” He stared down at her, but she couldn’t read his expression. Finally, he kissed her, murmuring, “I’m crazy about you, Francesca.”
Wishing things could be different, that they could go from “crazy about you” to something more serious, Frankie let her lips cling to his for a moment. Then she drew away. “I like you a little bit, too, Caleb.”
Grinning, he wrapped an arm around her waist as they approached his car. “Let’s go see Martha. She gives me that complete adoration I don’t get from other people.”
“YOU TOTALLY ROCK, Frankie,” Martha said, fussing with the drape of the dress. “Told you so.” She turned to Cal. “What do you think?”
Cal kissed her hand. “You are a genius for finding that dress. Do me a solid? Go with Frankie every time she shops for clothes.”
Martha’s eyes lit up. “That would be awesome.”
“So, how do I look?” he said, lifting his palms. “Aren’t you going to tell me I rock, too?”
“You always rock, Cal,” Martha exclaimed, and her face turned bright red. “But you look sick in your suit.”
“Sick?” He turned to Frankie. “I was hoping for amazing. Maybe even stupendous.”
The girl collapsed into giggles, and Frankie laughed. “Time to move on, Cal. I don’t want all the praise to go to your head.”
Martha positioned them next to each other, insisting they wrap their arms around each other’s waist, then grabbed Annie’s camera to take a picture. Frankie loved that the girl was behaving like a typical teen rather than a frightened runaway.
When they said goodbye, she hugged Martha tightly. “I’ll save this dress for you,” Frankie whispered. “You can wear it for a special guy someday.”
Martha’s smile filled her face as she waved from the porch.
“She looks great,” Cal said as they drove away from Hope House. “Happier.”
“Of course she was happy.” Frankie smiled. “Her crush came to see her.”
“Poor kid. She should be mooning over some nerdy high-school boy.”
“She will eventually. But right how, you’re safe. She needs someone to tease her and treat her like a normal kid.” Frankie put her hand on his arm. “You’re good for her, Cal.”
His jaw clenched. “I’d like to be good for the guy who knocked her up. I could be real good for him.”
“That’s my Cal. Always with the ass-kicking.”
He glanced over at her. “I like that.”
“I know you do.”
“Not the ass-kicking part. The ‘that’s my Cal’ part.”
Frankie curled her fingers around her purse. “It was just an expression. That’s all. You know, the kind of thing you’d say to your dog. Or your friend.” Oh, God. She was babbling. She never babbled.
“Give it up, Frankie,” he said, his mouth twitching. “You are so busted.”
“Moving on. Where exactly are we going?”
He stopped at a light and smiled. “It’s a surprise.”
SIX HOURS LATER, Cal felt Frankie lean against him as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the Palmer House, waiting for the valet to bring his truck. She’d spent the evening charming the socks off everyone from his teammates to the movers and shakers of Chicago. She’d tucked a lot of checks into that tiny purse of hers.
He hoped she was sticking close because she needed to touch him. He suspected it was because she was too tired to keep herself upright. He dropped a kiss on her hair. He’d take her any way he could get her.
He froze. That wasn’t part of the plan. Training camp started in a few days, and he had to be there. His time with Frankie would be over.
So he’d make the most of this evening. Their last one together.
He peered down the street, relieved to see his truck approaching. He’d planned on taking Frankie to his condo tonight. He was looking forward to showing her his home, seeing her reaction. Making love with her on his king-size bed. Taking a shower together.
She would be the first woman he’d ever taken to his condo. He liked to go to the woman’s place. That way, he could escape.
But he didn’t need to worry about escaping Frankie. They both knew this was ending.
After they were on the road and he was maneuvering beneath the elevated tracks on Wabash, Cal cleared his throat. “I was hoping you might want to stay at my place tonight. Is that all right?”
She’d leaned down to take off her shoes, and smiled as she straightened. “I’d love to see where you live, Cal.” She wriggled her toes, and the bright red polish on her nails gleamed in the dim light. “Since you admired my shoes so muc
h, you can massage away the pain they caused.”
“I can do that.” He let out his breath. This was the Frankie he was used to—the one who joked and teased, who kept everything light. She would understand that this was his way of saying goodbye.
By the time he slid his key into the lock of his condo, though, his mind was racing. Would she think he was sending a signal by bringing her here? The “I’m serious about you” vibe?
Or would she understand that he appreciated all she’d done for him and was trying to thank her for giving him back his focus and his energy? For making him see how important family was.
He’d realized she was right. And the team was his family.
Frankie stepped through the door, then stopped dead. Her sexy shoes dangled from one hand as she stared out the living-room window. Lake Michigan was a dark, rippling presence. The lights from a few scattered boats twinkled on the black surface. The moon had risen now, too, a gold crescent reflected in the choppy water.
“What an amazing view,” she said softly.
“I hardly notice it anymore,” he said as he closed the door behind them.
“I could spend hours watching the lake.”
“It’s amazing,” he said, watching her. He’d wondered all evening what she was wearing beneath that dress.
It was driving him crazy.
She turned and slid her arms around his neck. “I think there was talk of a foot rub.”
He settled his hands on her waist, feeling her warmth beneath the sleek material, loving the way it slid over her skin. “Don’t you want the grand tour? There are great views from the other windows.”
She tilted her head up to look at him, but her face was in shadow. “I’ve already seen the view. Now I only want one thing, and I’m looking at him.”
God. He pulled her closer, gripping her tightly, as if she would vanish if he didn’t hold on. “Right back at you, Francesca.”
Cal stroked his hand over her back, lingering on the skin her dress revealed. She was silky smooth. Warm. And she trembled when he touched her.
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