“Excuse me, are you Luciano Navarro?” a light feminine voice interrupted. Luciano turned to see a voluptuous young woman, her eyes boldly appraising him. Behind her, a group of what appeared to be her friends stood in a giggling little group.
“Yes, I am.”
She took a deep breath, her breasts threatening to spill from her low-cut tank top. “I am your biggest fan,” she said, her guileless eyes wide in admiration as she brought her palm to rest on her amply displayed assets. “Can I get a picture with you?”
Luciano smiled at her. “You sure can.”
The bulls had fought hard, but Luciano had ridden harder to emerge as the champion of Barretos. All around him, his friends and family celebrated as the alcohol flowed and the music pulsed its rhythmic beat. In the crowd, he could see Joao coming in and out of focus as he shyly talked to Gabi, Senhor Eduardo close at hand as chaperone, catching up with acquaintances. Papai exuberantly twirled Mae about the dance floor, giddy in their son’s win and the reflected glory after hard years of toiling. The room tilted slightly, making Luciano grip his beer bottle tighter.
The only thing missing was Frankie. He had called her as soon as he had walked off the arena, the sand still clinging to his chaps, the roar of the crowd’s approval still ringing in his ears. Her sweet voice on the other end as she congratulated him had almost brought him to his knees, longing for her to share in this particular moment overwhelming him. Soon, he promised himself. Soon, she would always be by his side for moments like this, as he would be by hers.
Feeling the pressing desire to relieve his bladder, he staggered outside. A slight breeze whispered across his sweat-drenched face as he raised his hat to wipe his brow. He leaned one hand against the wall and closed his eyes in ecstasy as the pressure drained away. His need taken care of, he staggered back to the party.
Emerging from the shadows, the voluptuous fan from earlier appeared, phone in hand. She handed it to her friend still shrouded by the darkness. “Make sure you get everything,” she commanded before stalking after her prey.
Chapter 17
Dread’s icy fingers trailed over Frankie, leaving spasms of wretchedness in its wake. As the blood drained from her extremities, it left behind a curious sense of numbness, an inability to release her hold. A hold that still gripped the phone tightly. A phone she now felt helpless to look away from.
Three images had shown up on her media feed, Luciano having been tagged with the caption My champion. The first had been innocuous enough. A voluptuous, what appeared to be Brazilian girl cozying up to Luc for a fan photo, the sun shining brightly behind them. The next was less innocent. It appeared to have been taken at night and showed the same girl, but this time, her tight top was pulled dangerously low and her head was tipped back in laughter as she caressed a drunkenly smiling Luciano’s arm. But it was the final one that shattered Frankie’s heart into a million pieces. The same girl now leaned in, smiling coyly as Luciano whispered into her ear.
Megan breezed into the feed room, barely visible over the buckets that were piled high in the wheelbarrow she pushed. “I wonder if Gabi is getting sick of all of her family asking when she is going to meet a nice boy.” Megan laughed. She was probably imagining Gabi stuck for an extra week with her extended Brazilian family. Blind to the emotional turmoil that still held Frankie fast, she blithely ploughed on. “At least Luc was smart enough to go, get the job done, and come home. It’s today he comes home, isn’t it? You must be excited.” When no response came, she peered curiously around at Frankie. Observing her chalky complexion, concern creased her face. “Are you okay, Frankie?”
A mute Frankie robotically held the phone out to her friend. Megan glanced down, her brows furrowing together as she perused the images before looking at Frankie in horrified surprise, her mouth agape.
“What the heck, Frankie?” she exclaimed. “Who the heck is that skank?”
Frankie shook her head miserably and shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Strewth, what the heck happened in Brazil?” Megan’s eyes were still wide in disbelief.
“I think that’s pretty obvious.”
Megan looked down at the phone again. “Um, maybe you need to speak to Luciano and find out what’s going on,” she suggested.
“No. I should have known it was just a game to someone like him.” The anguish welled up inside her, catching the words in her throat.
Megan looked at her friend in despair, and Frankie hunched over, swallowing back a sob. Megan took her in her arms, holding her tight as Frankie’s body shuddered with the force of her tears. “Gosh dang men,” Megan said as though filled with an icy blast of incandescent rage. “Give me horses any day. If they jump the fence too often, at least it’s legal to geld them!”
The hard bite of wood as the stall door hit her side made Frankie cry out in pain. She winced, gingerly touching her ribs, and she bit down, determined not to allow the tears that threatened to flow. It felt like that was all she had done in the hours since she had seen the images of Luciano’s betrayal, now seared into her mind as surely as if he had held the branding iron himself.
To her fevered imagination, it was as if she had somehow magically conjured him up. Echoing footsteps announced his presence long before his rugged profile materialized from the outside darkness. Frankie’s heart pounded in her chest as his familiar swaggering stride brought him closer, the crunch of the gravel embedded in the soles of his boots unnaturally loud in the otherwise deathly silence.
She once again saw him whispering into the girl’s ear in her mind’s eye. Frankie bit down hard on her lip, the sharp metallic taste of blood a welcome distraction from the torturous burden of anguish she carried inside. Watching his approach, she hugged herself, gripping her elbows tightly.
“He has some nerve coming here.” Deb mutinously glared as she and Megan stepped from neighboring stalls to stand protectively beside Frankie, watching his approach.
It was all still too raw for Frankie, her heart still fractured, once again on the brink of tears. Then, he smiled that dang smile of his, and she felt something snap inside her. The 180-degree change in emotion was momentarily disorientating.
The white-hot burn of anger filled her as she turned, nostrils flared, to her friends. “It’s okay, you guys can go. There are some things I want to say to him.”
Megan shoved her hands in her pockets as she looked doubtfully at Deb. Deb opened her mouth as if to protest before closing it and giving a sharp nod.
“Just remember, if you need us, give a yell, and we will give him what for,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming at the prospect of giving the lothario a piece of her mind. Frankie nodded back with a sad little smile.
“Good evening, ladies.” Luciano, the very embodiment of male confidence, sauntered closer. Both girls shot him daggers before turning on their heels and heading for the feed room. Luciano scratched his chin, confusion easily read on his face. “Was it something I said? But no mind, I have missed you, Querida.” He reached to embrace Frankie.
She recoiled back, pressing herself against the rough timber stall wall. “Don’t touch me,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “And don’t you dare call me Querida.”
Luciano’s face crumpled in hurt bafflement. “What is going on, Frankie?”
The final strand of her nerves snapped, unraveling her control even as she fought to stitch it back in place. “Really?” hissed Frankie. “Really? That’s how you wanna play this?” Disgust made her wrinkle her nose as she angrily dug in her pocket for her phone. Her movements sharp, she brought the images up before she thrust it into Luciano’s hand. “You don’t get to do that after this.”
He lowered his head, peering at the screen. He jerked back in astonishment and leveled a look back at her. “What are these?”
“Are you for real right now? Did you really think that chick wouldn’t post those all over the internet? Look, if you were tired of me, you should have been a man and had the decency to break up wi
th me. I deserved that respect at least.”
“I don’t want to break up with you,” he refuted sharply. “I don’t know what these photos are.”
“Give me more credit than that,” snarled Frankie. “Maybe you didn’t want to break up with me, but that didn’t stop you from going back home and having some fun chasing tail while you were there.”
Frankie’s steely armor of resolve weakened at the hurt look Luciano leveled at her. “Frankie, I am famous there. Women, they throw themselves at me and before, I’d take my pick of them all.” Frankie’s face crumpled at the words he threw at her. He leaned in closer until his face was level with hers. “But that was before you. This first photo”—he stabbed his finger at the screen for emphasis—“I took. You can see my papai in the background. I remember her asking to take it. The last two were after I won, I think.” His brow was furrowed, like he was searching his memories. “I was celebrating. And yes, I drank too much, and there were lots of people there. I don’t remember her. I know I woke up in my own bed, alone. How quickly your feelings have turned to hate for me. Did you even fight it? Or was it easier to just give in and think that I am a man that would do that? I have done nothing wrong. If you really knew me like I thought you did, Frankie, you wouldn’t doubt it.”
He gave her one last lingering look, his face a hostile mask of rage and hurt. But worse were his eyes, those beautiful, laughing eyes now a well of betrayal and pain. He turned and, without looking back, walked away.
“Goodbye, Frankie.”
Chapter 18
“Okay, what have I missed?” Gabi perched on the kitchen counter, coffee mug in hand. She had arrived home in the early hours of the morning and only now emerged from her room in the late afternoon. She smiled impishly. “Bet you gave Luciano a champion’s welcome when he got home?”
Bedlam greeted her innocent question with Deb frantically giving her a cutting-off gesture, slashing her fingers near her throat. Simultaneously, Megan choked on her sip of coffee, spluttering furiously for air. Deb stopped her wild gesturing to thump her friend on her back, all the while shooting concerned looks at Frankie who had remained strangely composed through the ordeal, staring blankly into her coffee mug.
Gabi looked wide-eyed at the madhouse she suddenly found herself in. “Ah,” she began hesitantly. “I feel like maybe I need to proceed with caution, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”
Megan and Deb darted an apprehensive look between them.
Frankie sighed dejectedly. “It’s all right, guys. I won’t shatter from telling her what happened.”
Gabi’s brow wrinkled in alarm. “Guys, what the heck happened?”
“We broke up.”
“What? Why?” Surprise shot across Gabi’s face, her hand flying to her chest in alarm.
“Just show her the photos,” Frankie softly commanded, not raising her eyes from her drink.
Deb grabbed her phone from the counter and tapped at it quickly. Gabi curiously peered down at the screen. “I think these look a lot worse than they are,” she began tentatively, swirling her coffee. “I think they could be … misinterpreted.”
“How could him being all over her be misinterpreted?” cried Frankie in disbelief at her friend’s betrayal.
Gabi glanced down at her now cold cup of coffee. “I think maybe this all needs to be explained over a drink.”
The smoke added to the already gloomy interior of The Wonky Cowboy, gathering fog like beneath the dim lights. The steady hum of humanity trying to compete with the jukebox made any semblance of a conversation an exercise in futility. The bar was packed to the rafters, the perfect combination of it being Friday night and the influx of spectators and competitors for the local rodeo. Everyone there looked just a little too happy, Frankie thought sourly as she waited to grab a drink at the bar.
“Hi, gorgeous,” drawled the blond guy waiting beside her as he looked her up and down appreciatively.
“Oh, hi,” she said absently, leaning forward to tell her order to the barman.
“Are you from around here?” he asked, clearly not getting the hint.
“What, um, yeah?”
“I’m here for the rodeo. Bronc rider. Maybe I can get you in for free or something.”
“I think I can manage.” She grabbed her drinks. As she brushed past him, his hand took a swipe at her arse causing her to stiffen. “Mate, tonight is not the night to mess with me,” she threatened before making her way over to her friends.
“Who was that?” Deb peered across the crowd to where the bronc-riding arse-grabber was still propping himself up by the bar. “He’s kinda cute.”
“And handsy,” Frankie sourly noted as she handed the drinks out.
“Frankie, we need to get this Luciano stuff all straightened out,” began Gabi. “I was there, I’m sure from a different angle I could be in those pics in the background.”
“I don’t really want to think about this anymore. I’m done crying. I’m tired of feeling confused about how he feels—felt. Gosh, I’m not even sure if he felt the same way I did. How do I know what I was feeling was even real? I’m sick of feeling like my head is all over the place.” Frankie laughed a little too loudly. “I just have little experience with guys, and whenever I think maybe I know what to expect, it turns out I know nothing at all.”
Gabi captured the other girl’s wrists. “You need to listen to me. Nothing. Happened.” She enunciated the words. “I don’t care what those picture show. Whenever anyone went near Luciano that night, all he could talk about was his beautiful Australian Querida. To be honest, it started out cute but was getting annoying by the end of the night.”
“Then why is this chick all over him?” Frankie blurted, the words explosively flying from her mouth propelled by her hurt.
“Frankie, understand that, back in Brazil, he is very famous. Women will always throw themselves at him. Maybe he could have handled it better, but he was very drunk and still all he could think about was you.”
Doubt began to worm itself past Frankie’s determined armor. She bit her lip uncertainly. “I don’t know. I’m so confused.”
“Frankie, there is nothing to be confused about. He loves you. He gave you Sampson for gosh sake. When a cowboy gives his heart, he gives it all. You need to trust him. I saw him leave with my own eyes with his papai and mae. Alone.” She said firmly, her eyes drilling ruthlessly into Frankie’s.
Frankie’s eyes darkened with doubt, her expression troubled. “Maybe I was wrong.” Uncertainty shaded her words.
Gabi gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. “I think you are, honey. For what it’s worth, he loves you, so he will probably forgive you.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll figure out what to do then. But I think when he calms down, you guys will be able to work it out.”
Frankie’s mind reeled with her friend’s revelations. “I think I need some fresh air.”
The fresh night air was a welcome relief after the cancer-inducing atmosphere of the bar. Frankie breathed in deeply, the ramification of Gabi’s words hitting her like a sledgehammer.
“What have I done?” she whispered miserably.
“What was that, darlin’?” a slightly familiar voice asked, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
Oh, great, she thought. The arse-grabber from the bar had followed her out. She shrugged his arm off, stepping away from him in revulsion. “Mate, you need to stop with all the touching.”
“I just thought we could become a little friendlier.” He stepped into her space again. Frankie’s scalp prickled at his nearness, unease trickling up her spine.
“Mate, back off,” she commanded, her eyes narrowing in warning.
“I like them a little feisty.” He leered at her, leaving her skin crawling at his closeness.
“You need to listen to her,” a sweetly familiar voice growled from behind. Frankie’s muscles went weak as relief coursed through her. Luciano’s hand was firm on
her shoulder as he possessively pulled her close. “She is already taken. But if you were a true cowboy, you would respect her saying no, regardless.”
“Whatever,” her assailant muttered. “There’s plenty of other tail in the bar anyway.”
Frankie watched in delight as he walked away, conscious of the tension radiating from Luciano as he followed the other man with his eyes. “Um, thank you, Luc. I guess I was lucky you came along. But I was dealing with it,” she said, awkwardly defensive, self-conscious now the threat had passed.
He made no move to release his hold on her. He lowered his head to her hair for a moment to breathe in deeply. “No matter how angry I am with you, Querida, I will always protect you.” She felt his lips smile. “I am sure he does not know how lucky he was that I didn’t leave you to deal with him.”
He released his hold on her and moved back a pace, his expression guarded once again. Frankie felt suddenly bereft at the loss of his warm closeness, unsure of how to return things to how they were. Raucous laughter broke the tension as a drunkenly, amorous couple staggered out from the bar.
Sharp clarity transcended over Frankie. Regardless of what she thought she had seen, she should never have doubted him. Deep down, she knew she could trust him. She felt sick with remorse at the havoc she had wreaked on her relationship with this steadfast cowboy. She could only pray now that she could somehow mend the damage.
“Luc, I think I was wrong about. You know, the photos,” she fumbled over her words.
An odd shadow flickered through his eyes. “Frankie, you needed to trust me,” he said shortly.
A cold ball of despair built in Frankie’s belly. “I know. And I’m sorry.” Her voice caught, thick with tears. “I just have some insecurities, I guess, about if someone wants to be with me.” She swallowed down her sorrow. “That shouldn’t be an excuse, but I’m trying to explain why I reacted the way I did.”
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