I got Winnie back to sleep pretty quickly and returned to my bedroom, leaving the door open in case she called out again. I undressed, brushed my teeth, and got into bed, where I lay awake with my eyes closed, hands behind my head.
But I felt weird about something, and I couldn’t relax.
She wanted kids. Of course she did. Look how awesome she was with mine, why wouldn’t she want her own? But it was out of the question for me. There was no way in hell I was having any more kids. Jesus fucking Christ, I’d go insane. Talk about sleepless nights—I’d have eye-rolling, rule-bucking teenagers on one end of the spectrum, dirty-diapered screaming infants and tantrum-throwing toddlers on the other, not to mention the kids needing attention in between. I couldn’t do it. There wasn’t enough of me to go around. Did I have to make sure she knew that that kind of future with me was not a possibility?
Or was that fucking stupid? Just because she wanted a family somewhere down the line didn’t mean she was thinking about a family with me, did it? She said she wasn’t in a rush. Christ, we’d only been fooling around for a couple weeks.
Flopping over onto my stomach, I shoved the pillow over my head and forced myself to stop thinking about it and go to sleep.
She came over Thursday to watch the girls, and I was late getting home because a meeting ran long. When I arrived, the house smelled delicious and they were all in the living room. Felicity and Winnie were sorting valentines on the couch, and Frannie and Millie were doing something on the living room floor with white T-shirts, glue, and glitter. I recognized one of the shirts as mine.
“Is that fucking glitter?” I demanded, watching in horror as Millie tossed handfuls of pink and red sparkly shit over glue lines on my shirt.
“Yes, but don’t worry. When we shake it off, there won’t be so much.”
At that, Frannie burst out laughing so hard she rocked onto her back and stayed there, cracking up.
“And what are you laughing at, huh?” I gave Frannie’s leg a nudge with my foot. “Maybe I will take you up on that offer to be in this show instead of me.”
“No way,” she said. “You made a promise.”
“That’s right.” Millie picked up the bottle of glue and gave me a smug look. “And it was your idea.”
“I need a beer,” I said.
“I made dinner for you,” Frannie said, getting to her feet. “It’s in the oven keeping warm.”
“Is that what smells so good? You didn’t have to do that.”
She smiled. “It’s just a casserole. Not a big deal.”
“It is. And I appreciate it. Have the girls eaten?”
“Yes, so I’ll get going. Bye, girls. Happy Valentine’s Day!”
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” they shouted.
Fuck, I’d forgotten. All day long I kept telling myself not to forget to stop and pick up a little something for her, but it had gotten hectic at work and then I was running late … God, I was shitty at this.
I followed her to the kitchen. Glancing behind me to make sure the girls weren’t watching, I tugged her into the back hall, opened the closet door, and pulled her in there with me. She giggled as I shut the door, closing us in pitch black dark.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice muffled by all the coats.
“I’m stealing thirty seconds alone with you for Valentine’s Day.” I wound my arms around her. “This is what it’s like to be my valentine. Isn’t it romantic?”
She giggled. “Totally.”
“I wish we had some time alone. And I should have gotten something for you. Flowers or chocolate or something.”
“I don’t want gifts, Mack. I just want you.”
“But I can’t even give you that. Not the way I want to, anyway.”
She put her hands on my chest. “Shut up and kiss me.”
I tried, but it was so dark in there I missed her lips the first time and ended up licking her chin. We were laughing and kissing when the door swung open and Winifred stood there staring at us.
“What are you doing in there?” she asked.
“I was … changing a lightbulb,” I blurted, reaching up and pulling the string hanging from the bare bulb. The light clicked on. “Oh good. It works now.”
“What was Frannie doing?” Winnie asked, eyeballing us both as we came out of the closet.
“I was helping,” Frannie said, grabbing her jacket off a hook and trying not to laugh.
“Can you help him make dessert?” Winnie wondered hopefully.
“No, she’s got things to do, Winn.” I grabbed my youngest and got her in a loving chokehold. “We’ll see her tomorrow.”
“Bye.” Frannie zipped up and opened the door. Her cheeks were scarlet and she couldn’t stop grinning. “See you tomorrow.”
The next morning, I still felt guilty that I hadn’t gotten her even a small gift for Valentine’s Day after she’d stayed late at the house and even made dinner. I could pay her more, and I would, but I also still wanted to do something nice for her. Could I bring something to work for her? Coffee? A muffin? A card? On a whim, I turned into the parking lot of a drugstore and ran inside.
In the greeting card aisle, I found the picked-over remains of the Valentine options. It was a fucking mess. Overwhelmed, I moved over to the I’m Sorry section and looked for one that might be appropriate.
There were cards with roses and fancy cursive apologies, cards with kittens and cutesy script, cards with illustrations and funny quotes and inspirational sayings and promises to do better. I read about a thousand of them, getting more agitated with each passing second. Part of me sort of felt like buying the whole rack—I’d probably need them all sooner or later.
In the end, I grabbed one with a drawing of a lollipop on it that said I SUCK. (SORRY.)
I paid for it and ran back to my car, where I quickly scribbled a note on the blank inside.
Sorry yesterday wasn’t more romantic. I’ll make it up to you.
Mack
I shoved it in the envelope, wrote Frannie on the front, and tucked it into my jacket.
My next stop was the florist, where I bought a dozen red roses. Back in the car, I tucked the card between the stems and drove to work. I realized that if anyone else was at the desk, it would probably be pretty fucking obvious what was going on, but I decided I didn’t care.
But she wasn’t at the desk when I got to the inn—her mother was. That’s when I remembered that she didn’t work there on Fridays.
“Well, good morning,” Daphne Sawyer said, smiling at me as I approached carrying the roses. “And who’s the lucky lady?”
My stomach lurched, but I told the truth. “Um, they’re for Frannie, actually. She’s been so great with the kids, and she stayed late and made dinner yesterday … I just wanted to let her know I appreciate her.”
The smile widened. “How nice. She’s not working this morning, but she’s at home as far as I know. Why don’t you bring them to her?”
“Maybe I will, thanks.” I went back to my office, glad that Daphne didn’t seem upset or even all that surprised by the fact that I’d bought flowers for her daughter. Maybe Frannie was right, and her parents weren’t going to be shocked or angry about us.
When I got back to my office, I texted her.
Morning, beautiful. What are you up to?
My elbows in batter LOL. I have a lot of baking to do. Busy weekend. Events booked all three nights.
That’s right, it’s Presidents Weekend.
Inn sold out?
Yes.
Which meant she was totally busy and probably didn’t have time to fuck around with me, but I was dying to give her the roses and grab at least a few minutes alone with her. I decided I’d sneak up there at lunchtime.
However, I only made it until about nine-thirty before I couldn’t wait any longer and stealthily crept up the stairs to her apartment, hiding the bouquet behind my back.
When she answered the door, she looked surprised but happy. And fucking adorable—her hair was all piled on the top of her head in a big sloppy mess and she had a smudge of pink batter on her cheek.
“Hey,” she said, her smile bright. “What are you doing up here?”
“I brought you something.” I held out the flowers.
She gasped. “What’s this for?”
“For Valentine’s Day. For everything you do.” Unable to resist, I caught her around the waist and kissed her lips. She tasted sweet—like strawberries and cream.
“You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.” She glanced down at her T-shirt and sweatpants. “I wish I’d have known you were coming. I’m a mess.”
“You’re perfect.” I looked at her hair. “But I do think even I could do a better bun than that.”
Laughing, she swatted me on the chest. “Now you’re just getting cocky.”
“Oh, I’ve always been that.”
“Want to come in?” she asked. “Or do you have to get back to work?”
“I should get back,” I said reluctantly.
“Just for a few minutes?” She rose up on tiptoe.
Fuck, she was so cute. “Okay. A few minutes, but that’s really all I have. I’m meeting with your dad and DeSantis in half an hour.”
“I promise to kick you out by then.” Grinning, she stepped back and I entered her apartment, which smelled as good as she tasted.
“Let me grab a vase for these.” She set the flowers on the counter and pulled out the card. As she read it, her lips curved into a smile. “Awww. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s not much, but I wanted you to know I was thinking of you. And how lucky I am to have you in my life.”
“I feel the same.”
“Your mom saw me with the flowers and asked who they were for.”
Frannie’s jaw dropped. “What did you tell her?”
“The truth, actually.” And suddenly, I felt really good about it.
“You did?” She set the card down and threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tight. “That makes me so happy!”
I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, lifting her right off her feet. “I’m glad.”
“Was my mother surprised?” Frannie asked.
“Not as much as I thought she would be. She seemed fine with it.”
“I told you.” Then she inhaled deeply. “Mmm. You smell good.”
“You smell good too. I could eat you right now.” Just for fun, I sank my teeth lightly into her throat.
Squealing, she tried to wiggle out of my arms, but I held on tight. I kept my mouth on her neck, licking and sucking and kissing her sweet-tasting skin, and then before I knew it, I was walking her backward into her bedroom, stripping off her clothes, and letting her pull at mine. Within minutes, I was buried inside her, her body pinned beneath mine on top of her quilt, her hands braced on the headboard so her head didn’t bang against it. It ended as quickly as it began, with both of us breathless and frantic, our bodies pulsing together in short, ecstatic bursts just as the oven timer went off in the kitchen.
Laughing as we recovered our senses, Frannie looked up at me. “Good timing.”
“Does that mean you have to get out of this bed?”
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“I’ll come right back.”
Reluctantly, I let her slide out from underneath me. She hurried into the bathroom first, and then out to the kitchen, and a moment later the timer stopped beeping. I heard her open and shut the oven door, and then she darted back into her bedroom.
“I only have a few minutes,” she said, hopping back into the bed. “And so do you. What time is your meeting?”
I sat up. “Fuck! I forgot about that. What time is it now?”
“A few minutes to ten.”
“Shit!” I jumped out of bed and looked around for my pants. “My meeting is at ten.”
Frannie laughed as I frantically pulled my clothes on. “Sorry. I guess I was supposed to boot you out sooner.”
I gave her a dirty look as I struggled to get my second leg into my pants, hopping on one foot. “Yes. This is all your fault. If you hadn’t smelled so good or been so fucking cute when you answered the door, I’d have been on time for my meeting.”
She threw a pillow at me.
I zipped up my pants and tackled her, throwing her back onto the bed. “You’re asking for it.”
Giggling, she looped her arms and legs around me. “Hard and often.”
I groaned, giving her a quick kiss before detaching myself from her limbs. “Fuck, I have to go. I wish I didn’t.”
“Me too.” She sighed and sat up, watching me throw my shirt on. “It’s so nice to be alone with you again.”
“I’m sorry. I feel bad we can’t be like normal people and do this during non-working hours.”
“It’s okay.” She smiled. “It’s kind of fun to sneak around.”
“Except I’m late for a meeting with your dad right now,” I said, frowning at my freshly-fucked hair in the mirror over her dresser. “And I look like I just got out of bed.”
A couple minutes later, I raced out of her apartment with my boots untied, leaving her at the door in a fuzzy pink robe. “I’ll see you at home tonight,” she called, laughing as I stumbled down the first few stairs. “Thanks again for the flowers!”
“You’re welcome!” I shouted back, skipping the final few steps and jumping down to the landing. As I hurried back to my office, her words stuck in my head. I’ll see you at home tonight.
I liked them.
