Page 14 of Wanted

Frankie’s shoulders rise toward her ears.

“I’ll be over here.” I shuffle to the chair next to the door and drop heavily onto my ass.

Every few seconds, my eyes find their way back to the two women conversing at the counter. I cross my arms over my chest and drop my gaze to the floor. I trace the edge of a long black floor mat until I find my attention back on Frankie’s skirt.

Shifting my legs into a widened stance, I plant my feet more firmly. An itch on the edge of my eyebrow commands my attention until I scratch it with the edge of my thumb. This restless energy has nowhere to go, and I’m about to get up and walk out the door back to my van when Whitney calls my name.

Fucking finally.

Heaviness weighs down each step as I return to the front desk. Frankie disappears behind the curtain of the third room to my right.

“What’s up?”

A conspiratorial gleam twinkles in her eye. “Who is she?”

I run my hand over my beard. “That’s what you wanted to ask me?”

A lock of blond hair falls in front of her eye with her nod.

“I know about as much as you do.”

“Seriously?”

“I respect the shit out of you, Whitney, and I know Jack loves the hell out of you, but I’m not one of your gossiping girlfriends.”

“I’m not looking for gossip. I just want to know how you’re wrapped up in all of this.”

“You and me both,” I grunt, softening my tone a smidge.

She frowns. “Where did you find her?”

“She was at the Sanctuary.”

“Like that? My goodness.” Whitney stares in the direction of Frankie’s room as if she can see her through the curtain. “Does she need anything?”

“How would I know?” I drum my fingers against the counter.

“Was the drive here silent?” she teases. The smile melts off her face at my expression. She clucks her tongue at me. “Oh, Jude.”

“She wouldn’t answer my questions. Maybe you’ll get your answers directly from the source.”

“I don’t want to intrude. I just thought if she told you, the girls and I could round up some toiletries and a change of clothes.” Whitney leans forward and drops her voice. “She’s in a wedding dress.”

“I know,” I rasp angrily beneath my breath.

She sits back with a sigh. “Poor thing.”

I don’t think Frankie’s feisty attitude deserves any pity. In fact, I have a feeling it would only piss her off. The thought attracts a reluctant smile, but I lock it down.

The whoosh of the doors sliding open ends our conversation. I step to the side to give room to an apprehensive man pushing his very pregnant partner in a wheelchair to the front. He parks her and drops to a knee beside her. A knot of an unfamiliar emotion unfurls in my stomach as he tenderly kisses her knuckles.

“You’re doing great, baby.” He pushes the hair from her forehead. “I’ll check you in, and then I’m going to move the car, okay? I’ll be right back, and then we can meet our daughter.”

The woman grips her round abdomen with a pained groan. “Please don’t leave me. Please. I feel like I’m going to have this baby right here, and I don’t want you to miss it.”

He smiles gently and tries to remove his hand from hers, but she won’t let go. “You aren’t going to have her right here.”

“I—arg! Yes, I am!” Her pained cry heightens the tension around us.

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