Page 86 of Final Serenade

“Do you think there are more photos?” I was nervous.

“I doubt it. Did you stay in the car when I went inside?”

I nodded.

“We’re fine.” He shifted to face me and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were bloodshot and tired. “We’ll just have to be more careful.”

The question was, how? Especially after this.

The rest of the drive was silent. We held hands again, but Frank had drifted off. His confusion and the weight of his stress drilled through my bones.

It was nearly dinnertime when the Escalade finally pulled up to the house. My back ached from the long ride. I was beat. Hannah had already returned and the faint smell of rosemary chicken floated through the house when we walked in. Roman carried our bags.

The sun was setting right above the steely surface of the shimmering ocean and I took a second to savor the view. I stood in front of the dining room glass wall and stared at the splash of yellow and orange bleeding into the grays and blues.

Behind me, Frank’s voice boomed through the living room. There was a short exchange with Roman, followed by a long phone call to Corey. He didn’t mention his mother once during that conversation. At least, not during the part I heard before moving to the bedroom.

I wasn’t sure Frank had accepted what happened in Arizona. His withdrawal seemed more like denial, not grief.

My phone buzzed.

Brother: did U C what I sent you??? Y’all gonna get caught.

Yes, I saw it.

Brother: can I borrow another 20? please pretty pleaseeeeeeeeeee

A silly grin stretched across my lips. Ashton was finally catching on. Words were a very powerful weapon and he’d figured out “borrow” sounded better than “give me.”

I’ll be there in a couple of hours.

Tossing my phone on the nightstand, I kicked off my shoes and peeked into the top drawer of my dresser. Yes, I had my own dresser at Frank’s house. I didn’t keep a lot of stuff here. Just some basic clothes, towels, cosmetics, and a toothbrush, but he’d made sure I had everything a woman who’d permanently moved into a man’s place would normally need.

However, I couldn’t call this arrangement a permanent move. Maybe constant migration. My life here was calm luxury. My life out there, in the city, was a wild race. And sometimes, especially lately, I felt as if I was falling behind. My gut told me I’d soon need to reevaluate my priorities, and my gut had never been wrong.

Approaching footsteps pounded in my head as Frank neared me. His broad chest against my back, he ran his hands along the curves of my shoulders while I fumbled through the modest contents of my drawer.

His lips pressed against my neck. My heartbeat leapt to my throat. I didn’t know why after so many not-so-innocent encounters that his every touch still made me come alive. He was a spark to my fuse. A detonator to my dynamite. The way our bodies reacted to each other reminded me of dirty magic.

Frank pulled his mouth away from my skin and stilled. Warm waves of his breath rolled across my neck and fell down the line of my spine.

Finally, he spoke, “I have something for you.”

My stomach fluttered. The timing was strange. The gesture was even stranger.

His right hand left my shoulder. I registered the rustle of his jacket and the subtle movements of his body, then I saw a long black velvet box on the dresser in front of me.

The air stuck somewhere between my lungs and my mouth.

“Open it,” Frank whispered in my ear, his fingers curled around the base of my neck.

I did as requested. My hands shook. Inside the box, lay a necklace. I was so taken aback by the sparkle of the diamond solitaire pendant, I didn’t notice the Tiffany & Co. logo at first.

“Do you like it?” Frank asked.

I nodded because I was at a loss for words. His lips touched the tip of my ear. “Would you like to try it on?”

“Yes,” I choked out and lifted my gaze to the mirror above the dresser, where our eyes connected.

---