Page 116 of Craving Francesca

“For all you know, I might be a terrible employee. What if I just completely fuck off and your jobs all get screwed up?” I dropped the pen on top of the stack of papers. “It’s not like you could fire me. Myla would kill you.”

Tommy set his beer down on the table. “I know where you live,” he replied dryly.

“Fuck around alittle,” Heather advised as she set a bowl of garlic bread on the table. “It keeps him on his toes. Now, come eat.”

Having dinner alone with Tommy and Heather wasn’t as strange as I’d anticipated. I’d never had them all to myself before, and it was kind of nice getting their full attention. They’d been like parents to me for over half my life. Heather was really the only mother I’d ever had. Between giving each other shit, Tommy and I discussed the jobs his company was currently working on, what exactly he’d need from me, and when to go to the sites to introduce myself and give everyone my contact information.

Neither of them asked about Gray, but as I was walking out of the house that night, Heather called out to give him a kiss from her.

I was so pumped as I drove back to Gray’s place, I was practically vibrating. It had been a long time since I’d been so excited about the future. Even before I’d hooked up with Scott, work had been something I had to get through in order to get to the fun parts of my life. Working for Tommy didn’t feel that way—I was excited to see what he was working on and find exactly the right supplies to get those jobs done. It gave me a creative outlet that I hadn’t anticipated.

When I stepped into the camper that night and found Gray lying on the bed reading, I burst into tears.

“No, I’m fine,” I hiccupped, waving him off as he jumped off the bed. I tossed my purse on the couch. “I’m just being a crybaby.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, a mixture of concern and amusement in his voice.

“That job’s gonna be fuckingawesome,” I griped, swiping at my face.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, it’s a good thing. I don’t know why I’m fucking crying!”

“Aw, come here,” he murmured, pulling me against his chest.

As soon as I’d finished with my emotional outburst, I told Gray all about the role I’d play at Tommy’s company. It took forever, as I waxed on and on about all the things I was looking forward to and how dinner had gone, but he never lost interest. He sat on the couch while I alternately sat beside him and paced the length of the trailer, listening intently the entire time.

“And then,” I practically gasped, I was talking so fast. “I said, ‘Tommy I thought you were going to match my pay.Andhesaid,they paid you shit. I’m not gonna pay one ofmykids shit.’”

I threw my hands in the air. “So, I guess I’m getting paid more, too.”

Gray smiled at me, his eyes soft.

“That’s why you were cryin’,” he said. “Because he called you one of his kids.”

“Shut up, it is not,” I shot back.

“They love you, Frankie.”

I swallowed hard. “So, I guess that makes me a nepo baby?”

Gray laughed. “Welcome to the club.”

I sniffled and laughed as I crawled onto his lap. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears on my cheeks. “So many soft bits.”

“Not that many,” I argued. To be honest, it felt like the longer I spent with Gray, the moresoft bitsI discovered.

“I like them,” he whispered into my mouth. “’Cause I’m the only one who gets to see ’em.”

“Lucky you,” I whispered back.

“Lucky me,” he agreed, rising to his feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to bed.

A couple years later, after a particularly loud argument—on my side, not his—when I was filled with remorse and feeling pretty terrible, he reminded me again of something I already knew to my bones. It was worth it, he said—the arguments and the bickering and the independence that I held on to by my fingernails—becausehewas the only one in the world who got to witness my soft bits.

Chapter 12

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