Page 117 of Craving Francesca

Gray

“Are you atthe garage?” Frankie asked curiously. “I’m waiting on Tommy, but I don’t see your bike.”

“No, I’m in town,” I replied, leaning against the wall behind an old bowling alley.

“This is menotwondering why,” she grumbled. We’d had the short and vague conversation about what I did for the club. She couldn’t hide that she was curious, but she’d also grown up with Myla and knew better than to ask.

There were things I’d never be able to tell her. She said as long as they didn’t affect our life together, she could live with that. It was my job to make damn sure that they didn’t.

“Is there a reason you’re callin’?” I asked, grinning at the ground.

“Am I meeting you at my house or the camper tonight?” she asked.

“Do you have a preference?”

“Well, it’s easier to get ready at my house.”

“Then I’ll meet you there.”

“Can we take the Tahoe? I’m wearing a dress.”

“You don’t have to dress up, baby.”

“I know, but I want to wear a dress. Can we drive the Tahoe? Because if not, I need to find something else to wear.”

“Tahoe’s fine.”

“Cool.”

A familiar shape rounded the counter.

“I gotta let you go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, love you, bye,” she said quickly, hanging up before I could say goodbye.

Telling her that there wasn’t any rush never worked. The woman was always in a hurry unless we were in bed.

“Jake,” I greeted as the off-duty cop came to a stop a few feet away.

“Gray.”

“Any news?”

“Not a peep,” he said with a sigh, putting his hands in his pockets. “It was a quiet summer, and it’s rolling into a quiet fall.”

“You hear anything about a task force?” I asked, watching his face for any change of expression. There was only surprise.

“What task force?”

“Don’t know, there’ve been some whispers.”

“I haven’t heard shit.”

“You do, you’ll let me know?”

“Of course.”

I straightened from the wall.

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