Page 5 of Staying Home with Dad's Best Friend
“Oh, she’s all right. We’ve been neighbors for many years.”
I have no idea what it means.
Although I am disappointed that we can’t have barbeque ribs, I’m also flattered that Frank wishes to cook for me.
Frank makes seafood spaghetti using shrimp, scallop, and tomato sauce. He also makes a Greek salad.
His kitchen is huge, and the stove is on the island in the middle. I stand next to him, watching him cook. I’ve always thought cooking made a man unmanly because my dad seldom cooks, but I’m not sure that’s true anymore. Frank looks very sexy in an apron. His biceps ripple when he chops and dices the onion. When he dips a finger into the pot, and then sucks it, I nearly gasp.
“Let me help you stir the sauce,” I say as I reach for the ladle, eager to offer help.
“Sure,” he says and passes it to me.
His arm brushes against my boob by accident as I take over the ladle, and I gasp. His eyes darken right away, making me tremble. Jeez. I didn’t know cooking could be so hot.
Frank goes around to the other side of the island to make salad. Since we face each other, I feel his eyes on me from time to time. I realize my boobs are bouncing each time my arm moves. I become so conscious of his gaze that my imagination goes wild. Every time he steps away from where he is I have the wish he’ll come to me, hold me from behind, and cup my breasts in his hands. Just the thought of it makes my girly bits ache.
An hour later we sit down to eat dinner. Frank has a glass of wine and serves me coconut water.
“Mmm! This is so yummy,” I say after swallowing down the first bite. “Frank, you’re a much better cook than my dad!”
Frank laughs. “Thank you, sweetheart. I agree with you. John was never into cooking. He always preferred to eat out.”
Frank and my dad were roommates in college.
“He told me he was lucky to have a roommate who cooked,” I say as I glance at him.
“He did?” Frank smiles.
“He said you were the second best cook in the world,” I inform him. “My mom being the best.”
Frank’s gulping down the wine when he hears me. He almost chokes on it as he laughs. “John is a lucky bastard,” he says after he clears his throat. “Many girls were after him.”
My mouth falls. “Really? I didn’t know that!”
He chuckles. “He wouldn’t tell you, would he? But he was a popular guy. I was surprised he settled down so soon and for so long!”
I smiled, please to hear that. My dad and my mom have a great relationship and I’m always grateful for that.
But when I glance at Frank, I see a trace of gloom on his face. I become curious. “Are you happy being a bachelor, Frank? Do you want a family, too?”
He looks startled for a moment, and then he says stifling a smile. “Jeez, Meg. You sound like a grownup.”
“I am a grownup,” I say indignantly. “I’m eighteen!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Frank apologizes. “Of course I would like to have a family, but a person doesn’t always get what he wants.”
I’m puzzled by the comment. Dad says Frank is a billionaire. He worked in the IT industry for many years and now owns a business with multiple offices in the state. Since he’s wealthy and hot, he can have any woman he wants, right?
“What exactly do you want?” I ask curiously.
He gazes at me for a moment, his hazel eyes twinkle. He reaches out his hand and strokes the bridge of my nose, “I can’t tell you, little girl.”
“Hey!” I protest. “I’m not a little girl.”
Chapter 4
Frank
