Page 52 of Tempting Frankie
“Make yourself comfortable,” I tell Francesca over my shoulder. “Wine is in the rack by the fridge. Glasses are in the cabinet above.”
I hear her padding around the kitchen, the clink of glasses, the pop of a cork. The fire catches quickly, and I feed it carefully, coaxing the flames higher. The warm glow fills the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
When I stand and turn around, my breath catches in my throat. Francesca's curled up on the oversized leather sofa, a glass of red wine cradled in her hands. The firelight plays over her face, softening her features, turning her eyes to liquid amber.
I settle onto the couch, pulling Francesca between my legs. She leans back against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her waist, savoring the warmth of her body against mine. We sit in comfortable silence, sipping our wine and watching as the sky darkens and stars begin to twinkle over the water.
The fire crackles, casting a warm glow across the room. Francesca's hair smells like lavender and honey. I trace lazy circles on her arm with my thumb, feeling her relax further into me.
“It's so beautiful,” she murmurs, her eyes fixed on the sky. “I've never seen so many stars.”
I nod, my chin brushing the top of her head. “Light pollution's a shame in the city. Out here, you can see the Milky Way on a clear night.”
She tilts her head back, looking up at me with a soft smile. “You'll have to show me.”
“I’ll show you everything, baby,” I say, pressing a kiss to her temple.
We fall quiet again; the only sounds are the crackling fire and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. I can feel thetension melting out of Francesca's body, her breathing slow and steady.
After a while, she speaks again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never had anything like this growing up.”
I tighten my arms around her, sensing the vulnerability in her words. “Tell me,” I say softly.
She takes a deep breath, her fingers idly tracing patterns on my forearm. “I was in foster care from the time I was eight. Bounced around a lot, never stayed in one place for long.”
My jaw clenches, thinking of her as a little girl, shuffled from home to home like an unwanted package. “That must have been hard,” I say, keeping my voice neutral.
She shrugs, but I feel the tremor that runs through her body. “It was what it was. You learn to adapt, to not get too attached.”
I press another kiss to her hair, silently urging her to continue.
“Then when I was fourteen, I ended up in this home with five other kids. That's where I met Kat.” Her voice softens, a note of warmth creeping in. “She was twelve and all attitude. But we just…clicked, you know?”
I nod, even though she can't see me. “Sometimes you find your family in unexpected places.”
“Yeah,” she says, a smile in her voice. “That's exactly it. We looked out for each other, covered for each other when things got rough. And when Kat turned eighteen, we both took my last name.”
My heart aches for the two girls who found solace in each other, who chose to be sisters in every way that matters. “That's beautiful, Francesca,” I murmur.
Francesca shifts in my arms, turning to face me. Her eyes search mine, curiosity dancing in their depths. “Why don't you come here more often?” she asks, her voice soft but probing.
I open my mouth to answer, but the words die on my tongue. Why don't I? The question hits me like a sucker punch, leaving me winded and off-balance. I stare out at the inky lake, watching the moonlight ripple across its surface as I search for an answer.
“I...” I start, then stop. I don't have a good reason. There's no reason why I shouldn't be out here more often. No reason why I haven't brought her here until now, two months into us.
The silence stretches between us. Francesca waits, patient but expectant. I can feel her eyes on me, see the slight furrow of her brow in my peripheral vision.
Finally, I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Honestly? I don't know,” I admit, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I bought this place years ago, thinking it'd be a retreat. Somewhere to escape, you know?”
Francesca nods, her fingers idly tracing patterns on my forearms. The touch grounds me, gives me the courage to continue.
“But then life happened. Work got busier. The company expanded. And this place, it just sat here. Empty. Waiting.”
I look down at her, taking in the way the firelight dances across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips. “I guess I forgot how to slow down,” I murmur. “Forgot how to just...be.”
She considers this, her head tilted slightly. “And now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I cup her face in my hands, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. “Now? Now I'm wondering why the hell I waited so long to bring you here.”
