Page 72 of Stitched Up in You
“Doing what?” I ask, my voice deadpan as I realize Bernadette is grounding me.
“Youknowwhat. I’m not going anywhere with you until you start giving me some answers,” she says, tossing her arms over her voluptuous chest.
I gaze down at her, a small smile playing on my lips. “Then you’ll get them. Come with me and I’ll show you something you’ll never see anywhere else,” I tell her, deciding I might as well try towooher after all.
I’m hesitant to tell her of the mate bond as something tells me trying to force Bernadette into anything, even a fated connection, could send her running for the hills.
But perhaps if she has all the facts first, she won’t have cause to run in the opposite direction, because if she does, I’ve no inkling of what my reaction will be.
I’ve several properties I could outfit to hold her, and many of them she may even enjoy visiting, but it’d be easier if she wants to come instead of my having to constrain her.
“Fine, I’ll come with you. But you better start explaining soon, Frank. Let me go get my shoes,” she says, sounding suddenly excited as she scurries back up the steps.
A warmth spreads through my chest as feelings of elation course through me. My gaze locks on her ample hips that sway as she bounds up the stairs, and my teeth grind in my mouth. Sharing anything with a human is never a choice I thought I’d be making, but it’s becoming resoundingly clear that I won’t be able to do without her.
One way or the other she will be mine.
Chapter 27
BERNADETTE CRENSHAW
The more we walk, the clearer the sky seems to get. I stare at Frank's yummy broad back trying to understand what I just saw. I glance up, my glasses lifting a bit when I scrunch my nose at the bright sun overhead.There’s not a cloud in the sky now. “So, you can control the weather?” I ask, my voice blasé, as if it’s no big deal. Storm from the X-Men would have arguments, I’m sure.
He stops on the grassy path we're walking on toward the tables and turns to look at me, meeting my gaze. “Did you feed Edgar?” he asks.
My brows knit in confusion at the question. “Yeah, why?” I ask.
“Because we may be gone for a while with everything I need to show you,” he says, before turning back around to continue wherever the hell we’re going.
“I fed him earlier.” What Frank doesn't need to know is that after leaving him in the hallway this morning and grabbing a hot shower, it took forever for me to calm down and process what happened.
I tossed and turned so often while trying to go back to sleep, Edgar got mad at me and is refusing to let me touch him. I couldn’t settle down, and I’m still not sure how to make sense of what happened between us. And here I am, with a lot more questions than answers, so Frank had better start talking soon. “When are you going to start answering my questions?” I ask him, reminding him of the fact that I've already asked one.
He sighs heavily but keeps moving.
“Were you controlling the weather earlier? That storm came up out of nowhere just like the last one when we visited the village, and whenever I looked at you, I swear it looked like your arms were covered in electricity. You were doing that, right?” I pepper him with my theories, remembering how all the hair on my body lifted the closer I got to him, but then when I touched him it stopped.
Before then I’d gotten a strange feeling, like something was urging me to go to him. That's the only reason I left my room in the first place, deciding to go grab a coffee and pump myself up before facing Frank or trying to find him.
“Did you manage to get a nap in?” he asks, glancing at me over his shoulder.
Is he not going to answer me? My hands ball into fists, my nostrils flaring as my temper gets the best of me. “Seriously, dude, if you don't start answering questions right now, I'm going back home,” I say, refusing to take one more step.
“Look,” he says, turning around and stomping to where I stand in the middle path, running one thick mitt through his voluminous blonde hair, “this isn't something that's easy for me, and it's not something that I've ever done. This will be a lot simpler if you would just come with me and let me show you what I want to show you, and then I will answer your questions.” That's when I realize he's nervous.
He holds his hand out to me, and a wave of uncertainty pulls at my middle as I place my hand in his.
What the hell could make Frank Stein nervous?
“Come on, I promise you'll want to see this,” he says, linking our fingers together and pulling me down the path.
After a few minutes, I recognize the area as being near Brom’s paddock, just to the left up ahead.
“We've got a short horse ride today to take you where we’re going,” he announces.
“Fine,” I mumble, even as excitement turns in my gut. I like Brom, and I know I’ll love an afternoon ride, but there's no way I'm lettinghimknow.
I'm not kidding, if he doesn't start telling me something soon, he'll have to find someone else to follow him around.
