Page 22 of Winning You
CHAPTER FIVE
FRANKIE
As he poureda bowl of cereal for Elodie, Frankie found himself feeling a bit like a shitty parent. He was pretty sure Lucas hadn’t been trying to shame him the night before about tragic casseroles and cereal, but it put a spotlight on the fact that he wasn’t a normal dad. He didn’t know how to cook. He spot cleaned as best he could to make sure that Elodie could move around the house without falling on her face, but he wasn’t one of those parents on Instagram who had pristine counters and mopped every single day and turned out meals that looked like they belonged in five-star restaurants.
He was lucky if he managed not to burn her chicken nuggets and sweet potato fries.
He’d tried to do all of that once, but he failed miserably.
And now, he didn’t know if he was doing entirely wrong by her.
And maybe by himself.
God, he was all twisted up inside. There was something fundamentally wrong with him that the first time his dick had stirred since his ex left was when Lucas was mouthing off to him. He wasn’t usually a man who wanted conflict in his life, but something about Lucas was different.
The man was probably half his age though, so he had no fucking business at all looking at him the way he had. He didn’t know if it made him a monster, either, that he was glad Lucas couldn’t see it. But there was every chance he’d heard something in Frankie’s tone, which was probably the reason he was so acerbic.
He needed to let this go.
“Daddeeee?”
Frankie peered around the corner and found Elodie crawling toward him. She was wearing her glasses, which was the first time she’d kept them on all week. Her big eyes were bright behind the thick lenses.
“Hey, Bugs. You want me to help you stand up?”
“No. I just…can. I can do it.” Her little hand reached for the wall and propped herself up, shuffling from side to side until her legs were straight. The braces helped a bit, but it was always a bit of a gut punch to watch her struggle with something that he had never thought twice about.
Sometimes he was angry at his mother for this. That she’d been irresponsible again. That she hadn’t made something better of her life. That her poor decisions that led to Elodie’s birth trauma and injury made the girl’s life harder. He understood what his mom had was a disease—that she needed more than anyone could give her in order to help.
But it didn’t erase the long, aching childhood trauma that had carved away at him and scarred his bones. Even if she did get better in prison, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive her. Not entirely.
Not all the way.
“I want the bus.”
Frankie walked over and swept her into his arms, putting her in her booster chair and strapped her in. “The bus isn’t comingtoday. You had another seizure last night, so you’re gonna go with Fallon today.”
“Noooo! I want…just…” She sniffed loudly, and it was only in that moment that he realized she was smelling something. And so was he.
Cinnamon?
“At the mall!”
The mall. The…oh my god. It was cinnamon buns.
“You want a cinnamon bun?”
Her big eyes locked on his face, and she blinked behind her glasses. “Yeah. I wan’ it.”
Biting his lip, he sighed and pressed his hand over hers, guiding it to her bowl of cereal. “Start this breakfast, and I’ll see what I can do.” He shuffled toward the door, one eye on her as the scent got stronger.
Fuck, it was probably Lucas tormenting him. The man was a chef—and while he hadn’t made anything gourmet, the grilled PB and J was the best thing Frankie’d had in a long, long time. Lucas seemed to have a talent for making something mundane into something much more.
He reached for the knob and opened the door, preparing a small speech in case he could find the courage to head to Lucas’s when he almost stepped in something. He glanced down. It was a plate with cling film, and under it, three very large, frosted cinnamon buns.
His hands shook as he reached down and picked them up. On the bottom of the plate, he felt something like thick paper—sort of like a business card. Pulling it off, he shut the door behind him and realized that it was blank.
Except no. It wasn’t.
