Page 22 of Frankie and the Fed (Untamed Rascals #3)

T he golden light of the setting sun faded like a clock ticking down, pressing in on me from all sides. I stared at the computer, willing the words I knew I needed to type to appear.

My date with Frankie was soon, and my boss was expecting a new report. His last message reiterated where I needed to focus my investigation and chewed me out for avoiding his call that night I was with Frankie.

I put him off, not telling him exactly what I was doing despite the fact that spending time with the lead suspect could easily be excused as part of my investigation.

Something about this didn’t sit right with me. It wasn’t protocol to hold so closely to one suspect with the scant evidence we had, but Taggart was pushing hard for me to finish this and bring her in.

Fuck.

Despite avoiding Frankie for a few days, I’m no closer to any other lead. I just couldn’t focus.

Distancing myself while still seeing her almost daily only made my every thought turn to her. Thoughts like: Why did she wear that wig? What was she doing after work? That shirt stretches across her tits nicely, but it would look better on the floor.

I scrubbed my face. I needed to turn something in, or Taggart would get suspicious and try to take over. He couldn’t know just how far off the rails this entire investigation had gone.I had to give him something and buy myself a little more time to figure this out.

Hopefully, I would uncover something tonight to help.

I typed four words: Staking out museum tonight .

He didn’t need to know it was a date with the lead suspect. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him how excited I was about it.

I sent the update and hoped it would be enough to keep him happy for now. I closed my computer and considered my clothing. I hadn’t expected to date while undercover, and I’d worn my one decent outfit already.

I pulled out my phone. Nothing was going right, but at least I could let Frankie know I was running late and looking forward to seeing her.

I took a quick picture of myself in my work clothes and sent her a message.

J: Apparently I wore my only nice outfit the last time we went out. I’m going to hit up a store so I don’t show up in my work clothes… or naked.

F: Naked is fine. Just maybe a trench coat? Fuck yeah, I have this fantasy, and you naked here would fill it nicely .

I sent a laughing emoji. That was not going to happen. I had to be in public between here and the museum. Also, it was my workplace right now and her workplace always. I couldn’t show up naked.

I changed into the jeans she liked so much and a throwaway shirt and then ordered a ride to the nearest clothing store with suitable tops.

It was always a toss-up whether I would find something in my size since I was at the top end of most regular clothing, but maybe showing up in something a little too tight would work.

The clock ticked away while I waited. I paced the small room, eager to be on the road. I should bring something. Maybe I can get her flowers. I looked in my fridge, wishing I could just make some wine appear.

Did she like wine?

Fuck, I didn’t know. I should ask her tonight.

My phone buzzed, letting me know my ride was here. I raced out the door, eager to be on the way.

Frankie sent me a picture just as I slid into the back of the car. She wore another short skirt, this one stretching tight around those hips I loved so much, fishnet stockings, and a flowy crop top. Her soft belly peaked out, and my mouth watered.

J: Fucking chaos whore. Ready for me?

God, I barely recognized the person she brought out in me. Possessive and desperate and needy.

More and more lately, I didn’t know myself at all. It was like meeting Frankie turned everything I knew to be true on its head .

No, that wasn’t right. That implied everything was the opposite. It was more like I stepped through the looking glass, except the only thing that changed was me.

F: Hurry up.

I looked at the map. Close. I was so fucking close. I just needed to grab the first decent top that was close enough to my size. The shop was near the museum, so I could walk from there faster than it would take to order another car.

I found a white top, nothing fancy, but it wasn’t a t-shirt and didn’t have some stupid saying on it. Just as I thought, it was a size too small and pulled tight over me.

I took a picture in the dressing room where I changed and sent it to Frankie.

F: Fuck, Jamie. Don’t tease me. Why do you look like you could lift me? Wait, can you lift me? Are you actually a muscle mommy?

I bristled at the word ‘mommy.’ I didn’t know what it was about being called things like mommy and ma’am, and I knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but I just… it felt so wrong.

J: Please don’t call me that.

I wanted to take the message back as soon as I sent it.

F: shit, right you said something like that the other night. I’m sorry. You look good in that top, though.

I smiled. I felt good in this top. Something about the simplicity made me feel like myself.

I paid, shoved my other top in the bag the clerk gave me, and practically ran out the door to Frankie.

Frankie was pacing outside the back door of the museum when I arrived. She looked lost in thought, but halted in her tracks when she spotted me, concern furrowing her brow.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my chest tightening as I took her in.

“I’m sorry!”

Panic surged so fast it stole my breath. She looked ok, safe, no blood, she was standing and talking, she wasn’t hurt.

“What happened?” Even though I could see she was ok, I still raced up to her, wanting to touch her to be sure.

“I fucked up. You said you didn’t want femme nicknames, and I went and threw one out at you anyway, and I’ve been worried you’d be hurt, and I know for some people it’s really bad and I just…” She slumped into my arms.

“Baby, I’m fine. Really.” Fuck, she felt good against me.

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that.” I laughed a little as I pushed her back. “I—I don’t really understand why it bothers me. It just feels wrong. Like an itchy sweater. I appreciate you worrying about me, though.”

“Wanna talk about it?” She said, but I shook my head, more interested in kissing her than talking.

“Maybe some other time.” I bent and pressed my lips against hers.

A small moan escaped me at the taste of her and the way her soft, thick lips molded perfectly to my thinner ones.

It was just a few days, but fuck, I’d been missing this.

“I have a surprise. You’re going to like this. Wait… Well, hopefully you will like it. I didn’t do it or plan it,” she said mysteriously when we broke our kiss. Her eyes were bright, but a cute little furrow still creased her brows.

“I’m sure it will be great.” I grabbed her hand, stopping her worried rambling.

She squeezed my hand and pulled me into the museum. We walked through the back halls, dim from minimal nighttime lighting, past her office—where I assumed we would go—and into the entry hall.

“Oh!” The museum was decorated for Halloween. “Shit, I didn’t realize…” I almost slipped and told her I didn’t realize I’d been here this long.

“That it was already almost Halloween?” She laughed and pulled me to the model of a T-Rex that greeted guests. It was wrapped up like a mummy. “This is my favorite holiday.”

The way she lit up was adorable. She was right.

I loved it. Not the decorations—those just were, but her face when she showed me around.

The childlike wonder as she talked about her favorite celebrations of years past and her plans for her costume this year.

Apparently, she dressed up every year and gave a special presentation for any tours that came through.

“I can’t wait to see it,” I said, but unease wormed through me and the words felt hollow. I didn’t even plan on being here this long to begin with, and it was only mid-October. More time on an assignment I had been sure would be wrapped up quickly wasn’t ideal, even if ending it meant ending… this.

I pulled her close, desperation clawing at my insides. My hands slid into her hair as I cupped her face, interrupting whatever she had been saying to kiss her while I still could.

I didn’t let her go but pushed her back until she was pressed against the wall nearest us and slid my hand to her waist, pulling her into me, trying to meld our bodies into one.

I couldn’t leave her, not if she was attached to me. Not if she were mine.

“Well, that’s a bit earlier in the night than I planned, but I’m not complaining,” she whispered when I pulled away and rested my forehead against hers.

My hands gripped her waist, just under her top, her warm, soft skin searing into me.

“What else do you have planned?” I kissed her again before she could answer, just one quick press of our lips.

“Dinner. There’s a spot in the museum where the cameras don’t reach. I’ve set us up a little picnic.”

Shit. Cameras. The same security footage Taggart can access and watch. The same footage that I should be scouring for leads. I let her drag me away. This was such a mess.

I’d have to think of something, some reason I’d been kissing the lead suspect in the museum after hours like some twisted version of Clue, except the only loser here was me.

“How did they decorate in such a short time?” I asked to distract myself from how much I fucked up and how sure I was that I would do it again.

“Uh… that’s on me, actually.”

“You said you didn’t do it.” She pulled me from room to room.

Large spiders strategically placed on webs hung in the corners and doorways, some exhibits that could tolerate it had fog rolling throughout, an exhibit that had been under construction since I arrived was opened now and showed the history of magical practices throughout the world, not strictly ‘natural history,’ but definitely in keeping with Halloween.

“I didn’t, exactly. Part of my parents’ attempt to win me over after my rather homophobic childhood involves funding all this. They know how much I love the holiday and love the museum.” She sounded hurt and angry and small.