Page 17 of Frankie (Big Northwest #5)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

FRANKIE

T he house around her was a complete stranger. Even the bones were different. Walls were gone. Windows were moved. Nothing was like she remembered.

And that wasn’t a bad thing. Because now, instead of being surrounded with relics of her past, she was smack dab in the middle of a world JD built all on his own. And boy did the man have good taste.

“That fireplace is GORGEOUS.” She pointed across the room as she walked, eyes bouncing from one new thing to the next. “How did you make that happen?”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” His hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “I could vent it out through the wall.”

She traced the line of mortar between the stones. “I always wanted a house with a fireplace. ”

Growing up, she and her sisters lived in a collection of rundown campers. The winters were so cold, her toes would lose their color and she had to fight the chattering of her teeth to fall asleep at night. When she was shivering in her worn out sleeping bag, she’d dream of being tucked in close to a crackling flame. Warm and toasty and safe.

Giving the stone surround and glossy wood mantle one last look, Frankie moved from the fireplace to the hall, where she toured the half bath off the main living area. The hardwood from the rest of the house carried into the small space and the walls were papered with a whimsical design of lush trees and deep green foliage. It was beautiful and not at all what she would have expected from a man who didn’t even own beard oil.

Three bedrooms and two baths made up the remainder of the top floor. The two smaller bedrooms had the same new flooring as everything else, and the walls were painted a neutral taupe color. The Jack-and-Jill bathroom between them sported the same neutral taupe paint and coordinating tile on the floor and walls.

She decided to skip the owner’s suite. She’d never been in it when JD’s parents owned the place, and going there now felt…

Confusing.

So she detoured to the door leading to the finished basement, excited to see what JD had done down there. He hesitated behind her, like going into the darkened area was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

“You don’t have to come down.” She flashed him a grin. “I’m sure you’ve seen all this before.”

Turning away, Frankie descended to the lower level, flipping on the switch at the bottom of the stairs. As the lights illuminated the space, her breath caught.

This was where she and her sisters had stayed when they first escaped their father. JD’s parents had been kind enough to section off nearly half their house for six scared girls with nowhere else to go. A row of single beds had taken up the bulk of the space. The rest contained a small kitchenette and a sofa that couldn’t hold them all at once.

It had been the nicest place she’d ever seen, let alone lived.

But now…

“This part took the longest.” JD’s voice was soft behind her. “I had to do some rewiring, and then all that shelving took forever to build.”

Frankie didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t. Not when the air was crushing her while also refusing to enter her lungs.

Fucking stupid air.

Swallowing hard, she hesitantly moved closer to the beautifully crafted racks filled with bottles and bottles of wine. The old green linoleum had been pulled up and was now replaced with travertine tile. The columns flanking the racks were the same stone that made up the fireplace on the main level. Reaching out, she touched the tip of one finger to a bottle of wine, to make sure it was really there. That she wasn’t having a bigger medical crisis than she realized and was now hallucinating.

The bottle was smooth and a little cool under her finger, and very, very real. So if this was all real then…

Turning from the racks, she scanned the rest of the space, eyes pausing a second at the plush sectional and thick carpet of the seating area, before landing on what she was searching for.

“Holy shit.” The words rushed out, stealing her breath with them as she tried to wrap her head around what she was seeing.

What it all meant.

Crossing the basement, she went straight to the door of the small sauna tucked into the far corner. Flinging it open, she stepped inside, gaze bouncing around the pristine surfaces. She would bet her whole business this thing had never been used.

That left only one reason for it to be here.

And it was the same reason she stormed out and stalked to the French doors leading to the patio outside. There, under the cover of the deck above, she found the last piece of a puzzle she wasn’t expecting to assemble.

A puzzle she didn’t know existed.

Staring at the hot tub in the glow of the string lights surrounding it, Frankie tried to rectify all she thought she knew with the truth looking back at her.

All this time she thought… Years he let her believe…

Spinning back to stalk into the house, she pointed an accusing finger at the man who wouldn’t meet her narrowed gaze. “You asshole.”

JD’s eyes stayed averted, but his jaw set tight and he held his ground as she moved closer, fury and hurt and frustration raising her voice.

“Why is all this here?” She wanted to scream at him, and kinda was, but the situation totally called for it.

Because the man who told her he didn’t want her had turned his house into the home she’d dreamt of as a stupid teenage girl. A naive kid who didn’t know enough to understand what really mattered.

To be fair, that understanding kind of snuck up on her recently, and once it hit, it ruined her life a little.

“ JD .” She snapped out his name, closing in on where he stood. “Why the fuck is all this here?”

His lips flattened into a thin line as his eyes finally, slowly found her face. “You know why it’s here, Frank.”

She shook her head, unwilling—unable—to accept that. “You said you didn’t want me.” Her voice pitched, climbing higher. “You said we could never be more than friends.” Her arms flailed around, motioning to everything. “Friends don’t do this.”

JD’s nostrils flared, indecision warring in his hard gaze. “You’re right.” His shoulders sagged a little. “Because I’ve never been your friend. Not the way I should have been.”

That stopped her short, stealing a little of the storm from her sails and replacing it with that old hurt she’d been nursing for so long. “What?” How could he claim that? After all the hours they’d spent talking as kids. All the secrets they’d shared. All the years since, when he’d uprooted his life to make sure she was safe. That she was taken care of. Protected.

He’d been her friend. Even when she didn’t want him to be.

“Liar.” She sniffled, hating the weakness wetting her eyes. “You were my friend.”

JD shook his head, regret and sadness pinching his eyes. “No, I wasn’t.” His voice was tight, almost angry when he said, “A friend wouldn’t want you the way I do.”

Her jaw went slack at his words. At what they might mean. “You don’t want me.” She refused to believe it. “You said?—”

“ I know what I said .” His words were sharp as they cut hers off. “Believe me. I know exactly what I fucking said. There’s not a day I haven’t had to remind myself of it.”

She opened her mouth, expecting something snarky—maybe even mean—to come out. That’s what she wanted. To be mean. To protect herself with the most cutting weapon she possessed. But JD cut her off before she could start.

“I swore I would protect you, Frank.” He was louder now, practically shouting. “Promised I’d keep everything that might hurt you from getting close. And that fucking included me.”

Her head was spinning. Circling faster and faster as the tangled web she didn’t know she was caught in started to unravel, leaving her unbalanced on the new terrain. “Promised who?” He’d sure as hell never said words like that to her, even if she might acknowledge their truth.

“My dad.” The admission was softer than the words before it. “He saw what was happening. Guessed how I felt about you. Told me you needed someone on your side who didn’t want anything from you. That I had to leave you alone or I was as bad as the people trying to exploit you and your sisters.”

There had been plenty of those over the years. Directors who wanted to buy their story for nearly nothing. Leeches who knew their past and tried to take advantage of their naiveté. Reporters who followed them around hoping to reveal even more of them to the world.

But not everyone who came for them had bad intentions. Danny married a man who was paid to find them. Hell, Charlie was engaged to one of the reporters who showed up on their doorstep.

Frankie shook her head. “That’s not true though.” She frowned at learning JD’s father—a man she trusted and even loved—had a hand in the misery she’d faced for so long. “Wanting someone and using them are two different things.”

And boy howdy did Craig and Adam want her sisters. They would scrape the flesh from anyone who tried to hurt them.

Maybe not so much Craig. He didn’t deal well with dismemberment. But he’d come up with something equally painful and deterring if anyone threatened Danny.

And she’d never doubted JD would do the same. Even on the days she hated him most. Even on the days she’d unleashed her anger and said the meanest things she could think of. Never once did she think he would leave her to fend for herself.

No matter how much she begged.

That left her with one very hard-to-swallow pill lodged in her throat. One that could harm or heal, depending on how it went down.

Gathering every bit of courage she had and straightening her shoulders against what might be in store, Frankie asked the same question she’d posed so long ago. “Do you want me, JD?”

They stared at each other, the silence stretching out as she waited for him to break her heart again. It was going to happen regardless of his answer. Either nothing had changed and once again she was misreading everything, or she’d lost the thing she wanted so much because of yet another stupid man who thought he knew what was best for her.

Make that two stupid men, because she was giving JD’s dad a piece of her mind the next time their paths crossed .

Finally, after taking and letting out a breath she could feel in her own chest, JD offered up the devastation she knew was coming. “I will always want you, Frank.”

She was so angry her body vibrated with it. So mad she wanted to throw anything she could get her hands on. To smash the stupid wine cellar her fifteen-year-old self thought would be the epitome of winning at life. To scream until her voice was gone and her throat was raw.

But bringing more suffering onto herself seemed counterintuitive. And even though she turned out to not be the wine drinker teenage Frankie expected, the shelves were beautiful, and broken bottles would be messy.

So she turned her wrath on the man in front of her. “You asshole.” She charged him, intent on doing as much damage as possible.

He caught her the second she reached him, his heavy arms clamping her tight to his chest as their mouths clashed in an almost violent act. It was nothing like the kiss they shared at the job site, and certainly not like the few pecks stolen in this very room a decade ago.

This was a war. One where they fought themselves as much as they did each other. Where what might have been and what could be tried to overcome the past and present.

It was fueled by hurt and heartache and lies and loss.

Her fingers tangled in his beard, gripping tight as she used the hold he had on her against him, bringing her legs off the ground to latch at his waist as she raked her teeth over his lower lip.

Unfortunately, he’d known her too long to fear her bite, and the low groan JD let out proved it. Almost as much as the hard line of his dick pressed against her pussy as he pivoted, reaching the enormous sectional in three long strides. Then they went down, her under him, the impact stealing her breath as much as the rough scrape of his hands over her belly.

“Tell me to leave you alone, Frank.” JD’s voice was rough. As ragged as his breath when his mouth moved against hers. “Please, for the love of God, tell me to leave you alone.”

“Fuck you.” Her gripping hands went to his shirt, fisting it tight as she wrestled the flannel fabric, not really sure what she was trying to do until buttons started popping free to litter the cushion behind her back. “And fuck you for letting someone else tell you what to do.” One final yank sent the last plastic disk flying across the room as the panels of his shirt separated to reveal the broad expanse of his hair-covered chest.

Her hands were on his body in an instant, fingers splayed across his pecs, nails sinking into his skin. She wanted to punish him. To make him suffer like she had.

But only if she could do it with his body on hers. His tongue in her mouth. His cock rocking against the steady throb in her pussy.

“Fuck you for making it so goddamned hard.” JD didn’t cower at her viciousness. He never had. “It should have been easier to move on.” He grabbed her shirt, and while he didn’t ruin it like she did his, he certainly wasn’t gentle as he ripped it over her head and tossed it to the floor.

“You sure as hell didn’t make it look hard when you brought Lena to Lily’s party.” Frankie’s hands went to his jeans, working the button loose.

“You think it was easy trying to find someone who could stand up to what we could have had?” JD snarled at her as he took over the removal of his pants, kicking them away before going for hers. “I looked for years for someone who made me feel half as much as you did.” He wrestled her fitted jeans past her hips, long fingers hooking the thin sides of her panties at the same time. “Because you make me feel a hell of a lot.” Leaning back, he managed to get the jeans past her knees. “Good and bad.”

Frankie tugged one foot free then grabbed him by the beard, using the hold to pull his body back to hers. “And all you do is piss me off.” The claim wasn’t true. Not anymore. But delving into the pile of feelings fueling the interaction currently happening between them wasn’t going to happen. “But I have a few ideas for how you can make it up to me.”