Page 6 of Frankie (Big Northwest #5)

CHAPTER SIX

JD

I f this whole situation wasn’t so fucking unamusing, he might have laughed at the ridiculousness of her challenge. But Frankie’s blatantly false claim pissed him off. “You know, I’d love to. Except she probably hates my fucking guts now because of your bullshit with Foster.”

Frankie’s blue eyes flew open wide. “ My bullshit?” Her voice went up in pitch. “Foster didn’t do anything to you. He was—” Frankie’s eyes slowly narrowed, a smirk working across her lips. “In fact, he was nothing but nice to you.” Her voice was syrupy sweet as she turned his words back on him.

“Like hell.” JD turned away, going back to her drawers. He fished out a fresh pair of sweatpants and went directly to her feet, eyes fused to his task as he worked them up her body in silence. What was there to say? Nothing. That’s why they normally didn’t talk. Last night and this morning were perfect examples of why that should continue. Because when they did talk, shit got nasty.

He got mean and she got meaner.

Going to her closet, he grabbed one of the dark green hooded sweatshirts printed with the Shadow Pine logo off its hanger and carried it back to where Frankie sat on the bed. “Put this on. It’ll be cold in the hospital.”

She rolled her eyes but let him pull it over her head. He held it in place as she laced both arms through the sleeves. Once it was in place, he put on a pair of socks and a set of sneakers. Then he turned his attention to the satiny bonnet on her head. “Do you want to keep that on?”

Frankie’s eyes lifted and she pursed her lips. “Does it have twigs stuck to it?”

He leaned in to give the silky fabric a once over. “No twigs, but there’s some leaf stuff and a dirt streak up one side.”

Frankie groaned as she reached up to loosen the edge, carefully pulling it off her curly hair. She winced as it slid free, fingers gently touching her blonde strands. “How bad does it look?”

“Um.” There was no good way to answer this. “It’s going a lot of different directions.”

“Of course it is,” Frankie grumbled as she attempted, once again, to get herself upright. “I’ll spray it with some water. Try to tame it down. ”

“Stay here.” He didn’t give her the opportunity to argue—and she would have—before heading into the bathroom. Luckily, her spray bottle was easily accessible on the edge of the sink. He grabbed it, along with a hand towel, carrying both back to the bedroom. He handed Frankie the towel and started misting her hair. He’d seen her thousands of times over the years, so he had a pretty good idea of how she preferred the longer hair covering the top and one side of her head to look.

Working carefully, he separated out the curls and began piling them in a somewhat orderly fashion. It wasn’t going to be perfect, but it would at least be organized. A few of the more problematic bits had to be sprayed a couple more times. Once they were wet, he took a chance and twisted them around a finger, pleasantly surprised when they regained their proper shape.

Frankie sat very still for the whole procedure, her eyes on him as he rectified the mess a night in a net had made of her head.

“I thought that bonnet thing was supposed to protect your hair.” JD soaked down another wild section and began separating it out. “Doesn’t seem like it did a very good job.”

Frankie’s eyes narrowed on him. “How do you know what bonnets are for?”

Once again, his dumbass mouth was getting him into trouble. Putting him in a situation where he had to give up information he didn’t want to offer. “I noticed you wearing it when I was camped out next door. Wondered what it was, so I looked it up.”

There were times recently when Shadow Pine wasn’t the safe haven it should’ve been. He’d brought his fifth wheel and parked it right beside Frankie and Sam’s houses so he could keep a close eye on things. Like everything else he did, it pissed Frankie all the way off, and she hadn’t missed the opportunity to let him know. Loudly. At five in the morning, wearing a silky bonnet on her head.

Frankie’s eyes dropped to his beard. “You could probably use one yourself.”

Without thinking, he ran a hand over the dark hair covering his jaw. “My beard looks fine.”

Frankie snorted. “Your beard looks feral.” She slapped at his hands, leaning her head away. “Go get the gold bottle off my sink.”

Frankie was bossy, but he didn’t mind. As an only child, he grew up used to getting his way and could probably still use to get knocked down a peg or two. “Yes, ma’am.”

Frankie’s house was small, so it was only a few steps to get what she wanted. When he came back, she took it from his hand, pumping a few drops of what looked like oil into her palm. Dropping the bottle to the bed, Frankie rubbed her hands together then came directly at him.

He didn’t have the opportunity to get away before her fingers were in his beard, working the oil all through the coarse hairs.

Frankie frowned, her blonde brows pinching together. “What in the hell do you wash this thing with?”

“Soap. Same thing I wash the rest of my body with.” What kind of fucking trick question was that? Did she think he didn’t wash it?

“Oh my God.” Frankie’s eyes rolled. “Of course you wash everything with the same damn bar of soap.” She smoothed down the long length of his facial hair, patting it into place. “You need beard wash.” She pinched a section with her fingers, rolling the hairs between them. “Also beard conditioner, and beard oil.” Her head tipped to one side. “And probably a deep conditioning treatment. This thing is suffering. I’m shocked Danny hasn’t tried to put it up on her bad taxidermy shelf.”

“Why in the hell would I do a deep conditioning treatment on my beard?” He frowned. Did the thing really look that damn bad, or was she giving him shit? It was impossible to tell because it could honestly go either way.

“To keep it from looking sad and unkempt.” Her hands continued smoothing over his face. “I like how it’s a little curly, but curly hair needs a lot more maintenance.”

JD forced his eyes to the top of her head, trying to ignore how nice her touch felt against his skin. “I’ve noticed.” He tried to reach for Frankie’s curls again, intending to finish the process he’d started, but she smacked him away.

“I’m sure it’s good enough. We need to get to the café before everyone starts to freak out. ”

This fucking woman. So goddamn stubborn. “We’re not going to the café, Frank. We’re going to the hospital.” He turned away knowing she was going to argue with him.

She scoffed like they hadn’t already discussed this, yelling down the hall as he let the girls back inside. “You shit and fell back in it. If we don’t go to the café?—”

“If we don’t go to the café, everyone will get the fuck over it.” He stalked back into the room, reaching down to scoop her up before she could decide to try to get away again. “I’m sure Kenneth and Jeffrey are more than capable of explaining to everyone that you had an emergency.”

He carried her through the house, going straight out the front door and onto the sidewalk. There were plenty of people already lined up to get their pancake balls at the bakery, and to meet the sisters at the café, but he ignored all of them, stomping past and daring anyone to try to stop him. If they wanted to see Frankie, they were going to have to fucking wait.

Making a beeline for his truck, he shifted Frankie around carefully so he could unlock and open the door. Once she was loaded into the passenger seat, he rounded the front and got behind the wheel.

He turned to where she sat beside him. “Ready?”

Frankie shot him a scowl. “Do I have a choice?”

He grinned. “No.”

After turning over the engine, he backed out and followed the narrow side street where Danny lived until it joined with the main road at the other end of town. They weren’t even out of sight before his cell phone started to ring, the sound blasting through the speakers.

Frankie’s eyes leveled on the name displayed across the console and a smirk twisted her lips. “Get ready to have your ass handed to you.”

He connected Kenneth’s call, but didn’t take his foot off the gas. “Yeah?”

“What’s going on?” Kenneth sounded more curious than angry. Hopefully the trend continued.

“Someone got herself caught in one of the nets in the woods last night. I got her out this morning, but she’s got a lot of pain, so I’m taking her to the hospital to get checked over.” He didn’t say who it was. Didn’t have to. Kenneth didn’t miss much that happened in Shadow Pine, so the retired government agent sure as hell knew it was Frankie in his pickup truck.

“I wondered what was going on.” Kenneth’s response was clipped, but not angry. “Keep me posted.”

Frankie made a sound of outrage as the call ended, her eyes wide with shock. “What the fuck?”

“I know this might surprise you, but unlike you, Kenneth trusts me.” He gripped the wheel, squeezing it tight at the reminder of how far-reaching the effects of the action his father convinced him to take really were. Not only did it make Frankie hate him with a passion, it also stole all the trust she had for him. And at one point, there had been plenty .

“That’s only because Kenneth doesn’t know how full of shit you can be.” Her snide remark proved how much anger she still carried.

It wasn’t surprising. Frankie and her sisters had been completely sheltered from the world—definitely from boys their own age—while they were under their father’s rule. She was a teenager when the girls came to live with him and his parents. Well beyond the age most people had their first crush.

During the two years they lived in the same house, she and he formed a bond. Nothing physical, but that almost made it worse. Their connection was entirely emotional.

And deep.

“I wasn’t full of shit, Frank.” He stared straight ahead, unable to look at her.

Frankie snorted. “Right.” She crossed both arms over her chest and turned to the window, mumbling under her breath.

“What was that?” He couldn’t hear as well as she could, but he picked up enough to know she was talking shit.

Frankie’s head snapped his way. “I said, you’re a liar.”

He understood why she was mad, but the words still stung. Especially since they weren’t true. “I’m not full of shit, and I’m not a fucking liar.”

Frankie had her mouth open, ready and primed to continue arguing, but the ringing of his phone cut her off.

Thank God .

He answered the call, not even caring who he was going to be dealing with on the other end. “Yeah.”

“Kenneth said you’re taking Frankie to the hospital. What’s going on?” Jeffrey sounded halfway into a panic. “Do you need me to meet you there? I can bring clothes and snacks and?—”

“You don’t have to meet us there.” He made sure to sound calmer than he felt. If Jeffrey had any inkling about all the tension in this truck right now, the man would be in his car, breaking land speed records to protect Frankie. “She’s got a little soreness in her joints and I think it’s best to get it looked at.”

“Well it’s probably from being stuck in that net all night.” Jeffrey sighed, but it was impossible to tell if it was relief at Frankie being okay, or aggravation at her entrapment. “What was she doing out there alone anyway?”

Frankie stiffened beside him, the anger in her expression morphing quickly into one of sadness. She tried to hide it by immediately turning away, but moved too slow.

Not that he needed to see it. It was easy to tell Frankie was struggling with being the only unattached sister in town.

“It was a nice night. I can’t blame her for wanting to enjoy it.” He probably would have been better served to do the same. Because going to the bar sure hadn’t helped any of his causes.

“Well I guess that’s true.” Jeffrey sighed again. “You take good care of my girl and tell her I’ll bring some food over when she gets back.”

A soft smile curved Frankie’s lips at Jeffrey’s words.

“Will do.” JD disconnected the call. “Jeffrey says?—”

Frankie barked out a laugh. “Oh my God. I heard.” She flipped down the visor and slid open the mirror, turning her head from one side to the other as she inspected the job he’d done on her hair.

“Not half bad, is it?” He wasn’t trying to be smug, but considering he kept his hair short and didn’t own a single styling product, he thought he’d done pretty fucking well.

“Not awful.” Frankie gave him a sidelong glance. “Now if you’d only put half that much effort into the feral animal growing on your face…”

“You’re a fucking feral animal.” The words were barely out of his mouth before his brain—maybe his dick—offered up the suggestion that it wouldn’t be too horrible having her on his face either.

Fuck. He swore inwardly.

This was how it always went if he was around Frankie too long. They fought like fucking cats and dogs and then—at some point—he’d think about her in a way he shouldn’t. Imagine what it would be like if they took all the volatile energy between them into the bedroom.

Or the bathroom.

Or the kitchen.

Or the front seat of his truck. He wasn’t a picky man .

But the second his thoughts went sideways, his father’s words would always come back to haunt him. To remind him of what was most important.

That’s when he would get as far from her as he could. Leave town. Spend a few days away so he could reset.

But that wasn’t an option right now.

Today, he was fucked.

“Next time I go buy my hair stuff, I’m gonna get what you need to take care of that thing.” Frankie peeked at him again, her lip curling as her eyes drifted over his beard. “For Danny’s sake.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe she looks at it every day and hasn’t tried to get it under control.”

“Who says she hasn’t?” Somehow, over the years they’d known each other, the tables had started to turn between all of them, and the sisters went from being the ones he took care of, to being the ones trying to take care of him. One of them was always pointing out when he needed a haircut. Or chasing him down with teeny tiny scissors so they could trim his eyebrows. Or smearing his knuckles with flower scented hand cream when they cracked in the winter. It was like having a wife. Four of them.

Minus all the sex.

And now Frankie seemed to want to join their league. Having Danny, Sam, Charlie, and Alex aggravating him was bad enough, but if Frankie decided to make a habit of running her hands over his skin like she had today?

That was going to be a problem .

JD reached out to switch on the music, turning up the volume on his speakers so the playlist automatically set to stream filled the cab. He needed something to block out all the Frankie beginning to permeate his private space. And to deter her from attempting any more conversation that might send his thoughts down a path they couldn’t go.

Frankie’s head bobbed back as the music started, her expression going from shock to disgust in the blink of an eye. “What the fuck song are you listening to?”

“He Stopped Loving Her Today.” He bristled at her tone, feeling defensive. “It’s a classic.”

“It’s fucking creepy is what it is.” Frankie grabbed his cell phone from where he’d left it on the console. “Do you even know what it’s about?”

Of course he fucking knew what it was about. “It’s about a man who loved a woman until he died.”

“It’s about a man who was so obsessed with a chick that he continued pining away for her even though she didn’t want to be with him. He sat around re-reading the letters she’d written him and underlined where she wrote I love you in red.” Her nose scrunched up in distaste. “It’s freaking weird and stalkery.” She held out his phone. “Unlock this, so I can play something good.”

He snagged away the phone, tapping the passcode in before handing it back. “Why is that creepy?”

Frankie scowled down at the screen of his phone. “It’s creepy because he should have moved on when she didn’t want him.”

JD glanced her way as she went through his Spotify account. “Who says she didn’t want him?”

Frankie didn’t look up, just kept scrolling through songs. “If she wanted him, they would’ve been together.”

He forced his gaze from where she sat so close and yet so far away, putting his eyes on the road. “Not necessarily.”