Irresistible (Cloverleigh Farms #1)(9)

“Knock, knock.”

I looked up and saw Frannie coming into my office with a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. “Here you go,” she said, setting it on my desk.

“Thanks.”

“Chloe said you need someone to watch the kids this afternoon?”

“Yeah.” I frowned. “Mrs. Ingersoll broke her leg and can’t drive.”

Frannie shrugged, tucking her hands in her back pockets. “I can do it.”

“What about the reception desk?”

“I’m only scheduled until one, and my mom is working too. We’re not that busy today. I have some social media stuff to do, but it’s nothing urgent.” She shrugged. “I don’t mind, really.”

“Are you sure?” I asked slowly. “I was trying to think of someone else who could help, but not having much luck. I could even run and pick her up and bring her back here so you don’t have to leave the desk too early.”

“That’s perfect. I’ll get her some lunch here, and then we’ll head back to your house in time to be there when Millie and Felicity get home.”

Picking up the cup of hot coffee, I looked at Frannie, half expecting her to sprout wings and a halo and float away. “You’re the best. I owe you one.”

Her cheeks went a little pink. “It’s nothing.”

“Right now, it’s actually everything. Thanks, Frannie.”

Blushing deeper, she smiled at me once more before leaving my office.

I tried not to look at her butt as she left, but her black pants were kind of tight and her shirt was tucked in. She had a great little figure—petite but curvy.

Alone again, I got to work, but Frannie’s smile stayed on my mind throughout the morning. And her pink cheeks. And her cute little ass.

Jesus, what was wrong with me? She was practically a kid, for chrissake. No way could she even be thirty, and soon I’d be pushing forty. And she had an innocence about her that made me feel even worse … yet it also made her more appealing.

For fuck’s sake. Stop it, you perv. She’s doing you a huge favor and doesn’t need you drooling over her like a starving dog. It’s not her problem you haven’t had sex in over a year.

Truth—I couldn’t even remember the last time Carla and I had done it. The sex had been so blah for so long, so disconnected and rote, that neither of us had bothered to initiate it much toward the end.

But that didn’t make it okay for me to get all worked up over Frannie. Even if she did seem like she might be a hell of a lot of fun in bed. Playful. Energetic. Eager to please.

Christ, MacAllister. Enough.

If ever there was a girl off limits, it was Frannie Sawyer. Shifting in my chair, I adjusted the crotch of my pants and put her out of my head.





Frannie





“Hi, Winnie!” I gave her a smile, my heart thumping hard at the sight of Mack holding his little girl’s mittened hand as they walked through the lobby. “How was school?”

“Good,” she said.

“My goodness, you’re getting big.” My mother shook her head as Mack brought his daughter around the desk. “You’re going to be as tall as Frannie soon!”

I groaned. “She probably will. Millie only has another couple inches to go.”

“Good things come in small packages.” Mack winked at me, and my belly fluttered. He had the most beautiful deep blue eyes.

“Would you like to come up to my apartment for lunch, Winnie?” I asked.

“Sure!” She grinned happily.

“Great. You can help me make it.” I held out my hand and she dropped her dad’s to take mine. Then I looked at Mack. “Can I bring you something? A sandwich? Soup?”

He looked guilty. “I’ll probably work through lunch.”

“You shouldn’t work through lunch,” my mother scolded. “Let Frannie bring you something.”

“That’s okay.” He gave me a tired smile and put a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks, though. For everything. You’re an angel.”

He was touching me. He’d called me an angel. I could hardly speak. “You’re welcome.”

Quickly, I turned and led Winnie out from behind the desk and across the lobby toward the stairs to my suite, so he wouldn’t see the goofy grin on my face.





*



I lived above the inn’s garage in an apartment my mother liked to refer to as the “old carriage house,” which made it sound bigger and fancier than it was. “Did you hear Mrs. Ingersoll broke her leg?” I asked Winnie.

“Yes,” she said, trudging up the stairs next to me. “What does it feel like to break your leg?”

“I don’t know.” I unlocked my door and pushed it open. “I’ve never had any broken bones.”

“Me neither,” she said as we went in.

My place wasn’t very big, but it was enough room for me. My bedroom and bathroom were off to the right, and the kitchen was open to the living room. I did have a tiny fireplace, which I loved, and my oversized couch was crazy comfortable.

“Need to use the bathroom?” I asked Winnie.

She shrugged off her backpack and dropped it to the floor. “No. Is this where you live?”