The Worst Best Man(89)

“If you’re lurking out here, Mr. McMitchem will get scared off. Here.” She disappeared for a moment and then returned, shoving a key at him. “We have a spare.”

He needed to get Franchesca into a building with better security. Her neighbors would happily welcome an AK-47 wielding bank robbery suspect inside.

But it would be more comfortable than sitting in the hall. He unlocked the door, returned the key, and went inside.

He was always struck by the contrast between his home and Frankie’s. Hers screamed lived in, if somewhat messily. There were dishes in the sink, mail on the table, and a lump of clean laundry on the floor just outside the kitchen as if she’d dug through the basket in search of a particular piece in a hurry.

With a ridiculous amount of gratitude, he noted she’d washed a pair of his sweats and a t-shirt. He changed out of his suit, thought about raiding her cabinets, and decided his headache would be better off with rest over food. He lay down on the couch and tried to put his brain to work on the problem at hand. He knew how it would go if Frankie knew what he’d done. How he’d pushed Chip into breaking up with Pruitt. And from comments Frankie had made, the breakup had been devastating to Pruitt.

How was he going to fix it all? It was his last thought as the dark and the quiet enveloped him.





Chapter Forty-Seven


He was sprawled on her couch, a pillow over his face, his t-shirt showing a sexy peek of abs above the low waistband of his sweatpants.

Frankie would have screamed when she walked through her front door, but there was no mistaking that gorgeous, god-like body for some stranger who broke in to rob and rape her. Aiden Kilbourn was her mysterious guest, and judging by his bleary eyes, he wasn’t here for sex.

“Hey,” she said softly.

He winced at the light and closed his eyes again. “Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. “What time is it?”

“Not quite 11.”

“Sorry for breaking in.”

“Seeing as how my door’s still intact, I imagine Mrs. Chu let you in,” Frankie said, brushing her fingers through his thick dark hair.

“You need better security.” He nuzzled his cheek against her hand, and Frankie melted on the inside.

“Headache?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Hang in there, tough guy.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and headed into the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water and two caplets. “I don’t have any of Pru’s good prescription stuff, but this is over-the-counter.”

He worked his way into a seated position, and she could see that it pained him.

“How was your night?” he asked her, downing the pills and water.

His hair was disheveled from sleep, the ends curled softly at his neck. How was it that arrogant and demanding Aiden could make her blood sing, but vulnerable, sweet Aiden turned her cold steely heart to mush?

“It was fine,” she lied. It hadn’t been fine. It had been a pain in the ass. And a bit of a culture shock to go from attending a huge charity function one week to working one the next. She felt as if she didn’t belong in either place now.

Perhaps she was two people too. Franchesca the entrepreneur’s girlfriend and Frankie the grad student from Brooklyn who sprinkled the f-bomb like fairy dust.

“How was your day?”

He pressed his fingers to his eyes, but she could still see the grimace.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She took his empty glass back to the kitchen and opened a can of Coke.

“I do. That’s why I came here.” Now he sounded just the slightest bit surly, and she found it endearing.

She handed the can over. “Here. Let’s double up on the caffeine.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Come on,” she said, gently tugging on his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“To bed.”

“I don’t know how well I’ll perform—”

“To sleep, Aide. Just to sleep. I promise not to jump your bones until you feel better.”

“Oh.”

She led him into the bedroom and tucked him in on his side of the big king bed. His side. He had a side in her bed, a drawer in her bathroom, and it was probably time he had a key too instead of depending on the kindness/nosiness of her neighbors.

Frankie brushed a kiss to his forehead. When she tried to move away, he grabbed her hand. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“Honey, I’m just going to change and then I’m coming to bed.”

“You’re probably not tired yet.”

She wasn’t. After running around like a fool for four hours feeding rude people and cleaning up their messes she was usually a little revved.

“I’m going to read in bed, right next to you.”

“Okay.” He pressed his face into his pillow.

God damn it. Vulnerable, needy Aiden was still sexy as fuck and all she wanted to do was bundle him up in a quilt and baby him until he felt better. It was making her feel weird in her chest area. Warm and… happy. She didn’t like it.

She took her time brushing her teeth and washing her face. When she came back into the bedroom in search of pajamas, he was asleep, a pillow pulled over his head.