Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

“How long am I going to feel this way? When am I going to get bored?”

He lowered his mouth to hers and she felt him smile against her lips. “Never,” he murmured, “as long as I have anything to do with it.”

Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind a tiny part of her knew this was too good to be true; but what he was doing to her, what he was making her feel, drowned out the voice of anxiety. Swamped by sensation, she closed her eyes and went with the fairy tale.

Matt stood under the hard jet of the shower and closed his eyes. He would have dragged Frankie into the shower with him had it not been for the fact that he needed a few moments to pull himself together. He’d wanted her to open up to him, and she had. And the fact that she’d trusted him enough to do so had somehow deepened the intimacy. He’d been stunned by her response, but what had shocked him more was the strength of his own. He didn’t think his feelings for her could go any deeper, but it seemed he’d been wrong about that.

What would happen when they were back in New York? Back to their regular lives?

He wanted to freeze time and keep her here, insulated from the outside world. He was almost tempted to skip the wedding. He would happily have spent the rest of his life holed up in this cabin with Frankie. The rest of the world could go to hell as far as he was concerned.

“Matt—” Frankie stood in front of him, his phone in her hand “—it’s Ryan.”

Feeling guilty at being caught in the middle of contemplating ways of getting out of attending his friend’s wedding, Matt reached for a towel and took the phone from her.

Distracted by the tiny dip at the base of Frankie’s throat, he listened as his friend outlined the problem. “I’m sorry. That’s bad news.” Struggling to focus, he averted his eyes. “So you’re going to fly to the mainland? How long will that take? No, that’s no problem, we’ll wait here until you text us.” He ended the call and Frankie looked at him expectantly.

“What’s happened?”

He reached out and pulled her against him, kissing the smooth, pearl-like skin at the base of her throat. “We have another couple of hours in bed.”

“That sounds good.” She slid her arms around his neck. “Any particular reason?”

“Ryan and Emily have a mini wedding crisis.” He moved her hair to one side and kissed her neck, breathing in the scent of her. “The florist has appendicitis and was flown to the mainland in the night. Unfortunately, she took the key to the store with her so there is no way of getting the flowers. They’re delaying the wedding a couple of hours to give Zach time to fly across to the mainland and get the key.”

“It’s going to take hours to fly there, and what if she’s in surgery and they have to hang around?”

“I guess that’s a chance they’re going to have to take. They don’t have a lot of options.”

There was a protracted silence and then she eased away from him reluctantly and took a deep breath. “I’ll do the flowers.”

Knowing how much she hated weddings, it hadn’t even occurred to him to ask her. “You?”

“It’s their wedding day! They want it to be perfect. I’ll do it. Call Ryan back.” She stepped away, as if she didn’t trust herself not to change her mind. “If I can’t get access to the store, then I’m going to need to raid someone’s garden.”

“Frankie—” He knew that this was a big deal for her. Part of him wanted to explore the change in greater depth but they didn’t have the luxury of time. “Are you serious?”

“I never joke about weddings, Matt.” Her wry humor made him smile.

“In that case I’ll call Ryan back.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hungrily. “I hope he appreciates the sacrifice I’m making.”

“Stop distracting me!” She pushed at his chest. “Call him. And some clues as to what the bride is wearing would be good.”

Matt made the call, half his attention on his friend and half on Frankie. She ignored the green silk jumpsuit she’d already laid out on the bed and instead pulled on a pair of yoga pants that fitted her like a second skin.

Her hair was still damp from the shower she’d had before him, and she pulled it into a ponytail and grabbed her purse. “Well?”

“Ryan doesn’t know what she’s wearing. Apparently, it’s a closely guarded secret, but he thinks Brittany will know. And in the meantime Kirsti is sending out a text to all the islanders asking for access to their gardens. They have a system that they use in an emergency where they can text everyone. Islanders with flowers in their gardens are all responding to Ryan, and he’s emailing me a list so that you can take your pick.”

“You’re telling me the islanders are giving me permission to trespass on their property and pick their flowers?”

“That’s right.”

“Has he told them it’s me? Frankie Cole?”

“They know and I’m sure they’re just hoping you can fix this problem for Emily and Ryan. What do you need apart from flowers?”

“I don’t know—I—something to tie the flowers together. And I need to pack this wedding outfit because if I’m wearing yoga pants in the photos Eva and Paige will kill me.”