Frank merely throws his head back and laughs, flashing bright white teeth.
“No, it’s fine,” he chuckles. “The pots and pans can go anywhere. It’s no big deal.”
“Oh good,” I say with a sigh of relief. “I didn’t want to change your kitchen layout when I won’t be here long. At least I don’t think I’ll be here too long,” I amend before shooting a quick look at him. “Did my mom say how long my stay would be, by the way?”
Frank shakes his head.
“No idea. Your mom didn’t tell me. She didn’t tell you?”
I let out a quiet sigh, my shoulders drooping as I nod. “No, she didn’t tell me either because Patricia’s never been great at the whole ‘communication’ thing, I guess. Hell, maybe she doesn’t have a timeline, and you’re stuck with me for good,” I add in a rueful tone. To be honest, the thought of that would have bothered me a whole lot more yesterday, but now that I’ve met my uncle, I’m actually a little excited. OMG, that’s so wrong. Stop it, I tell myself sternly. Just stop with these X-rated thoughts.
I bite my lip as I slide a look at the handsome man. Frank looks contemplative, like he’s just taking in the situation. After all, he’s been saddled with his bad girl niece out of nowhere, and probably wants his bachelor life back. But then, a thought strikes. Did Patricia tell him why I was sent here in the first place? The whole situation makes me feel embarrassed now. I mean, the arson wasn’t my fault, but it kind of was too. I have to clear some things up.
“Um,” I manage. “Did my mom tell you what I was sent here for?”
Frank simply raises a black brow, and hope fills my chest. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I can start over as a good girl with an unblemished past, but then he nods.
“Something abut you setting fire to another girl’s locker?”
Despair lands on me like a boulder. Well, shit. I guess there will be no secrets and I sigh, frowning down at my half-eaten lasagne.
“It wasn’t really arson,” I say before pausing for a few moments. With another sigh, I roll my eyes and look at him again. “Okay. Maybe it was a little bit of arson—”
Frank chuckles.
“How do you commit a little arson?” he asks quizzically. I gulp, unconsciously wrapping my arms around my torso so that my big breasts are squeezed upwards.
“I mean, she stole something from me,” I explain in a squeaky voice. “Something precious so she deserved it. I set fire to her hair extensions as revenge, but I pulled the fire alarm before leaving, so no one was going to get hurt.”
He stares at me, amused.
“Her hair extensions?”
I nod.
“Yeah, she had a swarm of them in her locker and it was gross. Imagine seeing a giant hairball coughed up by your cat. It was like that, and it was super flammable. Don’t worry, they weren’t connected to her head when I lit them up.”
With that, Frank lets out a genuinely amused bark of laughter, but then he turns to me, those blue eyes glinting and fiery.
“Well, I’ll tell you right now, Hadley, hairball or not. If you ever set fire to my property, that pretty ass is going to get whupped,” he growls, his voice so deep that it sounds like a rumble of thunder. “I don’t care if there are extensions, cats, or if the hair is connected to your head. You’re going to get my hand on your ass, and trust me girl, you’ll be crying bloody murder by the time it’s over.”
My eyes widen, my lips part, and I just barely manage to catch myself before I can let out a moan. My cheeks are burning so hot that I’m scared they’ll catch fire any second now, and I can’t help but squirm in my seat as I try to find some composure. Oh god. Is Frank serious? The truth is that the image of his large, calloused hand coming down on my backside fills my mind with unbridled need, and my thighs squeeze together as my core heats. For some reason, I don’t find it repulsive. Quite the opposite, actually: I’d love it.
OMG, this is wrong. I’ve got to get out of this kitchen before I explode and a cold shower is in order. Abruptly, I stand as my chair scrapes noisily on the floor.
“Um yeah, I won’t be doing that, so don’t worry. But I’m full Uncle Frank, so if it’s okay with you, I’m just going to excuse myself.”
“Sure, no problem,” he nods carelessly, reaching for the salad once more, totally unbothered. “I’ve got to get up early again tomorrow so I’m going to bed soon too. Leave the dishes to me. You did the cooking, so I’ll do the cleaning.”