“I wouldn’t have been able to keep it up for very lo
ng. I only had to last about twelve hours, just so you know. If it was any longer, I would have caved,” she admitted with a grin as she stood up to head back to her office, and I believed her.
As I sat at my desk pretending to work for the last hour of the day, I was a mess inside, my emotions running in high gear. I couldn’t believe that Frank had actually broken up with his girlfriend. But why had he done it? Why now? Was I part of the reason? And could I live with myself if I was? What did this mean for us? Did he want there to be an us?
The second we walked through our front door at home, Britney grabbed a pen and one of our bank notepads that she’d accidentally on purpose brought home. “I’ll help you write the list.”
Confused, I squinted at her. Had I somehow missed a portion of our conversation?
“The list?”
“Of all the things we want to know,” she said matter-of-factly.
Then it dawned on me. “Oh, the list of questions for Frank.”
“What other list would there be?”
“Groceries?” I said, trying not to grin.
She laughed and waved her phone toward me. “Why would I make a grocery list when we shop from our app?”
I hadn’t really considered making a list, even after Frank had suggested it. He’d probably been kidding when he mentioned it, but it might be a good idea. It would be way too easy to be distracted and forget what I wanted to ask once we were together at the bar. Plus, my mind tended to wander, and I could jump from topic to topic without stopping to breathe. A list would be a good idea, a smart way to keep me on track.
“Anyway, I need to take a shower,” I told her. “I’ll think about my questions while I’m in there.”
I thought for a second that Britney might suggest writing the list together while I showered, and was grateful when she agreed to wait and headed into her room.
• • •
“You ready for this?” Britney asked with a smile that brightened her whole face as we walked toward the entrance to Sam’s. “I feel like we haven’t been here in years.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s been two weeks. Not even that long.”
“I know, but I love it here.”
“You just love looking at Ryan,” I said, calling her out, and she waggled her eyebrows.
“Can’t blame a girl for having a fish wish,” she said as she threw open the door and held it for me.
I scanned the room, searching for Frank in the sea of people. Knowing that he usually hung out in the back office, I was a little surprised when I saw him behind the bar, mixing a drink. His body language looked more confident than usual, his presence more commanding.
“Claudia!” Nick and Ryan both shouted at the same time.
When everyone in the bar turned their heads to look at me, my entire face flamed. I prayed my cheeks weren’t anywhere near as red as they felt.
Frank’s head shot up, his gorgeous green eyes meeting mine with a possessiveness I’d never seen from him before. Trying to keep my cheeks a normal color tonight was a moot point. If he looked at me like that all night, I’d probably spontaneously combust at some point. My entire body would go up in flames with the heat of that stare, and there wouldn’t be a damn thing I could do to stop it.
Britney nudged my shoulder with hers. “I’ll be at the bar making googly eyes at Ryan. Have fun with Frank. And don’t forget about the list.” She hurried over and grabbed the only available seat at the bar. Luckily for her, it was between a pair of good-looking guys.
Thank God she mentioned the list. I’d already forgotten all about it. Questions? What questions? This was exactly why I needed to write everything down. Frank and his sexy green eyes were more than a little distracting.
Not to mention the way he was currently carrying himself as he stalked toward me. This was a man on a mission. And from the look of him, I was said mission.
“You look beautiful. Thank you for coming.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my temple before placing his hand on the small of my back, leading me away from the bar and toward the tables.
A few whispers swirled in our wake, but I drowned them out with the mantra I was repeating in my head. Answers first, answers first, answers first.
A reserved sign held the table that Frank and I had sat at before, and he steered me toward it. He pulled out a chair for me and motioned for me to sit. As I situated myself, I looked around and frowned, realizing that it was a little more crowded than I would have liked. The conversation we needed to have was a private one, and there was no privacy here.