— AUSTIN —
18. MOXIE
The soft sweep of fingertips traced over my eyebrow, around my eye, down my cheek, and then across my lips. The same delicate touch was mirrored on the other side of my face, and then the light press of lips against mine forced my eyes open.
Frankie. Staring back as she stayed pressed against me, tight in my embrace. I’d been awake for a while, but I was enjoying the adoring touch of her fingers too much to open my eyes and make it stop.
“I have to go,” she said reluctantly once she saw I was awake. “Pauly and Tommy are coming over for lunch to discuss putting the house on the market.” The curve of her smile had never looked so sweet, and her gray eyes were shiny, like molten silver, filled with anticipation. “I can’t wait to tell them about the contract. I can’t wait to tell them we don’t have to sell.”
I brushed back the tangled mess of hair that had fallen across her face. “It’s not even breakfast time. Lunch time is a long way off. Stay.”
Her chin tilted up. She kissed me quickly and sweetly again. “I know, but I have a few things to do before they get there. Besides,” she said, her smile swinging into a wry twist of her lips, “I don’t want Miss Rose to see me do the walk of shame. She’ll be outside working in her garden pretty soon.”
The gentle morning breeze blew Frankie’s hair over her face, and I tucked it behind her ear, my fingers skimming along her jaw, lifting her chin so that I could kiss her again. “So, you’re ashamed of me now?”
Frankie snorted. “Well, someone shredded my panties, and I’m pretty sure my hair is doing its best impression of cotton candy right now. It looks like I’ve been thrown into a pool, fucked on a lounge chair, and then left outside naked with nothing but a towel and my sexy neighbor for cover.” She quirked an eyebrow at me, and I grinned smugly back at her.
“You might look like you were fucked on a lounge chair, but I’m pretty sure ninety percent of what happened in that chair was making love.”
Her other eyebrow lifted, and when she opened her mouth, I was certain she was going to comment about my cheesy line. I used a hand to cover her mouth. “It might have felt like fucking, but it was more than that.” I ran the pad of my thumb across her lip and then leaned in to kiss her.
The kiss was just getting heated with a promise of a repeat of last night when I slapped her ass. “Better get going, hot lips.”
She pulled back, looking at me haughtily. “Do you have a death wish?” she snapped.
“Just getting your attention.” My hand smoothed over the spot where I’d just spanked her, and even though she was still glaring at me, she was pliant and willing when I pulled her hips against mine. “I figured you might want to get going since you have a bit of a mess to clean up in your room before your brothers get here.”
Her glare wanted to turn into a smile, but she held on to her annoyance better than I’d expected. She poked her finger into my chest. “I’m going to get you back so good,” she threatened. Then she stood up, whipping the towel off me before she wrapped it around her nearly naked body. She stared down at me, grinning at the sight of my swim trunks that were still tangled halfway down my legs. “Better get inside quick, Stone. Wouldn’t want Miss Rose to catch you out here with your pants down.”
I reached for her, but she danced out of my grasp, grinning maniacally, just like she used to. “Come over for lunch,” she begged. “Don’t make me suffer through Tommy and Pauly all by myself.” She stuck out her bottom lip, and pressed her hands together in a pleading motion.
I busied myself with pulling my pants up and said, “What time?”
She lifted a shoulder. “If you see them here, just pop on over. Or you could come early if you want.” She said it offhandedly, but I could sense the eagerness and nervousness in her voice.
“I’ll be there,” I promised.
She grinned and then took the few steps separating us to kiss me on the forehead. “Thanks, Austin.” Then she spun around and jogged back to her own house, leaving my gate swinging closed behind her.
As I watched her go, I felt contentment spread through me as I remembered what she’d said last night—she didn’t have to sell the house, and she had a contract with Under Armour. She wanted to stay. We could have a second chance.
I still wanted to know what she was keeping secret, but I was positive that no matter what it was, we could get past it. Having a second chance didn’t mean that you would just fix things and make them right. The beauty of a second chance was that things could be better than they were before. Mistakes made you stronger. Loss made the things you wanted matter more.
I had a feeling that whatever it was that Frankie still needed to tell me, it would be something that would bring us closer. I’d thought that her betrayal had broken things between us, but it was becoming clear that it wasn’t broken, just twisted. We would unravel it and straighten it all out. Because Frankie and I were meant to be together.
Everything I’d discovered about what she had been doing the last four years only made me love her more. As Pauly had said, Frankie had her reasons for her choices, and whatever reasons those were, I was confident they had everything to do with protecting those she loved. And whatever else I felt, I couldn’t fault her for that.
I could be patient. I could wait for the truth. We had forever to get things right, and we would get it right because we loved one another. I was certain of that now. I felt it even stronger now than I had before. I’d never stopped loving her, even though I’d tried, and it had become clear that falling out of love with Frankie was impossible. Falling more in love with her was the only choice I’d ever had.
I watched her go, knowing that a piece of my soul went with her. I‘d heard the term soulmates before, but it wasn’t until this moment that I understood it. That I felt like I wouldn’t be whole until she returned and that piece of my soul that I’d surrendered to her was connected with me again.
Frankie DiGorgio owned me. And I was only too happy to let her.
***
Twisting the key in the lock, I heard the definitive click of metal sliding free. When I pushed the door open, in a way it felt like I was opening a new path into my future.
I stood in the empty foyer watching dust motes dancing in the beams of sunlight that lanced through the space and created patches of light on the floor. I walked forward, running my hand along the old wooden counter that was worn from the hands of so many customers. There was dust everywhere, but I could still smell the lingering scent of ink and paper, and the entire place felt like home in a way that my dressing room in Vegas never had.
The old shelves that lined the walls were empty and drab, but I could imagine what it would look like when I was all done. The Penny Dreadful would be my labor of love.
I took a deep breath and had to chuckle at the sudden realization that I’d likely be hiring Andrew Weatherby to rehab the Penny for me. He’d done a great job on Frankie’s house, and now that I knew he wasn’t planning on a repeat of his ninth-grade date with her, I could admit he was a good guy. And I needed his help if I was going to get this store up and running anytime soon.
I strolled around the space, making plans about where I’d put the graphic novels, the music section, the magazines, and the collectibles. Ever since I found out that the old comic book store I had frequented as a kid went out of business, I knew how I wanted to spend the rest of my future—sharing my love of comic books and music with the next generation. I’d even bought the old bakery next door and had plans to open up the wall between the shops so that there would be a cafe where people could read and chat for hours.
Reaching the front of the store, I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes, imagining what Dallas would say about my plans. No doubt he would have teased me over my continued obsession with comics and collectibles, but he also would have been the first person in my shop every day, hanging out at the cafe to talk music with friends or tease Frankie about whatever new endorsement ad she had that was in the latest magazine.
I grinned, imagining Frankie’s ads in my store. In the magazines on my shelves. It would be perfect. Whatever detours we’d taken to get to this place, this new life with her—it would be worth it.
I reached into my back pocket for my phone, wanting to call Frankie and ask her to come see the store, but came up empty handed. In my rush to get to the realtor’s office, I must have left my phone at home. But then I remembered that Frankie was hosting lunch for her brothers so she wouldn’t have been able to come right now anyway.
Tonight. I could bring her back tonight and show her.
Pushing off the counter, I gave the space one more look before I closed the door and locked up.
***
I pulled into my driveway and parked my car, leaning over the center console for the bottle of wine I’d picked up on my way home. Wine would be a little out of place for lunch at the DiGorgio’s, but I felt like we had to celebrate Frankie’s new endorsement and all the other good news that would come—debts paid, therapy for Nana, and the fact that the house wouldn’t need to be sold.
Sure, Frankie had ties in Texas at the track where she worked, but now that she didn’t have to sell the house, she would want to come home. She could bring Nana with her. Baltimore had some of the best medical facilities in the country.
As I cut through my yard on my way next door, I noticed there were three cars in Frankie’s driveway in addition to hers. I wondered who else, besides Tommy and Pauly, was coming to lunch.
I jogged up the front steps and was sad to see that the old carving in the wood had been replaced when Andrew redid the front porch. I told myself it didn’t matter. That new memories would be made, and new mementos would find their way into the house.
I knocked on the door, and when Pauly opened it, he looked at me as if I’d shown up to my own surprise party before the guests had arrived. I had the distinct impression that not only was I not expected, but that I wasn’t wanted either.
Well, he’d just have to get over it. Frankie had invited me.
“Hey, Pauly,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder, squeezing past him to walk inside. “I hope you didn’t eat all the food yet.”
I looked around the room to see not only Tommy and Pauly, but Jimmy, Jimmy’s wife Beth, and two small children gathered in the living room. It looked like they were ready to go somewhere.
“I, uh…” I reached up to run my hand back through my hair. “I feel like I’m interrupting something.” I looked between Frankie’s brothers, but they were all staring at me with jaws clenched, casting nervous glances at each other.
“We were just going out to eat,” said a small, high-pitched voice.
My gaze fell to a small girl with messy pigtails and bright blue eyes. It looked as if someone had tried to dress her up because she was wearing a pink, ruffled skirt and delicate white top, but the bows in her hair were knocked askew, and she had dirt on her nose and a scrape on her knee that looked like it was fresh. She was standing next to a boy who was maybe a year older than her.
The boy resembled the girl a little, but he had brown eyes, just like all the other DiGorgio men. The boy was wearing a nice outfit too, as if he was ready to go to church. One look at him and the girl and I had the impression that they’d been outside wrestling or getting into trouble because they both were covered in grass stains and dirt.
They must take after their Aunt Frankie.
I lifted my eyes to look at Frankie’s brothers again. “Oh. Frankie invited me to come over for lunch. I hadn’t realized the plans had changed.”
All four adults continued to stare at me in silence, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had interrupted something very important.
“Found it!” Frankie yelled, breaking the silence.
We all looked up to see her hurry to the opening at the top of the stairs, her phone in hand. She seemed out of breath and anxious.
“I tried calling Austin,” she said, staring at the phone and tapping at the screen with her thumbs while she chewed nervously on her bottom lip, “but he didn’t answer. Let me try again…he always has his phone.” After a few taps, she lifted the phone to her ear, biting her thumbnail as she stared at the floor.
Somewhere, my phone was ringing, waiting for Frankie’s message. I still didn’t know where I’d left it, and I hadn’t bothered to go home to look for it before I came over.
“You should all go to the restaurant before he gets here. I need to talk to him first, alone.” She was pacing as she listened to the phone ring. I could tell the moment my voicemail kicked in because she growled in frustration and she closed her eyes as her head tilted back and her body tensed with worry. “I haven’t had a chance to explain and tell him the truth. He’s going to hate me. I need to find him and...” She finally dropped her chin and opened her eyes, her tirade coming to a halt when she met my gaze.
A trickle of nerves made my heart race at the way she was unraveling, at the way she said “the truth,” as if everything she’d said and done since coming home was less than the truth. A lie.
I’d begun to think that I could handle whatever secrets she was hiding, that together we could overcome anything. But her worry forced all the worst possible scenarios that I’d ever thought up back into the forefront of my thoughts.
“You found me,” I said, holding my hands out to the side as if to say, “Ta da!”
She didn’t answer.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, approaching the stairs.
Frankie’s face looked completely crestfallen, and she hurried down the steps while trying to get her emotions under control. She was in front of me within seconds, reaching out like she was going to touch me and then drew her hand back.
“Austin.” Her voice cracked. She licked her lips and took a deep breath, the corners of her mouth quivering like they wanted to drop into a frown. “Austin, I…” Large tears squeezed out of her eyes, clinging to her lashes for a brief second before plunging down the curves of her cheeks.
I reached up to wipe the wetness away, and then that small voice was speaking again. “Why are you crying, Mama?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the messy pigtails hovering just below my waist, and I looked down in time to see the girl slide her tiny hand into Frankie’s. The flick of my eyes back up to Frankie’s couldn’t have been more than a second, but I felt all my dreams of the future teetering precariously.
“Mama?” I repeated, taking a step back. What did this mean? Did she have a boyfriend? Or worse, a husband? Was that the reason she left Vegas? Is that why she couldn’t come home? Because she started a life, a family, with someone else?
A sob that was so unlike Frankie tore out of her throat. She tried to hold it back, but once she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Fresh tears streamed down her face.
“This is Moxie,” she said through broken words, lifting her hand to indicate the girl next to her. “She’s…she’s our daughter.”