Blazing Hotter (Love Under Fire Book 2) (7 page)

“Sure did, but I’m afraid a forty caliber might be a bit much for you to handle with your injuries. I also threw in my nine millimeter. It wouldn’t hurt to have them both.” Big Frank nodded in Cassie’s direction. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“No, sir,” Cassie replied. “I’ve never been around a gun in my life.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I made an appointment for you both out at the shooting range tomorrow morning at nine.”

Cassie’s weight shifted behind Frankie and he had the feeling she shook her head.

“I have to work,” she protested. “I can’t just blow people off that need my help.”

Frankie looked up at her, tugging her hand to get her attention. “This is important. Tomorrow’s Friday anyway and you take the weekends off. Call in and let your clients know you can’t come. I’m sure by Monday we’ll figure this all out, but right now, I need to know you can take care of yourself if someone comes into this house.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed and worry lines creased her forehead. “I’m scared, Frank.” Her thumb stroked against the inside of his palm. “I didn’t know that I look like that guy’s victims.”

He pulled her hand to his face, tucking it between his cheek and shoulder, trying to give her support without being overbearing. “We could go to the cops right now, let them handle it. If you don’t think it’s your doctor, there’s really no reason to wait.”

She let out a long breath but then shook her head. “Set up all the security stuff with your dad. I’ll go call off work. We’ll spend tomorrow seeing if we can figure out who the woman is that sent the flowers and talk to her. If that still doesn’t lead us to Kenneth, we’ll go to the cops.”

“What about the firing range?” Frankie asked. “I told you I needed to go practice, but I really think you should too. I’ll use my dad’s gun and you can learn on mine.”

Her eyes opened, the clear blue rimmed with red as though she tried not to cry. “Sure. A single woman should know how to protect herself.” She slid her hand away from his face slowly. “If you boys need anything, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll fix dinner while you work on this. How long will it take?”

Big Frank shrugged. “Probably an hour or so.”

She looked back at Frankie. “You’re okay to help him? I mean, do you need me or...?”

She trailed off and Frankie had the impression she didn’t want to point out that he might be a liability to his father, considering his limitations. However, her front patio had no steps up to it and the cement landing spread around the entire front of the house. Although her patio furniture might get in his way a bit, Frankie was sure he could use his legs and one good hand to help scoot himself around. He’d never tried that before, but earlier in the day he’d been convinced he couldn’t stand. It was time to test his limits instead of saying he couldn’t do something without even trying.

If he could move along the patio, he’d be a big help to his dad. He could run wires and hold tools, almost the same as he used to do when he was a kid helping with home improvement projects.

“We’ll be fine, Cass,” he promised. “But I think we’ll work up an appetite, so I hope you have plenty of food. Besides, I’m sick of hospital slop. I hope you’re a good cook.”

That brought a real smile to her face. “Is that the only reason you wanted to help me?”

“Maybe.” He winked. “There’s something to be said about a woman who can cook.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to excite you. Your taste buds, I mean.” She crossed the yard toward the house, unlocking the door.

Frankie couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn to her hips when she moved. She’d featured in plenty of fantasies for him lately, but she was always simply on top of him. He’d never really noticed how damn sexy the woman was when she walked.

As Cassie disappeared into the house, his dad let out a low whistle. “That one seems like a firecracker. Scared out of her mind and still able to flip you shit. You sure you can handle that much heat?”

Frankie grinned. “For the first time since the fire, Dad, I’m looking forward to the heat.”

C
assie had rosemary roasted potatoes and lemon chicken finally in the oven. It had been quite a challenge, what with the guys coming in and out of the house, flipping the breaker to turn off all power while they wired the lights and cameras, and the general chaos associated with having people in her house when Cassie was used to being alone. Her house was her sanctuary, now an invaded sanctuary with no peace for her.

Granted, she appreciated the fact that the invaders were trying to protect her from possible harm. The alternative would be much worse.

Setting a timer to remind her to turn the potato slices halfway through cooking, Cassie then kicked off her shoes and padded from the kitchen to her living room. Sitting down in her overstuffed recliner, she took a moment to breathe, trying not to think about anything else. Everything had happened so quickly after the flowers were delivered, what with Frankie taking charge and telling her what she should do, that Cassie hadn’t had a lot of time to absorb the situation.

First things first, she had to figure out who had ordered the flower delivery. That would be the key to learning whether Kenneth Morgan was behind them or if she should worry about someone more sinister... like a murderer.

Cassie grabbed her laptop off its spot on a nearby end table, opening it up and linking to the internet. She didn’t know much about strippers or the strip clubs in town. It was entirely possible that Tammy at The Flower Shoppe was a judgmental woman who had berated some poor woman for having a naturally large chest. On the other hand, maybe Tammy visited the nightclubs and had actually seen the blonde perform but didn’t want to admit it.

“Only one way to find out.”

Cassie did a search on strip clubs in Sayle, Washington. Within a few heartbeats, a new page loaded onto the screen, showing a map with two addresses pinpointed on opposite sides of town.

The link for ‘Benny’s Bootylicious Bimbos’ was most prominently displayed, so she clicked on it.

“How many bleached blond bootylicious bimbos with huge boobs could there be?” She chuckled at her alliteration and searched the page for a list of performers.

Luckily, Benny was proud of his bimbos. Each dancer had a profile page with a picture and information about the performer, including likes and dislikes, and what she looked for in a man. Of course, it was probably all made up information designed to inspire male lust—and a subsequent parting of horny men from their money—but the pictures of the performers were likely actually the women working there. After all, if a guy went to the club just to see Meghan Mega-Tits and she never danced, eventually the place would lose money.

The only drawback to her idea of looking for the woman was how many of the workers at Benny’s were blond. In looking at the list of twenty performers, eleven of them had blond hair. Remembering that Tammy said her boobs looked way too big for her body, Cassie tried to weed the women further by that criteria. In the end, there were still seven girls with blond hair and huge breasts.

With a sigh, Cassie used her cell phone to snap a shot of each woman’s picture. Maybe Tammy could still pick the right one out of a lineup.

With stops to check on dinner and a thorough search of the second strip club—more discretely named Guy’s Nite Out—Cassie had a total of twelve pictures. Twelve blondes done up in makeup, wearing lingerie, and all with bigger than average chests. How in the world was she supposed to figure out which one was the correct woman? Even if she showed these pictures to the florist, Cassie had high doubts the guilty party went in looking like she did in these glamor shots. It would call too much attention to her.

When someone delivered a threatening letter, Cassie thought it was a fair guess that they didn’t want to be remembered.

The front door opened, pulling Cassie’s attention from the computer. Big Frank helped push Frankie over the ledge of the doorway, taking his chair to the center of the room before turning back to shut the door.

Frankie looked around, open curiosity on his face. “Nice place.” He took in the lack of furnishings in the living room other than Cassie’s lounge chair and a small loveseat. “I take it you don’t entertain much?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “I think you and your father are the first people to come into my house other than my brother and nephew. Mostly, I visit at their place and babysit Aaron over there, so I don’t need a lot of furnishing.”

“There’s just one problem with that.” Frankie eyed the small loveseat. “I thought I’d sleep on your couch. I hope you have a guest room.”

Well, crap. She knew there would be issues having Frankie stay at her house, but she hadn’t thought it through. Of course, he couldn’t sleep on the tiny sofa. He needed to stretch out at night and relax his muscles. Not squeeze himself into a semi-folded position.

“I’ll take the couch,” she said.

To her surprise, Frankie shook his head. “If someone busts in here in the middle of the night and you’re the first person they encounter, how would I protect you, exactly?”

Big Frank let out a heavy sigh. “Seriously, you two. You aren’t children. Share Cassie’s bed and keep a loaded gun on the nightstand. Even if you’re just friends, or so you say, I’m sure you’re mature enough to share a bed.”

Cassie felt heat rush to her face as she imagined what all they could do in her bed, but was slightly less mortified to note that Frankie’s cheeks colored as well. “Let’s figure that out later,” she decided. “Are you guys hungry? The chicken is resting. All I need to do is pull the salad out of the fridge and we can eat.”

“It smells delicious,” Frankie said, his eyes holding hers.

A hunger that Cassie was sure had nothing to do with chicken was plain to see behind his brown-eyed gaze, but she tried to ignore it. The bed situation might be a tricky one to resolve. Maybe she could sleep on the floor in the same room as him. That would make it harder for her to jump him in the middle of the night.

“Let’s get washed up, Frankie,” Big Frank said. “Is the bathroom down that hallway?”

Cassie nodded. “The door on the left.”

Of course, going there would put them directly across from her bedroom and able to stare in at her bed. She should have closed the door, but if Frankie shared the room tonight, she’d have to get used to the idea that he would invade every space in the house, not just her living room and kitchen.

She tapped her smartphone to put it to sleep and closed the laptop, stretching before setting the computer aside and heading back to the kitchen. Last week at his birthday party, Laura had cut up Frankie’s food before giving him the plate, and Cassie realized that was a good idea. Hopefully, he didn’t take offense at it now that he was trying to do more on his own, but she feared he needed to slow down soon. It was one thing to decide he could use his hand and legs again. It was another to do so much the first day that he wouldn’t be able to move tomorrow.

By the time she finished cutting up the meat, the men already sat around the table. Big Frank had moved a chair away to scoot Frankie’s wheelchair to the place setting Cassie had set at the head of the table.

Cassie set plates of food in front of both men, each with the chicken cut into bite-sized pieces. Neither of them said anything about it, but Frankie’s smile grew large and he gave an exaggerated sniff.

“Smells divine, Cass. I should have found a way to come to your house a long time ago.”

She shook her head, going back to the kitchen for her plate and the pitcher of water before rejoining the men.

Big Frank took the pitcher from her. “Let me handle that, since you’ve done everything else.”

“Thanks.” She sat down, watching as he filled the glasses she’d set out earlier. “If you want something else to drink, there’s some orange juice in there, and I think there might be a couple cans of soda left.”

“Water’s great,” Big Frank said, sliding a glass across to her. “I don’t get a lot of home cooking since Elise moved. Thanks for this.”

“Just don’t get used to it, you guys.” Cassie winked at Frankie. “If my life wasn’t in danger, I would have never let you over here.”

Frankie’s right hand moved across the table, inching toward her. “You mean my company wouldn’t be enough for you?”

Cassie sighed and looked down at her plate. She wasn’t sure how to answer that. True, she found Frankie incredibly attractive, even more so now that he was fighting again. But she knew herself. She lost interest in men quickly. None of them seemed to be worth much beyond a few dates. She’d always been career oriented, so hadn’t worried about that overly much beyond the way she was losing friends lately.

It couldn’t happen, no matter how much his brown eyes seemed to beckon to her. If she started something with Frankie, it might crush him if she moved on after a couple weeks. After all, the man had barely found the strength to leave the rehab center. She needed to get things back on a friendship footing, no matter how much she’d slipped up by letting it go beyond that today.

“You’re company’s great,” she said, smiling softly. “But we’re friends and that’s it.”

“For now,” he countered, staring at his plate with a smug grin spread across his handsome face.

It was no use. He obviously didn’t take her warnings to heart and fighting with him wasn’t an option. She’d have to keep pushing away when he tried to get close. Eventually, he’d get the picture, but in the meantime, he was making leaps and bounds toward getting better. She couldn’t take that from him.

***

F
lirting with Cassie while they ate was a heck of a lot better than thinking about his mom and dad’s pending divorce. Divorce! Frankie couldn’t believe it. He knew his mother had a hard time accepting his injuries, but he hadn’t known she’d lost so much faith in her religion.

As a devout Catholic, his mom had always believed with her whole heart, thrusting that belief down the throats of her reluctant husband and son. She didn’t believe in divorce at all. Despite the acceptance of it by the church, to his mom divorce was a sin that would land a person in hell. And adultery? Frankie nearly fell out of his chair when his father admitted that his mom had a boyfriend and Big Frank had also started dating—before the divorce was final.