Frankie's Back in Town (14 page)

She gave an outraged laugh. “That’s not funny.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re not normal, and that’s very funny.”

“You find me amusing?”

There was something in his voice, something serious, and she turned to face him, to find an intensity in his face that made her breath flutter hard.

“Not amusing.” There was nothing whatsoever amusing about the effect this man was having on her.

“Good. Because I was going more for interested, Francesca. Interested in me enough to want to get to know me.”

Every cell in her body melted. She just stood there, drowning in the earnestness she saw in his eyes.

He reached out and brushed the hair off her cheek with his fingertips, a simple gesture that made her heartbeat stall in her chest. “I want to know you better.”

This man was fire,
fire.

Reality check.

“I’m involved in your investigation. What about conflict?”

“You’re different.”

She shook her head, denial winning over curiosity. “I’m not.”

“You are, because I know you’re not guilty. Just a matter of proving it.”

“Jack, please—”

“I need to clear up this case fast. It’s in the way of us getting to know each other better. I’d hope you feel the same.”

Breathe, Francesca. Breathe.

But a deep breath only cleared her head enough to realize she was behaving ridiculously. Her heart pounded. Her knees felt weak. Her every brain cell had stubbornly wrapped around the fact that this man wanted to get to know her better, wanted her to want to know him.

And with his dark gaze caressing her, his expression inviting, Francesca couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

She must be concussed. She had to be. Why else would she be reacting to Jack in this purely physical way, a way that melted all the years of sanity that had proven this fluttery, wildly attracted feeling wasn’t real. Couldn’t possibly be real. And even if it was, it would only last an
instant before life got in the way and reality blotted out any and all hint of romance.

She literally had to bite back a smile that would only encourage him. She could practically hear the fifteen-year-old wisdom pouring from Gabrielle’s mouth.

Snap out of it, crazy woman.

Jack, though, looked very content with her response. Of course he’d be used to women getting stupid around him. He’d know all the telltale signs.

That
energized her.

“Jack, I—” She what? She had to stop this right now.
Before
she got sucked in. “I have a teenage daughter. I can’t get involved in a casual relationship. I just can’t.”

For a moment he only stared. Then all the
pleased
faded.

“You think I’m looking for casual.” It wasn’t a question, and something about him seemed so surprised.

Why, oh, why was he putting this between them? Why couldn’t they keep dancing around their chemistry? They were so much safer that way.

“I have no clue, Jack. I do know that we’re in two different places in life. Add this investigation, the fact that I’m who I am and you are who you are. Since you’re being so honest with me, I want to be honest with you back.”

Not really. She wanted denial.

“I won’t deny that I find you very attractive.”

He’d know she was lying if she denied that.

“I like you. And I completely appreciate all your help. Not only with the investigation but tonight.”

“But?” he asked, and she couldn’t read his reaction. His law-enforcement face was on big-time.

“But I’m a mother. You’re a single man, a serially single man from all accounts. Not that there’s anything wrong with being single. There isn’t. But I have a lot of responsibilities and not a whole lot of time to juggle them. My
daughter. My grandmother. And my job that supports all of us.”

“You don’t think I understand your responsibilities?”

“No, that’s not it. Well, yes. I guess it is. The family part, anyway.” She exhaled heavily. “You’re the police chief, Jack. I know you understand responsibilities and what it’s like to be busy. But my life is my family. I’m living on borrowed time with my daughter and my grandmother. I can’t fit anything else on my plate right now. I just can’t.” She was babbling and she knew it, so she shut her mouth and waited.

“Okay, Francesca” was all he said, so anticlimatic. “You’ve been honest and I appreciate that.”

Then he flipped the collar of her coat beneath her chin and said, “So where’s the wood? Or do I have to take down that tree in your front yard?”

“No, no. I’ll show you.” Francesca beat a hasty retreat, coward that she was. Heading into the mudroom, she made a move to grab a log, but Jack stopped her.

“I got it. Just show me where to go.”

She retraced her steps to the family room. He glanced at the fireplace then turned to her. She met his gaze, tried not to look expectant, knew she did.

Then just a hint of a smile. “You sit right there on that couch. I mean it. You’re supposed to be resting.”

She sank onto the sofa, unwilling to admit that she was utterly exhausted. Physically
and
emotionally. Wrapping an afghan around her, she tucked her knees close and wriggled into the cushions to collect herself, which might be impossible with this absolutely handsome, completely forbidden man waiting on her.

This was all Nonna’s fault. If she hadn’t started up all the craziness about Jack being a
bachelor,
she wouldn’t have gotten Francesca thinking about him as a man. She
might have been fascinated by how attractive he was with the tongue-tied sort of fascination she should have exorcised in high school.

She wouldn’t be here short of breath, remembering how it felt to be wrapped all around him, listening to his deep breathing, feeling his heart pound. She wouldn’t still be imagining his strong arms cradling her, and wondering how his mouth might feel on hers.

That
was Nonna’s fault, too.

F
RANCESCA REFUSED TO OPEN
her mouth again until her wayward emotions were under control. She forced her attention off Jack, who moved with efficient movements as he got a fire blazing. The television sat in the corner, along with Gabrielle’s boom box. But the room’s focal point was the fireplace, so the warmth radiated through the seating area quickly.

That heat radiated through her, too. Suddenly she could feel the physical effects of the day and a few sleepless nights bearing down on her as adrenaline ebbed.

“You’ll need to stay down here close to the fire.” Jack stood and turned to her. “Pillows and blankets?”

“I’ll get—”

“You’ll stay right where you are.”

“Closet in the hallway beside the basement door. If you get to the bathroom, you’ve gone too far.” She simply didn’t have the energy to argue.

Jack disappeared and reappeared again with an armful of blankets. He made up a serviceable bed on the other sofa that created a comfortable conversation pit before the fireplace.

Then he came to stare down at her. “I need to make a bed where you are, and you need to get out of those frozen clothes.”

No argument there. Her clothes had dried long ago, but
they were still stiff and chilly beneath her equally trashed coat. “I’m too comfortable.”

“You’ll be even more comfortable after you change and I bundle you up. I can even make you something hot to drink. Whatever you have—tea? Cocoa?”

“Coffee.”

He shook his head, and the firelight cast copper glints in his hair. “No coffee. You need to rest.”

“I had no idea you were such a bully.” She gave a huff. “You’ve always been so polite when you came by the lodge.”

“Official visits.”

She tried to sit up, but even the effort of lifting her head proved too much. The sofa was much too warm and comfortable. She closed her eyes instead, tried to absorb the heat from the fireplace. “I shouldn’t have sat down.”

“Okay, let’s try this. Tell me what you need, and I’ll bring it to you.”

“No, no, that’s silly. I’m fine.”

“Do you realize how often you say that? Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

That
got her attention, and she opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her.

“I’ll help get you settled.”

All this help. Who knew that lots of help could be as annoying as no help at all? But the thought of him poking around in her pajama drawer proved too much. Pajamas made her think of sleep. Sleep made her think of beds….

Throwing off the afghan, she forced herself to her feet, didn’t resist when he took her elbow to help her. “You should change, too. Nonna won’t have anything to fit you.”

“Don’t worry about me. I keep a change of clothes in the car. Never know when I’ll be pulling an all-nighter.”

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. He was fore
sighted and prepared, unwilling to let little obstacles get in the way of his work. She could appreciate that.

She could also appreciate how attentive he was, slipping the coat from her shoulders and casually resting a hand on her waist to steer toward the stairs. His hand was light, guiding, but she could feel his touch through her blouse, was so intensely aware of such a small touch.

Of course Jack probably thought she’d fall on her face without his help, and as much as it pained her to admit it, she couldn’t blame him. She was a sight after the night’s travails, and not a pleasant one.

“It’s freezing up here.” The cold air blasted her when she stepped onto the second-floor landing.

“Be quick then. I’ll wait here.”

What Francesca really wanted was a steaming hot shower to thaw her out. But the very thought of being naked anywhere close to that man gave her palpitations. And as tired as she was, she’d probably drown, and invite another gallant rescue…

Snap out of it, crazy woman!

“I won’t be long.” She glanced at him, smiled to let him know how much she appreciated his help. The expression of a mature, responsible woman who could easily handle an innocent night spent with an attractive man.

“I’ll be right here. Tell me if you need anything.”

She kept on smiling as she escaped into her bedroom, where she changed into warm sweats then washed her face, brushed her teeth and grabbed the comforter and pillow off her bed. She reappeared on the landing in five minutes flat.

“Impressive.” Jack took the comforter before stepping aside to let her precede him on the stairs.

“The lure of that fire.”

“Still feeling okay?” he asked. “How’s your head?”

“Pounding. But I’m okay. I’m tired.”

Then he was settling her on the sofa, puffing the pillow behind her head, pulling the comforter beneath her chin. The warmth of this room stole through her immediately, and she nestled into her toasty nest with a sigh, feeling cared for in a way she couldn’t ever remember feeling before.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice a whisper above the crackle of the burning logs. “I really do appreciate you saving my life and rescuing me from the hospital.”

“Wish I saved you from the broken furnace, too.”

“You did. Maybe not like you wanted.”

He only chuckled. Francesca could barely keep her eyes open, but didn’t have the energy to resist the drowsy, delicious feeling he inspired.

“Make yourself at home.” She forced the words out thickly, and the last thing she heard was the sound of his laughter.

The next time she opened her eyes, the house was filled with the heavy quiet of the late night. The wood snapped and popped in the fireplace, and she blinked her eyes to focus to find out what had awakened her.

Jack.

He was crouched before the fire, adjusting the logs with a poker, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, so different from the man who looked so stylish in his suits or so very impressive in his uniform. Through heavy eyes, Francesca watched him.

He moved with an economy of motion, smooth and physical. She’d have known he was athletic even if she hadn’t been aware of his stint as a football jock. The firelight burnished his hair, formed a halo around those shoulders so straight and broad. How could he seem to be everything she would choose in a man if she were choosing—gorgeous, driven, capable, thoughtful—as well as everything she wouldn’t choose?

Was he just a charming rogue who could easily read what would impress her? Had he guessed she was a woman who’d spent too many years with a husband who hadn’t paid attention to her, didn’t value her because he didn’t want to be burdened with the realities of marriage good, bad or otherwise?

Or was this just Jack, not a charming rogue, but a charming gentleman? A man who paid attention to what she had to say because he was interested. A man who was easy to be around because he valued the ups and downs of life rather than viewing every single thing as a stress or a pressure.

Francesca wasn’t sure when Jack knew she’d awakened, but when he turned, he said, “It’s snowing again.”

His voice was a husky murmur in the quiet, a sound that shouldn’t sound quite so delicious, but did.

She had no reply, still hadn’t relinquished slumber, so she watched as he stretched out on the other sofa and pulled a blanket to his waist. She faced him across the expanse of Nonna’s coffee table.

“Feeling any better?” he asked.

“Mmm-hmm.” She tested the sound in her throat.

“You should go back to sleep. It’s almost morning.”

She’d known, and not because she could see the clock on the mantle. She could hear the lateness in the quiet, feel it in the sleepiness of her muscles.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

Francesca considered him a moment longer, wondered if he’d slept at all. “Will you tell me about the updates on the case?”

He didn’t reply for so long she thought he’d sidestep her question about “business” again.

“Anything good at all?” she prompted.

“I cleared most of your staff.”

“That is good.” Francesca let her eyes drift shut and exhaled a contented sigh. She should ask the most obvious question, and she would. But not too quickly. Not when she was so content to sit here, sleepy in the warm darkness, with Jack and the fire and the quiet.

“Most, but not all?” she finally asked, still avoiding the illustrious question.

“Afraid not.”

She steeled herself and, knowing she wouldn’t like the answer, asked the illustrious question. “Who didn’t make the cut?”

“You and Susanna.” He sounded resigned and regretful, not at all like the chief of police. Or maybe that was because he occupied a sofa in her living room, an attractive display of long legs and sleep-tousled hair.

Which was precisely why she wouldn’t open her eyes. “Great. The town good girl versus the town bad girl. And I’m already down in the polls.”

“Francesca—”

“You have some work to do then, Jack.” She finally faced him. “Because I don’t think Susanna’s a thief. And I know I’m not.”

His gaze held hers steadily, but there was something in his expression, she wasn’t sure exactly what, but that something convinced her he took what she said seriously.

“I’ll find out what’s going on. I have a vested interest in both of you.”

She wasn’t exactly reassured. Susanna was a friend of Jack’s from way back. If only two of them were left on the suspect list, would he be forced to choose?

Francesca didn’t think so. Maybe she was way off base. Maybe tonight had been nothing more than Jack keeping an eye on his suspect. Maybe he was using his charm and their attraction to keep her close and off
balance, hoping to shake loose more clues when she let her guard down.

Charming gentleman or charming rogue?

She had a choice before her. Jack had told her why he was here. He also claimed to believe her innocent.

Bottom line: she believed him.

“I do appreciate all you’re doing,” she said softly. “Maybe you can help me out with a problem I’m having. Sort of a side effect of the investigation.”

“Is this what you wanted to talk about today?”

She nodded. “People are gossiping. I don’t have much control on my end. I have residents who have been victimized. They’re going to talk. With family. With friends. And they should. This whole situation is upsetting to everyone concerned. But to my knowledge, no one is talking about how I’m number one on your suspect list. Your department has been careful not to discuss specifics with my residents, so I’m not sure where this sort of stuff is originating. I was hoping you might help me figure it out.”

“Exactly what have you heard?”

“Not me. My daughter.”

“Someone said something to her.” Not a question. That law-enforcement expression settled over his face in barely the blink of an eye, and Francesca found she liked when he got all to-protect-and-to-serve about her daughter.

“Another one of yesterday’s traumas.” She exhaled softly. “Have I mentioned how glad I am yesterday’s over?”

“Tell me what happened.”

She gave him the PowerPoint version of her conversation with Beth Fairweather then found herself talking, just talking.

“This move seemed like the perfect solution. Nonna needed me here, and Gabrielle was struggling so hard to
deal with her father. Now she’s dealing with fallout from another crazy parent. Only she doesn’t even have any friends. Well, I take that back,” Francesca amended drily. “I wasn’t exactly happy with some of the friends she was making in Phoenix.”

“You’re not stealing your residents’ identities, so how are you responsible for this?”

“Bluestone’s a small town, Jack. People are going to talk. That’s a given. If not for my past, I might have gotten the benefit of the doubt. I can’t imagine anyone seriously considers Susanna guilty.” She didn’t wait for his reply. “Of course not. Put me and her in a room together, and everyone’s going to look my way when the diamond bracelet goes missing.”

“Francesca—”

“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame Susanna. I’ve never had any reason to question her honesty. Since I don’t want anyone holding my teenage choices against me, I’m certainly not going to hold them against Susanna. Not when we’ve established a working relationship. It’s not friendly by any stretch, but it is working.”

“Francesca—”

“I didn’t steal anyone’s identity, Jack. I gladly accept responsibility for my past. But no one should be spreading rumors that my daughter has to deal with. Gossip is unkind. Plain and simple.”

Her rant had everything to do with exhaustion, the lateness of the hour and weirdness of the situation. But she couldn’t stop. She’d decided to take action with the problem, and Jack was the logical place to start. Now they’d established how things stood between them, she didn’t have to hold back.

“That’s what I wanted to know about, Jack. The people you have working on the case. Anyone I would know?
Anyone who might pass along details to fan the flames? Anyone—”

“Francesca!”

Her name rang out like a command, so unexpected that it brought her rant to a startled halt. She blinked.

“I’m sorry that your daughter had to hear about the case at school,” he said. “My men know they’re not at liberty to discuss this case. I’ll talk with them and see—”

“I appreciate that, but will you do me another favor and be really careful when you do. I’d hate for anyone to think you were playing favorites. Susanna’s a personal friend of yours. The only thing I have going for me is that no one in their right mind would ever expect you to play favorites in my direction. I realize it’s not much, but it’s about the only thing I have going for me right now.”

That made him scowl. “There’s no reason for anyone to question my actions.”

“They might think you feel sorry for me or that you’ve somehow fallen under my spell.”

“They’d be right then.” His gaze captured hers, his eyes reflecting the firelight still so stern, so somber. “Well, not about the feeling sorry part.”

Francesca’s heart stopped beating, just plain stopped right in her chest. She stared at him, the jumble of emotions inside tying her tongue into a knot. She had no reply, nothing but that swelling feeling in her chest, a feeling of such excitement that she had to consciously remember to breathe.