“Franklyn, we think if we aim the attention this… incident has received toward a promotion, toward you filling this position, not only will it get the press’ attention off of… the matter, but it’ll also bring good press to the business. And with last quarter’s numbers what they were, we could use all the good press we can get right now.”

  The matter. The incident. That’s all she was. That’s what her life had boiled down to—one night of reckless stupidity. She nodded, understanding washing over her. “Ah, I see. This isn’t about me, it’s about No Limits. About making more money.” Her strained laugh made her father look up. “You want to take a sex scandal and turn it into profit.” She shook her head. “Wow, Reg, even for you, this is low.”

  “Damn it, Franklyn, this isn’t a joke!” her father yelled, his deep voice sucking the air from the room. “What happened? You used to care about the company.”

  “And you used to care about me.”

  They stared at one another, their matching hazel-blue eyes filled with years of repressed words and irrational anger. Reggie cleared his throat. The Ashford’s needed family therapy more than his legal aid.

  “Frankie, listen,” Reggie interjected. “Your dad just wants what’s best for everyone.”

  “Reggie, please. If you truly believe that, then you’re as lost to me as he is.” She saw her words cut through his tough exterior. She hated arguing with Reggie, but right now, his office was the last place she wanted to be and him the last person she wanted to be with. Other than her father. “I don’t want the promotion. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with the damn company at all.”

  “Oh, you don’t, do you?” Jack dropped his phone onto the table next to her tea. He leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “And let me guess. You want to live in a cottage by the sea with some man you’ve just met and continue giving our family a bad name.”

  Frankie’s heart lurched. “What did you…?” Her glance volleyed between the two men. “How did you…?”

  Jack’s head cocked to the side. He smirked, revealing bright white teeth. “Please, Frankie. Don’t you think I know what you’ve been up to and with whom? Do you think I’d have you leave town and not keep an eye on you?”

  “You had me followed?” Frankie’s mouth grew sour.

  Reggie tapped his brown Montblanc pen against a beige folder sitting on his desk, catching Frankie’s attention. “There’s something you need to know about this man you’ve been seeing.”

  twenty-seven

  Henry

  “Who was she?” Frankie asked, slamming the door behind her.

  The thin manila folder in her hands sent Henry’s stomach through his feet. The metal colander filled with pasta he held fell into the sink with a clang.

  “Who?”

  She smacked the folder onto the counter. “How could you not tell me?”

  He walked closer, but didn’t dare touch her. Touching her now would be a bad idea. Like a bomb about to go off, her eyes were wide and filled with such heated anger, he found it difficult to look into them. “Because I didn’t think I needed to. It was in the past.”

  “I had to walk into that meeting and get ripped a new one because you didn’t feel the need to tell me? Who is she, Henry?”

  He slid a hand through his hair. “She’s no one. That was five years ago.”

  “She was a student?” she asked, and he heard the disgust in her voice.

  He nodded and reached for his wine, taking a few gulps. His eyes wandered around her pristine kitchen; its appliances untouched. Unused. He’d envisioned cooking her dinners here that would end with a walk in the park or in her bedroom. Or up against the wall. Or his favorite, her enormous bathtub. Instead, he’d have to pack up his bag and return to Oakwhite, his past still a stain on his character, preventing him from ever finding happiness, or from moving on.

  “How could you?”

  Henry had to restrain himself from slamming the glass down on the stone countertop. “I didn’t. Did you ever consider that it wasn’t true?” He tried to exhale the anger in his voice and watched her face drop. She kept her lips tight. “No, you didn’t. You just assumed it was all true. What did they tell you?” He pointed to the folder. “What’s in there? That she was young and vulnerable, and that I used my position and forced her to have sex?”

  Frankie’s nod was imperceptible, but he didn’t miss her strong swallow. “Did you?”

  He drew a hand down his face. “Christ, Frankie. No, I didn’t.” He fell back into a chair and dropped his head into his hands, which were shaking. He took a few breaths, hoping to slow the blood racing between his ears. Was it anger at being cast in a false role yet again, or was it the hurt that she’d believe he’d do something like that?

  “But the girl said—”

  “Yeah, the girl said. They ripped away my entire career because of what a girl said.”

  “So, that’s why you aren’t teaching anymore?” she asked, taking a seat across from him. He shook his head. “And is that why you didn’t want me—”

  His head snapped up. “I always wanted you. But yes, that’s why I wasn’t sure we should. Don’t you get it? I’ve fallen head over heels in love with you, but because of that.” He nodded toward the folder, sneering. “I’ve been afraid to let myself feel it.”

  She remained quiet for a few moments. “What happened between you two?”

  He knew coming clean was inevitable, but he’d have preferred it happening when he was ready and not because some shitty lawyer had forced him into it.

  “She was exceptionally brilliant, but she had some… issues. She was very mature for her age, and sometimes, after class, we’d get lost in our conversations. But it wasn’t anything more than that.” He released a long breath before continuing. “One day, she showed up in my office and broke down, told me her boyfriend had left her, and it was a horrible relationship and…”

  He glanced up. Frankie’s eyes were round like saucers. The similarity between how they had met and his past fell down on him like a weight.

  “It wasn’t anything like you and me, Frankie. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

  She rolled her eyes, tearing her gaze away, and bit her lip.

  “Anyway,” Henry went on. “I tried to comfort her, which, I’ll admit, was a stupid thing to do. And she took it further. The next thing I know we’re—”

  “Fucking.” Henry saw how the word left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “No. Never. That’s the thing. She kissed me, and it went on for a while, but I stopped it from going too far. She kept insisting she wanted it.” He let out a shaky breath, trying to forget her touch and how crazed she had looked. “She tried. And I’ll admit I nearly gave in. But I stopped her. I told her to leave.”

  Frankie threw him a doubtful look. “And that’s it? Nothing else happened?”

  He slammed his hands together in prayer. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She cussed me out, said I’d regret it and…”

  “And you got fired because of it.”

  He laced his fingers behind his head and nodded. “Yes.”

  Admitting the truth to Frankie lifted a weight from his shoulders. But just like when he told Barbara, he expected Frankie not to believe him. He braced himself for the backlash and waited for her to kick him out. Minutes went by, but she remained quiet.

  She leaned an elbow on the table and ran her finger along the marble surface. Every second she didn’t speak was one more he wished he could have back. Maybe if he found enough of those seconds, he could go back five years prior and change what had happened.

  Then the irony hit. If he could go back and undo things, he’d likely still be teaching. He might still be living with Barbara, in a miserable relationship, and may not have taken over the shop for his parents. And then he’d never have met Frankie. The thought stabbed him in the heart. Having his career would be great, but if that meant sacrificing the last couple of days with Frankie, then he would rather live with his poor decision and the consequences that came with it.

  “You should have told me this. Right away,” Frankie said. The sound of her voice was welcomed in the heavy silence.

  “Believe me, I wanted to, but I didn’t want to risk losing you.” She side-eyed him, her lips pursed. “I know. It was completely selfish. I’m sorry.”

  He stood up and longed to kiss her, but thought better of it. Without another word, he went to the bedroom, found his bag, and started packing.

  twenty-eight

  Frankie

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him walk away and disappear into her bedroom. She brought a shaky hand to her temple, rubbing it, hoping to relieve the dull headache that had grown since she’d left the law firm.

  She filled a glass with cold water and chugged it down, desperate to figure out what she should do next. When Henry entered her life, it shifted in ways she couldn’t describe. And despite all of her father’s threats and the reasons she should listen to them, she followed her feet toward the bedroom.

  Henry, his face flushed, pulled shirts off of hangars, rolling them into bundles and shoved them into his bag.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  He glanced over his shoulder, his frown deep. “Home.”

  “Why?”

  “This is over, isn’t it?”

  She walked deeper into the room, running a finger along the edge of her mirrored dresser, then turned and sat on the bed next to his half-packed bag. “I’m not sure.”

  He sat down beside her, the bed shifting under his weight. “It should be. Right?”

  “That’s what they tell me.”

  “Who’s they?”

  She huffed. “My family. My father, to be specific. He made this huge case against you.” She shook her head before dropping it. “I’m so stupid. I thought the meeting was about me and Jason, but apparently dating someone with a track record is worse than sleeping with a married man.” She glanced over and watched Henry cringe. “Those are my dad’s words, not mine.”

  He turned to face her. “Then how do you feel about it?”

  She raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m confused. It looks bad, Henry. Really bad. And I want to believe you. I think I believe you, but then again, we hardly know each other. This might be a huge mistake.”

  He nodded, sadness filling his eyes. Then he gripped his bag and kept packing. As if unable to control her own body, she sat frozen, watching him, and wondered if he was moving slowly on purpose, or if he was just too heartbroken to move faster.

  Follow your heart, not your father’s. Reggie’s words from earlier rang in her head. He’d taken a chance chasing her down in the hallway and telling her such a thing, and she loved him more for it. Reggie had been their family’s lawyer for decades, and she respected him like a father, at least as a father who deserved her respect.

  Could she fall under Jack’s orders and let Henry leave? Her father had said she was young, she’d find another. And she probably could. But would he ever be like the man standing in her room right now? Would one glance from him fill her heart with butterflies, or would his touch make her feel fragile, as if made of glass and long for his protection? Would just the mere thought of this future hypothetical man make her smile the way Henry did? What were the odds she would find someone anywhere close as wonderful as Henry Camden?

  But even if there was a guarantee she might meet someone just as good, she knew deep down she didn’t want anyone else. To her, Henry was the one. There were no others like him.

  “What are you doing?” Henry asked as Frankie yanked her suitcase from her closet.

  “I’m packing.”

  “What for?”

  “I’m coming with you.” She opened her drawers, not paying attention to what she pulled out, just throwing what she could in the case.

  “Frankie. Stop.” He took her hand, pulling it toward him and against his chest. “I love you for doing this, but you’re better off here. Without me.”

  “Shut up, Henry. I’m coming with you.” She tried to tug her arm away, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “This isn’t right. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get what you deserve. Your family, the company—”

  “It’s just a fucking life I don’t want. I don’t need it. Do you hear me?”

  “But Frankie, your life here, it’s—”

  “It means nothing if I can’t share it with you.” She raised her hand to his cheek, and he leaned into it, shutting his eyes. “I love you, Henry. And if it’s going to keep me from living with you, and waking up in your bed every morning, then I want nothing to do with any of it.”

  “Frankie…” His words drifted as she pressed her chest against his and ran her hands behind his neck. She brushed kisses along his jaw.

  “I don’t want any of it, if it means giving you up. Do you hear me?” When their lips met, she sensed his uncertainty, his mouth set in a determined line as if he refused to let her in. “Kiss me, Henry.” He shook his head, still refusing. It infuriated her. “Please.”

  Still, he remained tight-lipped. Her hands ran down his back and pressed her body into his, feeling him tense, feeling him harden. She whispered his name.

  With a grunt, he planted his hands under her thighs, hoisting her up. He brought her to the dresser, sat her down, and pressed his erection between her legs. Finally, his lips opened, taking her hungry tongue in with a moan. He ripped her shirt up and over her head, and took her breasts into his hands, squeezing hard, sending heat rushing between her thighs. With his teeth, he pulled down the cups of her bra and sucked in her nipples. The pleasure made her drop her head back.

  He shimmied her skirt up to her waist and ran a finger along her slit through her panties. She was soaked. Reaching for his pants, she undid them, urgently releasing him and lining him up. With one forceful thrust, he was in her, sending her into the wall behind them. Their eyes met, and he pushed into her with such passion, such force, she tightened around him instantly. The dresser scratched against the floor as he pummeled into her, the trays of jeweler and perfume rattling.

  He lifted her again, carrying her across to the bed, and laid her down. He gripped her ankles, lifting her legs into the air, and her hips burned as he spread her apart. He continued to slam into her, his face contorted with pleasure and pain. With a few more thrusts, she came hard, welcoming his orgasm soon after, loving the feel of his heavy body resting, breathless, on top of hers.

  twenty-nine

  Frankie

  One year later

  She had just finished counting the receipts for the day and had placed the money in the safe when the bell warned her that someone had walked in. “Sorry, we’re closed.”

  “It’s alright,” a low, gruff voice said, sending tingles all over her body. “I know the owner.”

  Frankie looked around the wall to find Henry standing at the front.

  “Hey, you,” she said, her smile wide. “What are you doing here?” She checked her watch. “I thought we were meeting at the shop?”

  He shrugged and walked over. “It was quiet, so I closed early.”

  Frankie glanced over his shoulder through the front window and saw the people walking along Main Street, then arched an eyebrow. She knew him too well. Summer was prime season for his ice cream shop, and even on the slowest weekdays, he’d never shut early.

  “Who’s closing, Beth or Marcy?”

  He chuckled, running a hand behind his neck. “Bethany.”

  “Thought so. Well, I’m nearly done. Just need to put some clothes back and then we can leave.”

  “That’s fine, I can wait.”

  She leaned in and kissed him on the lips, then hugged him close. He smelled of chocolate and cream, and warmth fluttered in her belly.

  “Ahh!” she yelled when something cold touched her back. “What is that?”

  Henry’s smile darkened as he ran whatever he was holding along the exposed skin where her shirt had lifted. “A little something for you.”

  She took a step back and tried to see what it was. He brought the plastic cup to her front, frothy and dripping with condensation. “Mmm, gimme.”

  “Now, hang on.”

  He bit his lip, his face quirking with a thought, and ran the cup over one of her breasts. She felt the chill through her thin shirt and watched as his eyes widened with desire. Her nipple perked up when he circled the cold cup around it.

  “Mmm,” she moaned again, letting him indulge in this little game of teasing. She knew it was as much for him as for her. She adored this man and how their physical relationship was still going strong. As strong as their emotional one.

  Moving to Oakwhite had been sudden and unexpected, but unlike many of her past decisions, Frankie hadn’t doubted this one. She’d known that living with Henry and escaping the city was the right thing to do. And after almost losing him, she needed to be with him all the time. This clothing shop of hers had been their idea, and she’d spent the last year creating her designs and selling them to locals and tourists alike.

  It turned out being an Ashford wasn’t as much of a curse as she had believed. At least not once she’d left New York. Out here, in the seaside town, her name brought clients, not paparazzi. Frankie’s popularity had forced her to start selling her creations on-line to meet the demand. Hectic at times, she still wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Here, she had the luxury of taking a day off if she chose to and could hide away at the cottage without being disturbed. She didn’t have to answer to anyone but herself. And doing something she loved was just the change she’d longed for. She’d never felt freer.

  Henry kept circling her nipples, and her lower belly tightened with need. When he leaned down and sucked a nipple through her shirt, her knees almost gave out. He reached behind her, placing the cup on the counter, then forced her hips against him. She squealed.

 

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