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“Me?” She stopped to look at him.
They stood in front of the auto parts store, with its slight smell of oil and flashing neon sign, lit even during the day. Not the most romantic setting.
“I’d like to stick around, Frankie. Mustang Valley is a good place for me to start my racing quarter horse farm.”
“You said yesterday you wanted another chance with me.”
“There’s that, too.”
They began walking again. “Not that it’s any of my business,” she said, finally giving in to her curiosity, “but have you met anyone these past four years?”
“I’ve dated a couple gals. Nothing serious.” He chuckled, with more nervousness than humor. “I had a lot of trouble getting over you, Francine Hartman.”
Then why didn’t you come back? Her life, and that of her daughters, might now be entirely different.
“Let me rephrase,” he said. “No one’s compared to you.”
“I see.” She shouldn’t be happy. And she wasn’t.
Fine, fine. She was a little happy. She’d pined over him, too.
“What about you?” he asked. “Anybody special?”
“I know for a fact my sisters told you I’m single.” Damn them, she thought.
Spence smiled sheepishly. “I just wanted to hear it from you.”
She resisted. For two seconds. “I’ve dated, too. Nothing serious,” she added, echoing him.
“Why not? You’re a catch.”
Frankie hesitated. She couldn’t tell him she’d been too busy working and raising their daughters to give much thought to dating. Or that most single men weren’t interested in a ready-made family.
“Lately, I’ve been busy trying to get my catering business off the ground.”
“Nice pat answer. What’s the real reason?”
Okay. He asked for it. “It’s been hard for me to trust anyone again after you.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you I wasn’t the guy for you at the time, and that I was trying for a clean break? Much as I loved you, and I did, I couldn’t bring myself to settle down and have that family you wanted.”
“And now you’re different?”
“Yes, I am.” His confidence returned. “You can trust me.”
She wasn’t entirely swayed. But he had gone out on a limb to admit the truth to her, and that took courage.
“I have a short shift at the café. Come by my house tonight. Seven thirty.”
His eyes sparked. “To talk business?”
“No.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
She felt suddenly uncomfortable. “We’d better get back. My shift starts soon.”
At the entrance to the café, he took her hand again. Only rather than hold it, he brought her palm to his cheek. The bristles of his day-old beard tickled her skin. “I meant what I said about staying. Give me a reason, Frankie, and I’m here for good.”
She could do that, give him a reason. And throw him for a heck of a loop in the process.
“We’ll talk more tonight.” Her hand fell away from his face. “Goodbye, Spence.” Hurrying inside, she quickly changed into her uniform, her fumbling fingers struggling with the zipper.
She didn’t have much time. For all she knew, Eddie or someone else had already mentioned her girls, and Spence was biding his time, waiting for her to confess or to call her out on her unforgivable lie.
Just breathe. In and out.
Frankie stopped in the doorway and fought to slow her racing heart. The moment she’d been dreading for years had at long last arrived. No amount of panicking would delay it.
* * *
IT HAD TAKEN every ounce of Spence’s willpower not to follow Frankie inside the café earlier. He’d told her he wanted to stay in Mustang Valley, which in his mind amounted to admitting he still cared. Her response had been to stare blankly at him, and then suggest they get back.
Okay, he was man enough to admit that stung. Then again, she hadn’t given him the boot. And she’d invited him to her house. He’d been contemplating the endless possibilities for hours.
Contrary to what he’d implied, his buddy Eddie had divulged very little about Frankie. Not that Spence had asked. He hadn’t wanted to appear interested, which, of course, he was.
The house he pulled up in front of was in the new residential section of Mustang Valley, built less than a mile from the park and center of town. With its stucco siding and Santa Fe styling, he thought the home exactly the type Frankie would have picked. Someday, when she finally had that family she wanted. But now?
While far from huge, it did seem a lot for one person, especially with its spacious backyard and modest horse setup. That part struck Spence as odd, seeing as Frankie wasn’t much into horses and livestock like the rest of her family, other than as a spectator. But, then again, most people in Mustang Valley owned horses, and most houses came with a horse setup.
Solar lights lined the walkway to Frankie’s front door, casting slanted ovals of gold on the desert landscaping and reminding Spence of the late hour. Seven thirty? He pondered the reasoning behind Frankie’s request as he knocked on her front door.
His pulse beat faster, revealing his anxiety. She answered quickly, making him think she’d been watching out the window. As the door swung open, he took in the sight of her, and his throat promptly went dry.
“You look great.” So much for playing it cool. “Seriously, Frankie.”
She gave him a once-over but, unlike him, managed to refrain from blurting the first thing to pop into her head.
“Come on in.”
He stepped over the threshold and was instantly assaulted by a pair of friendly dogs, one a Lab mix and the other a yappy terrier. Both sniffed his pant legs and boots. Apparently, he passed inspection, for they quickly moved away, tails wagging and tongues lolling.
“I see you’re still collecting strays.” Spence bent and gave each dog an ear scratching. “Where are the cats?”
“Cat,” Frankie clarified. “And she’s around somewhere.”
She had a tender heart and was always rescuing one needy animal or another. Also, apparently, long-lost half sisters.
On quick inspection, he saw the living room was decorated with a few items he remembered from her dad’s house. The oil painting hanging over the couch. The pine side table her grandfather had made. A braided rug beneath the table. Various pictures of little girls hung in a pattern on the wall. She and her sisters as children, Spence guessed.
“You have a nice place.”
“We—I like it.”
He followed her inside, quite enjoying the view. She paused and turned. He enjoyed this view even better.
Capri pants emphasized her shapely calves. Bare feet exposed red toenails. A gold chain circled her slim neck, the engraved disk nestled in her generous cleavage. A second gold chain circled her right ankle. Tiny crinkles that appeared at the corners of her eyes when she smiled had him falling for her all over again.
“Frankie.” Unable to help himself, he reached for her. “I’ve missed you.”
“Spence—”
He didn’t give her time to finish and pulled her against him, aligning the body parts that mattered the most. “I’ve been waiting for this since I saw you in that ugly uniform yesterday.” He dipped his head.
“Ugly—?”
He cut her off again, this time with a kiss. Her spine stiffened, and she resisted him. For a moment. And while not exactly surrendering, she did relax and let his mouth move over hers in a familiar pattern he’d dreamed about for four straight years.
Fire instantly flared inside him, the one only she could ignite. His hold on her tightened as he wrapped an arm around her waist and increased the pressure of his mouth, urging her lips to part. When they did, and he tasted her, the fire raged until it nearly consumed him.
The next instant, it died when she extracted herself from his embrace. “Not now,” she said in a low voice, and stepped away, establishing a safe distance between them.
“All right.”
Had he really just answered her with complete composure? She’d left him shaken, both because of the intensity of their kiss—incredibly potent even after all this time—and her unnerving calm. How could her world not be spinning? His was, wildly out of control.
Then again, she’d said, “Not now.” She hadn’t said, “Not ever again.” Spence wasn’t one to split hairs, but in his mind, there was a big difference.
“Have a seat.” She gestured toward the couch.
“Thanks.” He thought he detected a slight shakiness in her raised arm. Maybe she wasn’t immune to him, after all.
Removing his cowboy hat, he placed it on the coffee table next to a stack of colorful books. Dr. Seuss? Really? Must be more childhood mementoes. Taking a cue from the dogs, who’d already claimed nearby spots on the floor, he lowered himself onto the couch.
Was that a noise he heard from down the hall? Had Frankie left a TV on in the bedroom? Perhaps her sister Sam was here and had been issued strict instructions to stay out of sight while Spence was visiting.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” he said.
“This is mostly Dad’s doing. He won the lottery last spring. Maybe you heard.”
“Your sisters mentioned something. I remember him buying tickets every week.”
“Same numbers for over thirty years.”
She chose the chair next to the side table rather than the end of the couch near him. Drat. Foiled again.
“It wasn’t a fortune,” she said. “But enough to make all our lives easier. Dad split the money four ways between himself, Mel, Ronnie and me. I used my share for a down payment on this house and some furnishings. He and Dolores were getting married, and I didn’t want to be living with them.”
“That was generous of him.”
“It was. Ronnie started her barrel racing school with her share and Mel bought her vet practice. Dad paid for his wedding to Dolores and their honeymoon in Hawaii.”
“You like her? Your stepmom?” Spence remembered the Frankie from high school who desperately missed her late mother and believed it was her job to help raise her younger sisters.
“She’s wonderful. We love her to pieces.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t use your share to start your catering business.”
“I thought about it. But getting my own place was more important. We were living wi—” She stopped herself, not for the first time tonight. “No new bride needs a third wheel.”
“I suppose not.”
A lull fell, one that Spence felt acutely. This wasn’t typical. For them, conversation had always flowed easily.
“It’s a good-sized house,” he said. “Lots of room for you and Sam. She lives with you, right?”
“She does, though she’s with friends tonight.” Frankie shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Spence. There’s a reason I asked you over tonight and it has nothing to do with my catering business or us.”
“Okay.” His insides clenched, responding to the somber tone in her voice and worried expression on her face.
“Wait here.” She rose. “Don’t move. Promise me. I have two very special people I’d like you to meet.”
She disappeared from the room and padded down the hall. Spence strained his ears, hearing voices. So he hadn’t been wrong about someone else in the house. But who? Not a guy; she wasn’t dating, and not Sam. Her stepmom maybe?
Finally, after what felt like an agonizing amount of time, Frankie reappeared, trailed by two little girls. What the heck...?
Stopping in the middle of the room, she gathered the girls to her sides. They were a study in contrast: one short and blonde, the other taller and with dark hair. Nonetheless, something made Spence think they were sisters.
“This is Paige—” Frankie lifted the shorter one’s hand, clasped firmly in hers “—and this is Sienna.” She patted the top of the taller one’s head with her other hand. “My daughters.”
Spence was never at a loss for what to say. Until now. He stared at Frankie and the girls, a malfunction occurring in the area of his brain responsible for speech.
Daughters? Impossible!
Well, apparently not, for there they stood, wearing matching pajamas and staring at him with a mixture of shyness and curiosity.
“Um...uh, hello,” he managed to choke out.
“I thought you three should meet. Girls, say hi.”
“Hi,” they both said simultaneously and softly, clinging to their mother.
Their mother! Frankie had children. Two of them! This explained the pictures on the wall and the Dr. Seuss books.
When had it happened? Well, obviously during the last four years. How old were they? Spence wasn’t good at these things, having no experience. He was the youngest of three siblings and not a father himself. His oldest brother had children, but he and his wife lived in Marana. Spence visited them only once or twice a year.
“We’re twins,” the shorter one said, as if she made that announcement regularly.
