Page 18 of Raging Inferno

“Why not? I’m good for dinner and a movie too,” Frankie argues.

The son of a bitch is playing me.

“She’s got plans,” I grunt.

“I do?”

“Yeah, you do,” I tell her. “You got plans with me.”

“Right,” she says, covering her smile with a hand. “I forgot about that,” she continues, playing along. “I’m sorry Frankie it must’ve slipped my mind. We already have plans to… what were they again?”

“Tomorrow night I’m taking you to dinner. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“There you go,” she says, turning her attention to Frankie. “We’re going to dinner tomorrow night.” Her eyes move back to me. “Refresh my memory, did I tell you where I live?”

Grinning, I shake my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Frankie take a step backward. His head turns from side to side, trying to keep up with the banter between me and Melissa.

“You were just about to give me your address and your phone number,” I tell her.

“Then I should do that.”

“You should,” I agree, pulling out my phone. She chews her lip nervously before finding the courage to take the phone from my hands. As she types her number into the keyboard, I glance over at Frankie who is smirking at me.

A second later she pulls her ringing phone out of her purse and hands me back mine. I end the call and store her number as she turns to Frankie.

“Sorry Frankie, looks like you’re a day late and a dollar short,” she teases, diverting her attention back to me.

“Well, if I had to lose you to someone I’m glad it’s this guy,” Frankie tells her before looking back at me. “I’ll meet you at checkout,” he adds, grabbing the cart from me. Once he’s out of sight and we’re alone, Melissa lifts her chin.

“Thanks for the save,” she murmurs.

“It wasn’t a save,” I reply. Crossing one arm over the other I scratch the scruff lining my jaw as I study her, watching her eyes widen. “I’m going to need your address.”

“Jimmy—”

“I know you’re not married,” I start, cutting her off. “So unless you’re in a relationship of some kind, I’d really like to take you to dinner tomorrow,” I tell her, dropping my hand from my face.

“It’s complicated,” she says softly.

“It’s just dinner,” I press, stepping toward her and closing the distance between us. “I promise to be a gentleman,” I add. Giving in, I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. As my hand falls my fingers softly graze her cheek and a soft whimper escapes her lips.

“Where’s the fun in that,” she whispers as she stares back at me.

Fire.

It’s there in those pretty brown eyes.

Vibrant and beautiful as it dances back to life.

It’s the first fire I don’t want to put out.

The first fire I want to watch spread into a raging inferno.

And for the very first time, I want those dancing flames to burn me.

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