Page 15 of Scotch: Unraveled

“Hey, Frankie.” I only have a minute left, so this has to be quick. “The girls okay?”

She sighs and I can hear the smile when she says, “They’re fine. Sleeping.”

“Thank you for getting Duke here.”

“Oh,Rory,” she says my name and sniffles.

“Shh…” I try to comfort her and it’s frustrating not being able to hold her to do it. My Frankie always felt better in an emotional situation when I was able to hold her to get her through it. It wasn’t a hardship.

“A-Are you okay?” she hiccups as she asks.

“Yeah. No tears now. I’ll be fine. Home tonight, I’m sure. I need to make sure you—” The phone cut off.Dammit!

A deputy leads me back to my cell and I lie down on the hard, wooden bench now picturing Frankie with my girls and ruminate on what Caity said. If I wanted three instead of two… Frankie is old lady material if any woman ever was. Then there’s the fact that no one can deny that she still has feelings for me. Sniffling on my behalf? If she didn’t care, I guarantee there’d be no sniffling from Francesca Cardone.

Hours pass with my brothers and Tommy trying to get me out. Middle of the fucking night they finally let me go. My truck I’ll have to pick up from impound when it opens. For now, they had a prospect drive Duke’s truck down. Even though I’ve been in lockup all night, I’m exhausted and I just want my girls.

I pull into Duke’s spot, cut the engine, and hand him the keys. Caity steps out wearing a satiny robe that shows off her figure. Our prez is a lucky man.

She kisses her man before anything and then looks to me. “Frankie took the girls home.”

Lifting my eyebrows, I ask, “Home?” Because I don’t know her address.

Immediately, she shakes her head. “Your home. We piled the kids in my truck and went to get the crib. They were missing their home and toys.”

“Thanks, Caity.” I turn to walk back to my trailer when Duke stops me.

“Yer off tomorrow. Already got Shifty to swap days,” he says to me, though he’s not looking my way. Who could blame him? With his old lady in that robe, hair mussed with sleep? If Frankie doesn’t have a satin robe, she needs one.

“Thanks, brother.” I take off on a jog to get home.

When I open the door, Frankie is sound asleep on the old pull-out sofa. After locking the door, I sneak through the living room to the girls’ room. Mollie and Macie lie sleeping, sharing a crib. They’re snuggled next to each other, holding hands under the soft, wide-weave yellow blanket. They look so peaceful.

Carefully, I bend in to kiss first Mollie’s and then Macie’s head. Macie moves a little but settles back to an even sleep.

I pull off my boots first, ripping my shirt over my head while walking back into the living room. Last to go are my jeans before lifting the blanket and sliding into bed next to Frankie. The first time in eight years. And I can’t help it, I roll into her. She sighs as she snuggles back into me. Her warmth puts my body at ease the way only she ever had the power to do, working out the ache in my muscles from spending hours on a hard bench and if I’m being honest, working out the ache somewhere else, too. This woman was my everything and now here I am, lying next to her again. Once I know she’s not waking up, I drop my arm over her waist in the exact spot I used to rest it when we lay in bed, press my groin against her sumptuous ass, and drift off to sleep.

The alarm on her phone goes off way too fucking early, and she screams the softest scream I’ve ever heard when she sees me lying next to her. I prop myself up on an elbow and use the hand on that arm to push the hair from my face because I still have my other hand splayed across her stomach with no plans to move it until she forces me.

“What are you doing here?” she bites out.

“Told you I’d be home middle of the night.” Even bleary-eyed, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world—and I’ve traveled the world.

“But you’re in bed with me.”

“Yeah, it’smybed, at least until I get some real furniture up in here. Where exactly did ya expect me to sleep?”

“Jail,” she snaps.

“Have to say…” I pause to chuckle. “This is much better.”

“Rory.” She usesthe toneas she shifts to look at me.

I know that tone and press my hand to cover her mouth. “We need to talk.”

“I’m here for the girls,” she tries to protest, but I know better, even if she doesn’t for now. And if she doesn’t, then it’s my job to make her see the light.

“Yar here for more than just that and ya know it.”

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