Page 35 of Sipping Seduction
It was the least I could do. I wasn’t too excited to head back into the dining room and face my family, but I’d be willing to do a hell of a lot more if it meant coming through for Frannie. “Why don’t you go warm up the truck and I’ll bring it out to you?”
“Thanks, Evan.” She rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my cheek. Then she headed toward the front door.
I stood there for a long beat, wishing the past few minutes had just been a bad dream. When I didn’t wake up, I grabbed a plastic container from the cabinet where my mom had always kept them and ventured back into the war zone of the dining room.
The hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt as soon as I stepped in the room. “Frannie’s heading out to see her dad, and I promised I’d send her with some pot roast. It’s his favorite.”
“Of course.” Mom hopped out of her chair like she was grateful for something to do. She filled the container with enough of everything to cover Frannie’s dad for at least two meals. “Is she coming back?”
I shook my head and avoided looking at Miller. “Not tonight.”
“Never saw that one coming.” Cole shook his head. “You falling for Frannie? I don’t know how I missed it.”
My head snapped up, and I faced Miller with a sinking feeling spreading through my gut. “You told everyone?”
Miller shrugged a shoulder. “Somebody needed to fill them in.”
I took the food from my mom and turned to go. The toe of my sneaker caught on the area rug, and I stumbled forward, dropping the container as I reached for the back of a chair to steady myself. “Fuck!”
“Watch your language, son,” Dad bellowed.
“It’s okay. I’ll pack up another container.” Mom bent down to scoop up the food that had gone sailing across the floor.
Amalie pushed back from the table and crouched down to help. Miller got up and headed into the kitchen. He came back a few seconds later with another empty container and filled it to the top.
“Here you go, bro.” Miller handed it to me but wouldn’t let go until I looked up and met his gaze. “I’m so sorry, Ev.”
There wasn’t anything left to say, so I nodded and tried to leave the dining room with what little pride I had left.
CHAPTER18
Frannie
I don’t knowhow I didn’t see that coming. As I navigated Evan’s big truck into the parking lot of the place where my dad lived, I replayed the events of the evening for the umpteenth time. We’d been friends since grade school. Not just friends, but best friends. He knew everything about me, and I thought I knew everything about him. His family had treated me like one of their own, and I’d let them down.
I rested my head on the center of the steering wheel. Nothing about this evening made sense. I’d been fooling myself to think Andrew and I would make a decent match. Going out on a limb for him wasn’t worth risking my friendship with Evan. I picked up the container of food he’d given me for my dad and entered the facility. At least one good thing could come out of today—I could give my dad his damn pot roast.
Even though I had a key, I rang the doorbell of his apartment. The past few times I’d been over to visit, he’d been totally normal, but there was always a chance he might be confused when I came over and not recognize me. I wasn’t sure what I would do when that started to happen on a regular basis. He was the only family I had left, and the idea of him slipping away from me wasn’t something I could handle.
“Hey, Dad. I brought that pot roast over that I promised you.”
He smiled and opened the door wide. “Frannie, I’ve been waiting for you. Come in, sweetheart.”
Grateful he appeared to be with me, I stepped into his apartment and buried myself against his chest. The spicy scent of his aftershave surrounded me.
“I’m happy to see you, too.” He chuckled and hugged me tight. “Had a rough day?”
I released my hold on him and brushed the threat of tears from under my eyes. “You could say that.”
“Well, I’ve got an ear you can bend and a shoulder you can cry on if you need it.” Dad took the plastic container to the tiny kitchen and pulled a plate down from the cabinet. “Did you eat already, or would you like me to fix you a plate, too?”
My stomach was too knotted up to try to digest any food. “I’m good. Go ahead and eat.”
He puttered around the kitchen, and I couldn’t help but think how different things were now that Mom was gone and Dad was living somewhere all alone. Growing up, the kitchen had been the center of our home. My mother had a pan for everything, and there was always something in the oven or bubbling away on the stove. I loved to cook, but hadn’t inherited her natural talent. Someday I hoped to have a kitchen like hers, though. Even if I couldn’t recreate the comfort food she served, at least I’d be able to fill it with the same kind of love.
Mrs. Bishop’s kitchen felt the same way. For a little while tonight, before the announcement about Andrew and me threw a huge wrench in the evening, I’d felt the same sense of comfort with Evan’s family as I had growing up. I hadn’t felt that inner peace in so long that I’d forgotten how much I needed it. It seemed like my own family was falling apart, and I’d hoped I’d still be welcome in theirs. Now I didn’t know what the future would look like.
“Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water, orange juice, or a couple of ginger ales.” Dad opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of filtered water. “If you want something a little spicier, I won a bottle of whiskey off one of the guys playing poker the other day.”
