Page 54 of Sipping Seduction
“I don't want to get up,” she said. “Can't we just go back to sleep and call in sick today?”
“The principal wants to play hooky? Are you kidding me?” I asked.
“Is it hooky if I really don't feel I’m at one-hundred percent?”
“Don't you feel well?” I placed my hand on her forehead, testing to see if she had a fever.
She rolled over to face me. “Does it count if I have muscle aches and pains?”
“That depends. Are they flu-like symptoms, or did you overdo it last night?” Nothing would make me happier than shutting out the world and spending the day in bed with my girl.
“You're hard on me, Evan.” Her lower lip stuck out in a playful pout.
“I thought being hard in you would be a good thing,” I teased.
“Hard on, not hard in.” She laughed. “Why does everything with you turn into a conversation about sex?”
That wasn't fair. If I had to calculate percentages, I'd estimate only ninety-five percent of my thoughts had to do with having sex with Frannie. “Are you complaining, moon pie?”
“No. I’m just unprepared for feeling like I've run a marathon after every night I spend with you.” She burrowed into my chest, making it virtually impossible to peel myself away from her and get ready for work.
“Maybe you need a full body massage,” I offered. “What if we both called in sick and really did play hooky today? Would you be able to live with yourself?”
“I can't remember the last time I called in sick to work.”
“Then you're due.” I picked up my phone and pulled up the text chain I shared with my brothers. “I'll do it if you do.”
She held out her hand, a devilish glint sparking in her eyes. “Hand me my phone?”
“With pleasure.” I passed her phone over and waited for her to open up her e-mail. Satisfied she wasn't joking about taking a whole day for ourselves, I fired off a text to my brothers telling them I wouldn't be in the warehouse today. We were between big batches and my assistant would be able to handle any runs that came through the line.
Holding up my phone, I turned it toward Frannie. “All done here. How about you?”
“Done.” She passed the phone back to me so I could put it on the nightstand. “What were you saying about that full body massage?”
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” I asked. “Have you ever played hooky before?”
“Never,” she said, folding her hands underneath her cheek and rolling onto her stomach. “You're a bad influence on me, Evan Bishop.”
“You know I consider that a compliment, don't you?” I rubbed my hands together, warming them up so they didn't feel too cold on her bare skin.
“Of course you would.” Frannie smiled up at me, then closed her eyes.
I worked my hands over every inch of her skin, pausing to pay special attention to the parts I was most interested in. By the time her massage was over, we'd worn ourselves out and needed a nap. It was after one when I finally convinced her to take a shower with me and come to the kitchen for a late lunch.
Frannie picked up the diary she'd left on the table the day before and flipped it open to where she'd slid a bookmark in to mark her place. “Did you know Cornelia's parents forced her to break off her relationship with Logan?”
I gathered ingredients from the fridge to whip up an omelet. “What happened? In the last update you shared with me, she’d just been allowed to accept him as a caller. Why would they make her stop seeing him? Did they get caught with less than twelve inches between them on the porch?”
The antiquated rules seemed so strange and outdated, especially in light of how my relationship with Frannie had been going.
“Sounds like the Stewart family had something to do with it.” Frannie looked up and met my gaze. “Evidently, there was some dispute about whose land the spring that fed into the distillery rested on. Based on what Cornelia wrote, her dad said she had to marry Mitchell Stewart in order to solidify the business deal between the two families.”
“That never happened.” I shook my head.
“Well, it's happening on the pages of her diary.” Frannie got up from the table and brought the book over to where I stood at the counter. “Look right here. She's writing about how crushed she was when her dad told Logan not to come around anymore. A few pages later, she talks about meeting Mitchell in town to talk to the preacher about their upcoming wedding.”
I skimmed the barely legible writing on the faded page. “If there had been a marriage between a Bishop and a Stewart, don't you think that would be a huge part of the distillery history?”
