Page 101 of The Worst Best Man
His gaze must have told her as much because she looked down at her shoes and then the bag in his hand. “It’s not one of ours, but it’s a deli a few blocks away that’s almost as good as us. Just don’t tell Dad.”
“Your secret is safe,” he promised.
“Why did Oscar let me in?”
“I told security and reception that you had free rein to come and go as you pleased.”
“When did you tell them that?” Frankie asked.
“The day after I got home from Barbados.”
She bit her lip and dipped her head.
“Is something wrong?” Aiden asked, nudging her chin up to look at him.
“There was, but now there isn’t,” she said firmly.
“Can I ask what?”
She shook her head. “Uh-uh. It’s better that you just go with it.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.” He grabbed her wrist and towed her back to his desk where he spread the sandwich out on the bag. Hot roast beef, and was that a whiff of horseradish?
“I had them leave the onions off in case you had meetings today,” Frankie said. She was back to chewing on her lower lip.
“Do I have to share this with you, or am I good to inhale the entire thing?” he asked, keeping the tone light.
“Inhale away. I had a turkey panini and watched Pru choke down six pounds of kale.”
“How are the newlyweds?” he asked.
“Glowing like all the lights in Paris,” Frankie sighed and perched on the edge of his desk. “She looks great and says Chip’s eye is all healed. Is The Oak Leaf at eight good for you?”
He would rearrange whatever it took to clear his schedule. Oscar would whine about the last-minute changes, but Aiden finally had a social occasion that trumped any business.
“That’s fine,” he promised.
“There’s one more thing,” she said. Frankie was watching him closely. “Is it okay if I stay the night at your place? Since I’m already here and all—”
“I’d love that,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. His blood was already roaring through his veins with the thought of Franchesca naked on his bed. Franchesca eating breakfast at his table. Franchesca lounging on his couch or arguing with him over something in his office.
He didn’t know what had caused this abrupt about-face, but he was grateful.
She glanced at her watch. “I should probably head out soon. I’m meeting Pru and we’re going shopping.”
Aiden reached for his wallet and stopped when Frankie pressed her stilettoed foot to his chest. It gave him a direct line of sight up her skirt. “I can buy my own dinner dress, Kilbourn.”
He didn’t know whether to be incredibly turned on with the heel pressing into his pec or annoyed that, once again, she was rejecting him. He decided it was okay to be both.
“Fuck it. Franchesca, this is the one thing I have to offer you, and when you refuse it, it cuts at me.”
“Aiden!” she gasped his name in shock and some anger if he wasn’t mistaken.
Damn it. Why did he have to open his mouth? It never paid to show someone your vulnerability.
Frankie moved her shoe and surprised him by sliding onto his lap. “You think your wallet and your cock are the only reasons I’d be with you?”
He felt his cock thicken at her words. He knew she had to feel him lengthening under her, her skirt pushed up around her hips.
