Page 21 of Amore
“Yeah.” I laughed some more. “I can’t believe we thought it would taste like grape juice.”
“There are some jammy wines that do.”
“Jammy? Do you drink it in your jammies?” I teased. I drank red wine and knew the term “jammy,” but I was messing with Frankie, just like when we were kids.
“I do. Plenty of times.” She chuckled and took a few sips of her wine. Her eyes lit up. “You know what we should do?”
“What’s that?”
“Let’s make …” She trailed off.
“Make?”
“Never mind.” She waved me off.
“Tell me,” I urged.
She looked out the window toward the backyard, and I realized she did that when she was nervous. “It’s stupid.”
“Oh, come on, Franks. It’s me you’re talking to.”
She looked back at me. “I was just going to say that we should make spaghetti and listen to “That’s Amore” on repeat like we used to, but you probably have—”
“I’d love to.” Candace had plans with her tacos, and I needed to eat dinner. Plus, I didn’t want to leave Frankie alone after knowing someone had broken into her place. I was enjoying reconnecting with her again. All those years we had spent apart and not talking seemed almost as though they didn’t exist or that time had flown by because we were acting like our old selves again. Two best friends who finished each other’s sentences. Best friends who knew each other’s likes and dislikes. Best friends who had apparently been in love with each other.
“Really?”
“Sure, why not?”
Frankie shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you hated me.”
“I never hated you, Franks. I was just confused.”
She nodded slightly in understanding.
“How about this?” I continued. “Let’s just start where we left off.”
She gave me a look with a raise of her brow. “You know where we left off.”
“Well …” I grinned just as a doorbell ring chimed.
“That’s the gate bell.” Frankie walked to a box near the front door. She peeked out the window and then pressed a button. “It’s a police car.”
I’d figured as much. “All right. Let me go out and speak to them for a bit.”
“Okay. I’ll get some groceries delivered for dinner. Anything special you want?”
“You know what I like.” I winked. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her what I really wanted.
Or who, for that matter.
7
FRANKIE
HavingLuke there was helping me not have a nervous breakdown. I didn’t have time to think about how someone went into my house when I wasn’t home or how they could have harmed Amore, stolen my belongings, or been waiting for me to return.
I’d only lived in the house for about six months, and getting cameras set up had been on my to-do list before I left for British Columbia. Granted, it wasn’t a priority. I had thought an alarm would be enough, but I was wrong.
