I threw Ren a salty look. "You don't have to rub it in. I shouldn't need to justify myself to you."

  "Uh-huh." Ren began to dribble the ball. "And what are you and the lovely Frankie getting up to tonight?"

  "We're recording another episode."

  "And?"

  "And we might get dinner."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Uh-huh?" I asked, echoing him. "Uh-huh. What the fuck does uh-huh mean?"

  "Nothing. It's a nothing word. It's like fine." Ren tapped a finger against his chin. "Fine is also a nothing sound. How are you? Fine. How's the weather? Fine. How was the wedding? Fine. See? Nothing words."

  I snorted, flipping him the bird. "Liar. Have you thought about going to law school? 'Cause you're passing judgment left, right, and center, buddy."

  He tossed me the ball. "If I'm Judge Judy, what does that make you? The defendant?"

  I dodged around him, scoring a three-pointer. "Piss poor retort, Ren."

  "Hey, cut me some slack, I'm coming off two twenty-four-hour shifts." He yawned wide enough to crack his jaw, one hand scrubbing at the dark circles under his eyes. "Shit, I'm beat."

  I tucked the ball under my arm. "Go home. The twins bailed, maybe it's time for you to do the same."

  He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "And the fact you could head to Frankie's early has absolutely nothing to do with this generous offer?"

  I tossed him the ball, gratified when he doubled over with an "oof."

  "Go get some sleep. And stop gossiping. You're worse than my stepmom—God bless Karen—but the woman loves a good gossip."

  Ren laughed, turning on his heel. "I'll see you next week. Have fun with Ms. Kenton."

  "Doctor!" I yelled after him. "She's Doctor Kenton!"

  He sent me a satisfied grin over his shoulder, collecting his bag. "I know."

  "Motherfucker."

  I pulled out my cell to shoot a text off to Frankie.

  "Hey, Jay?"

  I looked up to find Ren watching me from the entrance to the court, one hand on the door, the other holding his backpack.

  "What? Decided you do want an ass-kicking?"

  He slowly shook his head. "Look, you probably don't want me to say anything but we all know McKenzie did a number on you. She fed you lies and convinced you of shit that has never been remotely true."

  I flinched, the mere mention of McKenzie like a sucker punch to the gut.

  "And I know you don't speak about her or that night—ever."

  I opened my mouth to dismiss his claim but the words wouldn't come.

  "She was wrong. And Frankie's your proof."

  I cleared my throat, trying for flippancy and failing. "Get to the point."

  He shrugged. "You look happy, dude. Now, I'm not normally one to stick my nose in—"

  I snorted.

  "—but seriously, hang on to this one. She's a good woman to know and love. And you, my friend, deserve good in your life. I'll catch you next week."

  And with his bombshell lobbed, the fucker left, leaving me to process the fallout.

  "Well fuck," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "What the fuck am I meant to do with that?"

  I looked down at my cell, shoving aside Ren and the bullshit he'd stirred up.

  Jay: Basketball finished early. I'm claiming victory. Pizza and beer to go with your next kink class?

  Frankie: If you're buying. But this is the truest test of our relationship so far…. What toppings will you order?

  Jay: Toppings? You have toppings? What's wrong with cheese?

  Her reply came through as I stepped from the shower.

  Frankie: You better be joking right now or there will be a murder. You think I'm lying? I know where to bury bodies, don't test me.

  I didn't know how to categorize these interactions. My previous experience with women usually involved thinly veiled sexual innuendo followed by hookup plans—not arguing over pizza toppings.

  A food-related text shouldn't turn me on just like her questions about my day shouldn’t cause my chest to ache. Yet here we were.

  "Ridiculous." I ran a hand over my damp beard. "This is some grade A bullshit. I'm thirty fucking years old. I should have my shit together by now."

  And yet the ghost of the girlfriend past sat heavy on my shoulders, whispering doubts in my ear.

  "Frankie's not her," I muttered, yanking on my jeans. "Frankie's not even remotely like her."

  I forcefully shoved the memories away, ignoring the swirling in my gut.

  "Fuck Ren." I reached for my shoes. "Everything's good. Great even. Everything's fucking perfect. Absolutely perfect."

  I looked down at my hands, fisting them to stop the trembling, determined to ignore the knot of anxiety twisting in my gut.

  "It's fine," I muttered. "Everything is fine."

  21

  Frankie

  "Don't you think it's a bit soon to be meeting his family?" Annie asked from where she lazed on my bed.

  I considered myself in my bedroom mirror, fiddling with the sleeve of my dress.

  The weather had finally cooled as autumn descended. Leaves were beginning to fall from trees while the scent of pumpkin spice hung in the air.

  "No. We've been together for nearly two months." I paused, hugging the memories of those two glorious months close. I'd met his friends and he'd met mine. He slotted into my life and I'd discovered my place in his. It felt magical. Right. Good.

  I found myself daydreaming of our future—the incredible sex, the laughs, a yard full of dinosaurs for our theoretical kids to play on. Unlike some of my previous relationships, that imagined future felt real and within reach.

  Which is why it didn't make sense whenever I caught Jay staring at me with fear in his eyes.

  "Besides," I continued, searching for my lipstick. "It's not all of his family—just his dad, stepmom, and their youngest kids who are still at home."

  "I thought you said he didn't have a relationship with his birth parents."

  "He doesn't. He calls his foster father dad."

  "Oh, so you're not meeting anyone important."

  I chuckled at her dry tone. "You're in a mood today."

  In typical Annie fashion her bun had slipped free, hair flying around her head like a blonde halo. She wore black jeans and a branded shirt with her S#!T Happens logo over her left breast. She'd come directly from a meeting with her supplier which I could tell from the deep V between her eyebrows and the clench of her jaw, hadn't gone well.

  "I'm stressed and PMS-ing, you're going to have to deal with bitchy Annie."

  "And that's a change how?"

  A pillow slapped me in the back of my head.

  "Hey!"

  "Hey yourself." She sobered. "Frankie, are you sure about him? You've never been to his house."

  "In his house," I corrected. "I've dropped him off plenty of times."

  "Kissing in the driveway of his discount Jurassic Park doesn't count."

  I rolled my eyes. "He has stairs, Annie. It's not like I can just stroll on in."

  Annie snorted. "Five stairs to his porch. You're telling me he couldn't help you up them?"

  "He probably could." I sighed. "But I didn't want him to."

  Her golden gaze glinted dangerously, her eyes narrowing. "And why exactly would you not want that?"

  Damn it. This is the problem with friends, they know you too well.

  I muttered something under my breath.

  "Oh, don't you fucking dare." She waggled a finger at me. "You better not be putting yourself down."

  "I'm not. It's just—he's made me a ramp. And I kind of like that the first time I'll be inside his house didn't involve me being hauled around."

  She sighed, pinching her nose. "There is so much to unpack here I don't even know where to start or if we have time."

  "Can we do cliff notes?" I asked hopefully.

  She dropped her hand, her face shadowed with worry. "Alright, the stairs—pride or comfort?"

  "Ego," I admitted. "I'm being stubborn about it. He already does so much for me, it's a point of pride that if the ramp is in place I don't have to ask for help."

  Annie nodded. "I get it. I just…."

  "You're worried."

  "Yeah, I am. I don't want you to get hurt."

  "Why do you think I'm going to get hurt?"

  She sighed, shrugging. "He's not been in a relationship in a really long time, Frankie. What does that say about him?"

  I moved to the bed, reaching out to capture her hands. "Babe, what I'm about to say, I say with love. You haven't been in a relationship in a really long time either. What does that say about you?"

  "That there's a man drought?" She shook her head, a small self-deprecating smile touching her lips. "I get it. I need to check my prejudice."

  "You do." I squeezed her hands. "But you love me, so I get why you're worried." I hesitated. "But Annie, is this worry for me… or is it you looking for distraction?"

  She sucked in a breath. "You're psychoanalyzing me."

  I chuckled. "Yep. It's time. This is a conversation we have to have."

  "Nope. Not today. Or ever." She jumped off the bed, snatching her tote from the floor. "Go have dinner with the parents." She pressed a kiss to my cheek. "Love you. Be a good girl. Or a bad one—whichever is more fun." She turned, heading for the door. "And tell Jay… hi."

  My heart gave a happy dance at her concession. "I will."

  "And ask him where he got his yard dinosaurs. I want a giant toilet roll made for my garden."

  I snorted. "You're not getting a giant toilet roll."

  She paused in the doorway. "Oh. I definitely one hundred percent am."

  With a last wave she left, stomping through my house and slamming the door shut behind her—quiet and subtle were not in her vocabulary.

  I looked back at the mirror, pursing my lips together trying to breathe through the butterflies in my stomach.

  I'd only ever met two boyfriends' parents before—neither experience ending well.

  First had been my high school sweetheart. His dad had spoken to me like I was deaf the whole meal then asked if I needed to be pushed to the car. We'd parted on amicable terms unrelated to his parents but it had left me gun-shy.

  The last had been a guy three years ago. We'd dated casually for about two months before he'd invited me to attend a family birthday with him. His mother had stared at me for a full five minutes then burst into tears, asking him why he insisted on doing this to her. He'd been a nice guy but I wasn't content to live with that kind of shadow hanging over my relationship.

  "You can do this, Frankie. Roll the dice, jump off the cliff, let the chips fall where they may." I gave myself a final once-over then nodded firmly.

  "Let's do this."

  I parked in Jay's drive, laughing at his latest garden offering.

  The dinosaurs, it seemed, liked to celebrate unusual theme days. Today they all wore beards.

  Jay bounced out of the house and down to meet me at my car, holding the door open as I hauled my wheelchair across my lap.

  "Hello, beautiful." He pressed an exuberant kiss to my lips. "Did you know it's World Beard Day?" He rubbed his cheeks against mine.

  "Stop it, you child!"

  He grinned, his gaze dipping to check me out. "You're looking particularly colorful today."

  I looked down at my dress. I'd chosen to embrace the turning of the seasons and worn an autumn print scene.

  "Shit, should I go change?"

  Jay stared at me for a beat. "How did you get to 'I should go change' from 'you're looking colorful'?"

  I huffed. "It was your tone."

  "Ah." He knit his hands together, pressing his index fingers to his lips. "I see. You mistook my, I-want-to-rip-your-dress-from-your-body tone for a you're-wearing-the-wrong-thing tone." His hands did a swan dive to point down at his feet. "But I don't blame you when you are dating such a fashionista of a boyfriend."

  I snorted. "Really, Jay? Sandals?"

  "Your feet's best friend."

  "I'm ashamed of you."

  "No, you're not." He leaned in, kissing me. "You know, I expected you to have categorized all of my reactions by now." He shook his head sadly. "Worst girlfriend ever."

  "Is that because she's sobered up and decided to dump you?" a young male voice asked.

  I shifted, looking behind Jay to see a teenager standing in the driveway, a young girl peeking from behind his legs.

  Jay clutched at his chest. "Such snark from my own brother!" He pretended to keel over. "It's a mortal wound. My heart will never recover."

  I transitioned from the car, watching as the little girl ran to Jay, throwing her arms around him.

  "I'll kiss you better!"

  Jay scooped her up, pretending to groan as she wrapped arms around his neck. "Look at that, I'm all fixed!" He blew a raspberry on her cheek, sending me a wink as she squealed, squirming in his arms.

  Be still thy ovaries. Thy God of spontaneous impregnation has arrived.

  "Frankie, meet Sam the sullen teenager."

  The kid rolled his eyes but gave me a friendly smile.

  "And this is Princess Janeane."

  "Hi." I waved at the shy little girl. She hid her head in his neck, turning away from me.

  "Come on in, Will and Karen have taken over the kitchen."

  I pushed beside him, smiling up at Janeane when she peeked at me through her fingers.

  "Are they worried you might ruin dinner?" I teased, having discovered Jay also couldn't cook a meal to save his life.

  Sam laughed behind me. "I like you."

  "Thank you," I told him, trying to calm my inner excited squealing. "The feeling is mutual."

  I pushed easily up the newly installed ramp, pausing to wait for Jay to open the door.

  "Welcome to hell, Frankie," Sam said from behind me. "Hope your tetanus shots are up to date."

  The inside of Jay's home needed work. A lot of work. There were holes in walls, faded and peeling wallpaper, and a wood floor that looked like it hadn't been touched since the dark ages.

  "It's… ah… that is… I mean." I swallowed a laugh at Jay's hopeful expression. "It's got potential."

  He laughed, laying a hand on the wall. "Don't listen to her, baby. She doesn't know you like I do. You're perfect just as you are."

  Sam slipped past me, reaching for Janeane to place her on the ground. "We all told him not to do it but he fell in love with the dinosaurs. We suggested he buy the statues but he started rambling about not wanting to remove them from their natural habitat. Next thing we knew there were more in the front yard and a pterodactyl on order."

  Janeane smiled shyly at me. "Harold is my favorite."

  I leaned down until I was at her eye level. "Harold's my favorite too."

  She brightened. "Do you like raptors?"

  "Absolutely," I confirmed. "What's your favorite thing about them?"

  She frowned thinking for a long moment then brightening. "Their teamwork. They hunt in packs and would rip you apart as a family."

  I slapped my mouth shut, desperately trying to smother the hysterical laughter caught in my throat.

  "Sam, do you want to take Janeane to the backyard?"

  Sam nodded. "Sure. Come on, noodle."

  She skipped along beside him, chatting animatedly about dinosaurs. It was only once they were out of earshot, I dared to look at Jay—finding his own mirth matched my own.

  "Teamwork?" I croaked, giggles breaking free.

  "She's five and already I'm fearful of her." He shook his head. "She'll either rule the world or destroy it."

  "Such great power in one so young."

  We both laughed.

  "Well, isn’t this lovely?"

  I tensed, glancing over to find a couple in their mid-forties standing in the doorway watching us with identical amused expressions. I stared at them struck by a weird sense of déjà vu—and not the, this-is-a-small-town-I've-seen-you-around kind of vibe but more the I-really-do-know-you feeling.

  "Frankie, meet my dad, Will, and stepmom, Karen. Guys, this is Frankie."

  He placed a hand on my shoulder giving me a reassuring squeeze.

  Will had salt-and-pepper hair, a wide grin, and the kind of wrinkles that spoke of living a good life. Karen's head hovered a touch below his shoulder, her pile of hair adding an extra inch. Short and plump, she wore a cute wrap dress I immediately wanted in every color and print.

  "It's great to meet you." I wheeled forward, holding out a hand for them to shake.

  "Oh no," Will said, holding his arms out wide. "In this family we hug."

  He shifted to the side of the chair, bending to wrap me in a quick embrace, Karen immediately taking his place to squeeze me tight.

  "We're so pleased to meet you," she whispered. "So incredibly pleased."

  As she pulled back it hit me.

  "Holy shit!" I caught her hand. "You're Karen Q. You host the Wicked Women podcast!"

  The three of them burst out laughing.

  "Told you she'd know who you are," Jay said, throwing an arm around Karen. "You've got to face it, Karrie, you're a—" He raised a hand to punctuate his words. "—big deal."

  She waved him off. "I run a podcast, that's all."

  "A freaking great one." Will gestured toward the sounds of screams coming from the back of the house. "We should go rescue Sam before the Princess kills him. Frankie, would you like a drink?"

  I trailed him in a daze, listening to Jay tease Karen and give Will shit.

  They were a lovely family, welcoming me with open arms and open questions. There was the occasional teasing probe from Karen or Sam, but for the most part dinner went without a hitch, and seeing Jay interact with his family did strange things to my heart.

  Strange but wonderful things.

  We sat nursing beers on Jay's back deck, stomach full of hamburgers and salad, watching Sam chase Janeane around the yard.

  "Mom!" Janeane screamed, dodging Sam's half-hearted tag effort. "Jay! Come play!"

  They both heaved to their feet with groans, Jay dropping a kiss to my forehead as he passed. "Be right back." He paused, turning back to wiggle a finger at his father. "Don't chase her off."

  If you didn't look closely you might have assumed he'd been teasing. But I caught the flash in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the last lingering glance my way as he moved to play with his sister.

 

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