Muffin Top (Page 10)

That was exactly the last thing he needed to be doing. His dick was not in charge. Shannon’s words about him only being a good-time guy echoed in his head. Fucking A. He clenched his eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath. What in the hell was wrong with him? Could dudes be nymphomaniacs?

Of course, that’s when the unmistakable crunch of cop shoes on gravel sounded, forcing him to open his eyes and bring his attention back to his window. Never had he been so glad to see one of the boys in blue—or in this case tan and brown.

“So here’s your license and registration back,” the cop said, handing him that along with an all-too-familiar piece of paper. “And your ticket. There’s information on the back about how to pay or dispute it.”

“Got it.” He nodded. “Thanks.”

“Just be sure to slow down,” the officer said with the tip of his wide-brimmed hat.

He watched the officer walk back through the rearview mirror. Sure, he was delaying the inevitable shit-talking smackdown that the woman in the passenger seat was about to deliver, but he did have an ego and he was about to be out three bills.

“Eighteen hours,” Lucy said, teasing him like only his family did. “I should’ve made you bet dinner on it.”

“Miss Scarlett isn’t done showing off yet,” he said as he turned the key in the ignition.

Then he turned it again.

And again.

Miss Scarlett turned over, but the engine didn’t roar to life. He counted to ten and tried again. The engine turned but nothing happened after that.

“Please tell me you’re just giving me shit,” Lucy said, lowering her sunglasses and showing off her mossy green hazel eyes.

He sure wished he was. “Nope.”

Holding his breath as if that would help, he tried again. Nothing. Miss Scarlett was officially not speaking to him. What was it with the women in his life lately? Grudgingly, he admitted defeat and took the keys out of the ignition. There was only one thing to do.

“I’ll be right back,” he said before getting out of the car and walking back to the cruiser still parked behind them.

An hour later, he and Lucy were sitting shoulder to shoulder in the front cab of a tow truck, pulling into the Black and Gold Garage that was decorated with window clings of the ice-skating penguin mascot of one of the Ice Knights’ most hated hockey rivals.

“That’s not a good sign.” Lucy jerked her chin toward the penguin.

It wasn’t. Thirty minutes later, after finding out that Billy, the shop’s one mechanic, was home with a sick kid and wouldn’t be back to look at Miss Scarlett until the morning, he and Lucy were on the front steps of Katy K’s Bed and Breakfast. Everything screamed delicate and cute, from the intricate wooden scrollwork on the wraparound porch to the baby pink bistro table and chairs set in the middle of a garden bordered by shrubbery shaped and trimmed to look like Alice in Wonderland characters. It gave him the heebie-jeebies. Still, it was their best shot at overnight accommodations, according to the woman behind the repair shop’s counter.

He lifted his hand to knock on the front door, but it swung open before his knuckles could hit wood, revealing a woman who was five foot nothing, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, and was wearing a necklace with a ginormous wooden cross hanging from it.

“You must be the sweet couple Maureen called me about,” she said. “I’m Katy Kendrick and I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

“The bad news,” he and Lucy said at the same time.

“This is our busy season, with it being high school reunion time and all, so the only room I have available is our smallest one, and we’ve been using it for storage so it’s pretty crowded with boxes.”

Room? Just one? That wasn’t great, but it definitely could be worse.

“Not a problem,” he said. “We’re just grateful to have a place to sleep tonight.”

“Wonderful.” Katy looked up at them with a sweet look on her face that made him think of puppies and unicorns. “And I just love your wedding ring.” She ducked her head toward the sapphire ring on Lucy’s left ring finger. “We run a good, Christian establishment, so it’s such a relief you’re a married couple. I’m not sure what we’d have done otherwise.”

He froze. Solid. Like one of those people cursed in mythology. He would have thought he’d learned to bluff with all the poker he’d played, but no, he sucked at lying almost as much as he sucked at building decks.

“Three years and he still insists on carrying all of my luggage. Can you believe it?” Lucy said, smooth as a velvet Elvis painting as she slipped her arm through Katy’s and led the woman into the house, leaving him with the three suitcases on the porch. “So, tell me about this adorable B and B.”

The rest of what they were saying was lost as the two women walked down the hall while Frankie watched, a little awed and a whole lot scared. Not shrivel-his-balls scared, more of like that thrill of oh-my-God-yes that happened right before he walked into a burning building when everyone else was running out. Fallon was right, Lucy was not to be messed with, but not for why his sister thought. It wasn’t that Lucy wouldn’t survive—he might not.

That odd awareness buzzed through him as he picked up the bags and carried them inside to where the women were standing just inside a room at the top of the stairs.

“I know it’ll be a tight fit,” Katy said.

Lucy turned and gave him a look that managed to say “oh shit” and “keep your mouth shut” at the same time. Now that was a skill. He found out the reason for it a few seconds later when he peeked over the top of the women’s heads. The room was small, but that wasn’t the problem. It was the practically wall-to-wall boxes that left a narrow walkway from the door to the connected bathroom and around the double—yes double—bed in the middle of the room.

“Don’t you worry about it,” Lucy said to the other woman. “This is far from a crisis.”

Frankie took another look at the bed, trying to figure out how he could fit his six-foot-six-inch frame on it, let alone how the two of them would fit on it without becoming a pretzel of intertwined limbs and some serious spooning. The mental image of having Lucy’s soft curves against him had an immediate and very hardening effect.

Not a crisis? Unless the bathtub was big enough for his ass, that was exactly what this was.

Chapter Five

“Don’t even touch it.”

Frankie glanced down at the bill the waitress at the diner had dropped off along with his slice of pecan pie. And this is how it was going to go with Lucy. He shouldn’t be surprised. The woman didn’t have an easy bone in her body.

“Why not?” He toyed with the edge of the bill. He couldn’t help it. He liked watching her get all fired up.

She narrowed her eyes and reached for the receipt. “I’m covering food and board during this trip.”

“Are you saying that I’m a kept man?” he asked, not letting go when she tugged at the narrow piece of paper signed with hearts and ten digits that looked like a phone number.

Lucy snorted and tugged again. “That would indicate someone wanted to keep you.”

Now that sliced like his fork through the delicious goo hiding underneath the pecans in his pie. It must have shown on his face, too, because Lucy’s bright red lips drooped just a bit.