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Authors: Sarah Morgan

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BOOK: Sunset In Central Park
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“Thanks, team.” Matt opened his bag and took out his camera. He handed it to Roxy. “You have the best eye. Take some photos for our website.”

Pleased to be asked, Roxy walked away and James followed her.

“So that’s it. We’re done.” Frankie felt a little pang. No more roof terrace.

From next week she’d be back in the office with Paige and Eva. She loved her friends and she loved Urban Genie, but she was going to miss working with Matt nearly every day.

“We are done. And thank you.” He offered her a bottle of water and she took it gratefully.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For helping us out. We wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

“You would have found someone.”

“But not the best, and I wanted the best.” He tapped his bottle of water against hers. “We can pretend this is champagne.”

“After hauling half a ton of soil around the place, I’d take water over champagne any day.”

“I hope that’s not true because I’m taking you to dinner tonight to celebrate.”

“You mean like a date?”

“Not
like
a date,” he drawled. “It
is
a date.”

“Sounds good to me.” She thought about how much things had changed in less than two months.

Then, she’d been nervous about having dinner with him, and now they were virtually living together.

With Roxy in her apartment, the option to move back downstairs had been removed.

At one time that would have panicked her, but not now.

There was a new intimacy to their relationship.

“So this dinner—am I dressing up?”

“You are. It’s an excuse to wear your starfish necklace.”

“I’ve worn it almost every day since we came back from Puffin Island.”

“We should go back there soon. Make a trip to see the baby before the weather turns cold.”

Emily had given birth to a little boy a few weeks earlier. They’d called him Finn after a friend of Ryan’s, a photo-journalist who had been killed while reporting from Afghanistan.

According to Ryan, mother and baby were doing well, and little Lizzy was so in love with baby Finn it was touching.

“That sounds good.” Just how good, surprised her. Just as she was surprised by how much she loved being in a relationship with Matt. It made her giddy and dizzy with excitement.

She’d never had a long relationship before, but she was loving every minute of it.

When she was wrapped up in Urban Genie work, they talked and texted regularly and she found herself telling him all sorts of things she’d never told anyone before. Somehow Matt had become a key element of her life. She found herself wanting to share every little thing with him.

She’d been wrong to think that she wasn’t capable of having a relationship, she thought happily. Wrong to think she couldn’t trust.

It had been a gradual process, but little by little things had changed.

She trusted Matt totally.

She trusted their relationship.

She’d never been happier.

Chapter Eighteen

Life is like a seagull. You never know when it’s going to drop something nasty on your head.

—Frankie

F
rankie was half-asleep in Matt’s arms when her phone beeped.

“It’s Sunday morning. Who is texting me this early on a Sunday morning? If it’s Paige, I’m resigning.” With a groan, she reached out her hand and picked her phone up.

It was Roxy.

Warning! Your mom is on the way up.

Her mom?

“Matt, get up!” She sprang out of bed. “My mother is here.”

He eased himself onto his elbow. “It’s a little early, but that doesn’t constitute an emergency, does it?”

“Yes! I’m naked in your bed and I’m living in your apartment.” And she didn’t want her mother to know. And the reason for that was too complicated to explore right now. She searched frantically for her clothes, some of which were strewn across the floor. In desperation, she grabbed one of Matt’s T-shirts and managed to get herself jammed inside it. “This T-shirt doesn’t fit. How can it not fit when it’s too big for me?” She felt Matt’s hands on the fabric as he carefully extracted her.

He did it the way he did everything. Thoughtful, calm and measured.

“You’re trying to put your head through the armhole. You need to calm down. What’s the panic?”

“The panic is my mother.” Wishing some of his calm would transfer itself to her, she grabbed her hair, freeing it. “I don’t want her to know I’m living here.”

“Why?”

“Because she ruins everything, Matt. You have no idea. She’ll embarrass me. She’ll embarrass
you
—”

“Do you really think anything your mother does could change the way I feel about you?”

Something in his voice made her pause and glance at him, but his expression revealed nothing.

How could she explain that what they had was special and perfect and she didn’t want it tainted?

“You don’t know her.”

“I’ve known her almost as long as I’ve known you.”

“But you’ve never seen her in full flow. You don’t know what she’s capable of.” She stumbled as she pulled on her yoga pants. “What is she even doing here?
Please
get dressed. If my mother sees your chest, I can’t promise you’ll be safe.”

She closed the door between the bedroom and the living room and reached the door as her mother pressed the bell.

Crap, why couldn’t she have a normal mother? Someone who called a few days before and arranged Sunday lunch?

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. “Mom! This is a surprise.” So was the realization that she’d forgotten her underwear. She was naked under her yoga pants and her breasts were loose and free.

Fortunately, her mother seemed distracted. “I went downstairs first. You didn’t tell me you’d moved.”

“It’s only temporary—”

“You lent your apartment to that sweet girl with the baby. I know. I apologized for waking her, but she told me that she’d been up since five.”

Frankie wondered what else Roxy had told her mother. “What are you doing here, Mom?”

“You’re my daughter!” Her mother’s voice rose. “Do I need an excuse to visit my daughter?”

“It’s eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.”

“You’re always up early. You were the same when you were little. You and your father, thick as thieves, giggling away as you planned your adventure for the day.” It sounded like an accusation, and Frankie tensed in anticipation of the conversation that lay ahead.

Were they going to be revisiting the past or was this about the present? More excruciating details of her mother’s current relationship?

“Come in. I’ll make some coffee.”

“Thank you.” Her mother’s tone was brittle and she was paler than usual. “What are you wearing? It looks like something you bought in a man’s store. It swamps you.”

Given that it was Matt’s T-shirt, Frankie decided not to answer that. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving, but I don’t want to eat. I have this body because I watch what I eat. I look after myself. I exercise, I have a really tight butt—”

Frankie cringed and hoped Matt wasn’t listening. “You’re looking great, Mom.”

“So why do men leave me?” Her mother’s face crumpled. “Why do men always leave me? What do I do wrong?”

Frankie froze, caught unawares by the sudden eruption of emotions. “Dev left you?”

“He said he wanted to find someone his own age who could give him babies. I told him having kids is overrated but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

Frankie wondered why remarks like that still upset her. “I didn’t know you were serious about him.”

“Neither did I. But it turns out I am. We had fun together.” She started to sob and the sound hammered away at the barrier Frankie had erected between herself and her mother.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Shaking, she put her arms around her mother and guided her to the sofa. Listening to her sobs made her chest ache. She was right back there, fourteen years old and faced with a parent who could barely drag herself out of bed every morning. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“How can it be? I’m fifty-four next month. Fifty-four. My life is over.”

“It’s not over, Mom.”

“I will never, ever find a man I can depend on.” She flung her arms around Frankie, enveloping her like an octopus as she sobbed onto her shoulder. “You’re the sensible one, not
me. You’ve built a life that doesn’t involve men. You have a great job, lovely friends and most of all you’re independent. You never, ever give away your heart. You have more sense.”

Frankie thought about Matt, getting dressed in the next room.

She thought about all the things they’d shared. The deeply personal parts of herself and her life that she’d revealed to him and she desperately tried to block out the small, traitorous voice inside her that was telling her to listen to her mother.

“Mom—”

“What? You’re going to tell me this is my own fault for getting involved. And you’d be right.” She blew her nose hard. “You’re right to avoid relationships, Frankie. This is what they do to you.” The tears flowed and Frankie held her mother while she cried, just as she’d done all those years before.

She tried to block the emotions, or at least filter them, but familiar feelings flowed back through her, an ugly mix of panic and helplessness. “Don’t cry, Mom. He’s not worth it.”

“I know.” But still she cried and still Frankie held her, her brain and her heart numb.

Matt appeared, holding coffee.

Over her mother’s head, her gaze met his.

He looked rumpled and sexy and she felt dizzy with longing.

She wanted to run to him and feel those strong arms close around her, protecting her from thoughts she didn’t want to have. Instead of the voice inside her, she wanted to hear
his
voice telling her in a calm, rational way that everything was going to be okay. And that in itself was terrifying.

She’d worked hard to ensure she didn’t need reassurance from anyone but herself.

She protected herself. That was what she did. That was how she lived.

What did it matter whether her issues came from her father or her mother? Nothing changed the fact that they were there.

How had she let herself get this involved? Being with Matt had melted away the protective shell she’d worn for most of her life, and now instead of feeling strong she felt exposed and vulnerable.

Panic rippled through her.

What had she done?

“I should be going.” Gina peeled herself away from Frankie. “I just wanted you to know that I’ll be moving in with Brad so I have a new address.”

Frankie was barely listening. “Who is Brad?”

“He owns the restaurant where Dev and I ate all the time. He saw how upset I was and offered me a room. Don’t look at me like that, Francesca.” She sniffed and took another tissue from the box. “I’ve finally learned my lesson. This is temporary.”

Until the next person came along, Frankie thought.

Matt must have seen something in her face because he put the coffee down and walked across the room.

“I’ll call you a cab, Gina.”

“Oh, Matt. Always so strong and protective. I wish we could clone you.” Her mother stood up and picked up her purse. “I’ll be in touch, Frankie.”

“Yes.” Frankie’s lips felt numb. All of her felt numb.

The happy, euphoric feeling had evaporated. It was as
if her mother had crawled inside her head and stamped all over her dreams.

Relationships went wrong. It was a fact of life. Even Matt couldn’t argue with that.

And when it went wrong she’d lose all this. Every single thing that mattered to her.

How would she cope with it?

She’d be so much worse off than she’d been before, because she wouldn’t even have Matt’s friendship and she couldn’t imagine how bleak her life would look without him in it.

She sat, immobilized by her own dark thoughts.

She heard the door open and close, and then came the sound of Matt’s footsteps on the wooden floor.

Still, she didn’t move. Said nothing until he dropped into a crouch in front of her.

“Talk to me.”

What was she supposed to say? She looked at him, her brain so infected by panic she couldn’t think straight. “What about?”

“I want to know what she said to you. Every word.” He was steady and calm. “And I want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking that you should be with Eva.” The misery rolled over her like the tide enveloping a beach. A strand of hair flopped over her eyes but she didn’t even bother pushing it away. “She’s romantic like you. She thinks people mate for life, like ducks as she always says. You should go swim in the pond with her.”

“There’s only one thing wrong with that plan.” Gently, he tucked the misbehaving strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not in love with Eva.”

“You should be. She’s perfect for you. The pair of you could dance off into the sunset, tripping over happy-ever-afters for the rest of your life, singing like a couple of fairy-tale characters with little blue birds fluttering everywhere.”

“The person who is perfect for you is the person you’re in love with.” Matt’s thumb stroked gently over her cheek. “That’s you, Frankie.”

She couldn’t breathe.

Was he saying—?

Did he mean—?

Now it was her heart that was fluttering. “Don’t say that, Matt.” Her voice cracked. If she’d felt panic before, she felt terror now. “Don’t spoil everything.” She felt as if she was poised on the edge of a cliff and he was about to push her off.

“How does telling you that I love you spoil everything?” His tone hadn’t changed but there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. “I know I haven’t said it until now, but I thought you’d guessed how I felt.”

“I didn’t—” The panic was lodged in her throat. “I can’t. You’re crazy.”

“I happen to think I’m lucky, not crazy.”

“Lucky? To be screwing a mixed-up person like me?”

“I’m not screwing you.” His hand slid behind her neck, gentle but firm at the same time. “I’ve never screwed you, Frankie. I’ve made love to you. Over and over again.”

Her tummy flipped. “Same thing. Just fancier words.”

He pulled her to her feet and curved his arms around her. “
Not
the same thing.”

“You’ll change your mind once you get to know me.”

“I know you, Frankie. And I’m not going to change my mind.” He smoothed his hand over her hair and took a deep
breath. “I hadn’t planned on saying this now. I was waiting for the right moment, but I don’t even know what the right moment looks like, so maybe right now is as good a time as any.”

It wasn’t a good time. It was the worst possible time. She tried desperately to stop him talking.

“Matt, please—I don’t want to—”

“I can’t tell you exactly when I woke up and realized I was in love with you, but it was a long time ago.”

He’d been in love with her for a long time?

Her emotions tumbled over themselves, so many different ones she could no longer untangle them. Fear, trepidation and excitement were there and, underneath, a deep, primal thrill that came from the knowledge that this man loved her. “How long?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years, and I thought I knew you really well. And then I discovered I’d barely scratched the surface.”

“You mean you discovered all the things I’m hiding. I’m surprised you didn’t run a mile.”

“You were carrying around all these feelings and secrets and finding out about those has made me care more, not less.”

“Because you felt sorry for me?”

“Because you’re the person I always knew you were. Sensitive, gentle, funny, generous and very, very sexy. I know you, and I know I love you. The only thing I don’t know is how you feel.” There was a long pause loaded with meaning and expectation and then he eased her away from him. “This would be a good moment for you to tell me.”

No, it wasn’t. It was a bad moment. A really bad moment.

“I—” Oh God, how
did
she feel? Excited, panicked,
sick—a horrible cocktail of stomach-churning emotions that she couldn’t disentangle.

“Frankie?” He was patient, but she knew what he was waiting to hear. And she sensed something else, too. A tension, a taut pressure, that she’d never seen in him before.

He’d asked her a serious question and he deserved an honest answer.

But she had no idea what answer she could honestly give.

She tried to work out how she felt, but her head still rang with the sound of her mother’s sobs.

“I don’t know,” she said desperately. “I need more time. I have to think.”

Something shadowed his expression. Pain. Disappointment. Weary resignation. “I see.”

His tone was just a little cooler than usual and she felt a flash of panic and deep regret.

She’d hurt him.

“Matt—” She tried to explain. “All my life I’ve seen relationships go wrong. You said you understood.” She badly wanted him to reassure her, as he always did, but this time he was silent and when he finally spoke he sounded tired.

“I do understand. But I’ve been trying to show you the other side of that. And I’d hoped that by now you’d see that what we share is strong and real.”

BOOK: Sunset In Central Park
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