That One Day (That One #1.5) (26 page)

Our conversation was interrupted by swearing coming from somewhere upstairs.

“Crap, motherfucking shit.”

“Stinker, you okay?” Dave shouted, barely containing his laughter.

“Yeah, I’ll be downstairs in a sec,” she yelled down and then mumbled to the object of her rage, “Fucking piece of shit.”

“Your sister is such a charmer,” I joked.

“Yeah, can’t you just see her at a sweet sixteen party with a pink gown and high heels?” He guffawed.

“Totally, you forgot to mention the tiara and the flying pigs.”

We were both laughing at the surreal image when Frankie came downstairs.

I looked up and said “Hi” before bringing my attention to my burger again, taking a bite, but stopping mid-chew. What the hell? I must have seen things wrong. I looked back up, not believing my eyes.

Frankie was standing in front of us, her hair flowing down her shoulders in soft waves instead of her trademark ponytail. Her green eyes looked bigger than usually, makeup giving them a cat-like shape. Her lips glistened with what I supposed must have been lip gloss. I was taken aback...she looked fucking gorgeous. Not that she looked ugly before, but I’ve rarely seen her in anything other than ripped jeans, camisoles, and Chucks. Now she was wearing a knee-length dress. The top had black and white stripes, a sailor style kind of design. The high waist of the skirt started right under her breasts and hugged every curve, accentuating her slim waist and her ass. She had paired it with her black Dr. Martens, giving it an edgy, sexy look. Shit, no, I didn’t think of her as sexy. Not at all. And yet my eyes kept roaming up and down her body checking out every curve. Jesus, she looked fucking hot.

“Why are you all dolled up, Stinker?”

“I have a date,” she explained. “And the strap of my damn purse tore so I had to borrow one of Mom’s pricey leather bags. Just don’t tell her.” She held up the simple black handbag.

I should have been concentrating on what she and Dave were talking about, but I was too fucking mesmerized by her in this outfit. When the fuck did she grow up? And how did I miss it? I wondered what she was wearing underneath the dress. Shit, I shouldn’t have been wondering that. Yet, I couldn't stop my heart from speeding up and my mouth from going dry. Shit, shit, shit.

“So who is the guy who’s worth you shedding your favorite jeans and wearing something girly?” Dave teased while munching on some fries.

“Eric,” is all that she said.

“Eric, the senior? The football player? That Eric?” Dave asked.

She nodded. “Yep, that one.”

“He’s a dick,” I said, knowing full well it wasn't the truth and not willing to look into why I had just said that.

“Look who’s talking,” she replied.

“Why would you go out with him? You two have nothing in common?” I continued, not able to keep my fucking mouth shut. Anything to stop her from going out with him. Why, I didn't know.

“Not like I plan to marry him. He’s cute. And he asked me out on a date. Still better than hanging out with you assholes.” She gave me a pointed look, a flicker of hurt shining in her eyes.

Before I could say anything else, Dave intercepted. “He’s an okay guy. Just be careful and if you’re uncomfortable, call me, okay?”

What? He was just letting her go out with some dude? A senior at that. Not much younger than me.

She gave Dave a peck on the cheek. “Thanks. But if he makes me feel uncomfortable, my knee to his groin will do the same to him.”

Grinning mischievously, she got up. “I’ll wait for him outside. Don’t really want him to have to put up with you two, or your manners for that matter.”

“Just tell him Dave said hi. The same Dave who beat him up in middle school.”

She just waved at him while she made her way to the door.

“Stinker,” Dave called after her, “you look great.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, great,” I muttered, staring off into space, wondering what the fuck just happened here.

Dave pulled out his phone, quickly shooting off a message, grinning to himself the whole time. “I just texted Eric, to make sure he knows if he hurts my sister or tries any funny business, he’ll relive some middle school moments.”

I just nodded absentmindedly.

“You all right, man?” Dave asked, stuffing his mouth with the burger again.

“Yeah, great,” I repeated, although nothing was great. Nothing at all. I was falling for Dave’s little sister.

My reminiscing is interrupted by her shifting slightly, wiggling her ass against me. My cock instantly responds, getting even harder than it already was.

“Keep that up and we’ll be going for round two,” I growl.

She stays quiet. Her only response is another wiggle. Jesus, I have no chance to withstand her.

So round two it is, until we are both out of breath, sweaty, and exhausted. It’s the best I’ve felt in years, and this time, I fall asleep with her in my arms, praying she’ll never come to regret giving Archer my name.

New Year’s Eve has arrived. Well, the morning anyway. I wake up as pain radiates through my right eye.

“Ow, what the…” I groan, opening my eyes, blinking a few times through the tears caused by the intrusion of a tiny finger.

“Archer, stop poking Daddy in the eye,” Frankie tries to explain to Archer, holding his hands in hers while he’s now trying to reach her eye with his right index finger. “Sorry, Ben. All I did was turn around for a second to put his teddy on the nightstand.” She gives me an apologetic look.

“No problem, I’m sure I can rock an eye patch really well,” I joke.

“Oooh, you could be the pirate and I’d be the princess.” Frankie wiggles her eyebrows while grinning mischievously.

“Babe, you’re more likely to be the wench. No princess has your kind of vocabulary.”

“You didn’t complain about my swearing yesterday.” She’s referring to the sex we had in the shed while Archer was in the living room playing with the rest of the gang. She was muttering profanities when I bent her over the workbench and made both of us come so hard we were seeing stars.

I have no chance for a comeback as Archer is hell-bent on maiming me this morning. He climbs on top of me kicking me in the balls in the process.

“Ugh.”

Frankie grabs him around the waist and pulls him to her.

“You’re a little menace today, aren’t you?” She laughs, tickling him. “Don’t hurt your daddy’s best assets.”

I watch them, Frankie laughing and Archer giggling and fuck, it’s perfect. Every morning since Christmas I’ve been waking up and every night falling asleep next to her, spending time with Archer during the day. It doesn’t get better than this.

***

Everyone is sitting sprawled out in the living room or sunroom later that day. Dean and Alex are back from their Christmas vacation, Dave is still here, and Mrs. Walsh has joined us, as well as Vince and his girlfriend Marge. Viv is off-call, too.

It’s not late yet, so Archer is crawling around, vying for everyone’s attention. Frankie sits on the floor in front of me, leaning against my legs, while Dean reads his tarot cards for her. I tried to pay attention, but they lost me about three cards in. I happily go along with the eco-friendly lifestyle and natural healing methods, but this stuff is just too out there for me.

I watch her and Dean study the cards closely, arguing about their meaning, when Archer crawls toward them. I’m about to warn them, but it’s too late. He crawls over the spread out cards, mixing them up in the process.

“You little monkey, you.” Frankie draws him closer, blowing a raspberry on his neck. “You don’t want Momma to find out what’ll happen next year, huh?”

“He just knows it’s all bullshit.” Dave winks at his sister. “Don’t you, little man?” He takes Archer out of her arms and sets him on his lap, but Archer climbs right off again and into Marge’s lap, fascinated by the cake she’s eating.

I bend down so my lips make contact with Frankie’s ear. “I can tell you what the upcoming year has in store for you.”

She tries to stay indifferent, to play tough, giving me a skeptical look when she asks, “And what would that be?” But her body gives her away. Her arms are covered in goosebumps.

“You’ll be having lots and lots of sex with an amazing guy. Good-looking, smart, hot body—the real deal,” I whisper.

“Wait, what? I’m going to meet Gerard Butler? Wow,” she deadpans, giving me a sassy grin.

“Oh, you’re in trouble,” I say, wanting to get hold of her, but she scrambles to her feet, jumps over Vince’s outstretched legs and starts running, barely making the corner of the couch.

“I’ll catch you and when I do, you’ll pay,” I shout after her, getting up myself and taking off after her.

“Tsk, you don’t scare me.” She might talk tough, but as soon as I get closer, she takes off again, screeching “Shit” on the way.

She dashes into the kitchen and I follow her, blocking off the exit. “Where you gonna go now, babe?”

The living room has turned quiet and I suspect they’re all watching us. I know for sure when Dave’s voice breaks through the standoff Frankie and I are having.

“Great, another round of listening to my best friend bang my sister’s brains out.”

“Shut up, ass-face,” Frankie says while keeping her eyes on me.

I take one step forward while watching with amusement as she bounces from one foot to another, trying to figure out what route of escape to take.

“You need to pee, babe?” I nod my head at her bouncing feet.

“Ah, bite me. I’m just making sure I’m ready to run.”

“Yeah, like that’s gonna help you.”

I’m closing in on her, but she spins around and runs like a bat out of hell toward the side door, leading out to the porch. She’s wearing only socks and there are a couple inches of snow covering the ground. It doesn’t stop her, even when she slips and nearly falls, catching herself with both hands. I’ve got to give it to her though when she gets up and keeps running.

“Babe, give up. We both know you’re out of breath and craving a donut right about now,” I tease with a laugh while going after her. I could easily catch up, but this is just too much fun, so I keep some distance.

“Never,” she pants, as she bounds down the stairs to the driveway. I look back toward the house to find Viv, Dave with Archer in his arms, and Mrs. Walsh at the windows, watching our little show.

“I can keep this up for hours. You’ll only end up losing a toe from frostbite.”

She points to my own sock clad feet. “I’m not the only one.”

“On the other hand, when I catch up to you, a missing toe will be the least of your problems.”

“Not when,
if
you catch me.” She sticks out her tongue and walks backwards. I can see she’s trying to make as little contact with the cold ground as possible; her feet are probably frozen and full of pins and needles, but she doesn’t give up.

“Babe, I thought I already caught you,” I say, giving her the puppy look I know she loves. Her features soften and she bites her lip. I use the distraction caused by my words to my advantage, running toward her. Before she can react, I have her thrown over my shoulder and walk us back toward the house.

“That wasn’t fair.” Huffing, she slaps my ass. “Let me down.”

I ignore her, squeeze her ass, and walk through the door and up the stairs. “We’ll be right back,” I say to the others who are back in their spots on the couch, grins plastered on their faces.

“Take your time, Ben. No woman appreciates the wham, bam, thank you ma’am thing,” Viv quips following it up with a dirty laugh.

Frankie has resorted to pinching my butt, but through the jeans and with her short nails, it’s barely more than a tickle.

I walk into her room, our room now, kick the door shut with my foot, and drop her on the bed.

I crawl on top of her before she can move away. She immediately stills and stares up at me, licking her lip.

Ignoring the fact that I can feel her nipples harden through the fabric of her bra and shirt, I kiss the tip of her nose.

“Ben, we can’t do this. Everyone is downstairs.”

Smirking at her, I ask, “Do what?”

“Have sex. They all know we’re up here.”

“Hmmm, who said we’re going to have sex, babe?”

Her eyebrows draw together in confusion and her lips scrunch up into a pout.

“We still have things to discuss. So tell me, who is the good-looking, smart guy with the hot body again? And I’ll give you a hint…it’s not Butler.”

“Hmmm,” she says, pursing her lips and looking up. “Oh, I know. Brad Pitt.”

“Wrong. Let’s try again.” I glare at her, my hand wandering down to her hip. I know she won’t give up this easily, but I know the perfect weapon.

“Not Butler, not Pitt. Well, then it’s quite simple. It must be Clooney. No way around it.” Frankie giggles, her eyes sparkling with laughter and mischief.

“You do realize the age difference between them and me, right?”

Giving me a sassy look, she squirms, trying to free herself. “I just see your potential, Ben.”

My hand arrives at her hipbone and I press my fingers slightly into her side, knowing it’s her ticklish spot.

“That was a warning, babe. One last chance,” I growl.

Her smirk gets bigger. “Okay, okay. How about Charlie Hunnam, Luke Evans, or Chris Pratt?”

“Damn, wrong answer again. Time to pay.” My fingers bore into her side, finding just the right spot. It was Dave’s secret weapon against Frankie when we were younger.

Instantly, she starts laughing, squirming, and squealing—all at once. Her squeals are interrupted by pleading. “Stop, please, God, Ben, stop.” I don’t, instead I tickle her harder. She laughs so hard tears are running down her face and her squeals nearly burst my ear drums. She’s wriggling underneath me, but her attempts are futile. Her hands come up to my shoulders, trying to push me away, but I just concentrate on her weak spot and she gives up as more laughter shakes her body. This is too much fun.

“Okay, okay. You win. You…” She tries to catch her breath between words. “You are the smartest, sexiest, most amazing, and only man I’ll be having the most amazing sex with.”

“Was that so difficult?” I ask, flipping us over so we’re lying on our sides facing one another. My hand strokes her cheek, wiping away the tears.

Neither of us speaks, enjoying the moment instead. She leans her face into my hand and looks at me, before taking ahold of it and kissing each knuckle gently.

“There’ll only ever be you, Ben.”

I pull her closer, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you, babe.”

Her face breaks out into a big smile and her eyes get a bit watery. “I love you, too.” She kisses me, her tongue tracing my lips.

“I think we should go downstairs before Dave hurts his throat dry-heaving, thinking we’re screwing up here.” She sits up, pulling me with her. “But first we might want to put on dry socks.”

Back downstairs, we sit on the couch. Archer is snuggled up to Frankie, dozing off, while I’m attempting to warm up her feet resting in my lap.

Everyone is either eating or talking. There’s enough food on the table to feed the whole neighborhood.

“When do your classes start again?” I throw a candy wrapper at Dave to catch his attention.

Frankie perks up, her curiosity awakened. She sits up straighter, her eyes darting to her brother. Such a little gossip.

Dave clears his throat, not looking at either of us.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Frankie asks.

“I mean, I don’t know.”

Frankie hands Archer over to me and even asleep, he goes straight for the teething jewelry, while his mother leans forward, staring Dave down.

“How can you not know? What aren’t you telling me?”

Dave looks up to the ceiling. “I dropped out. A while ago. Never transferred back to Michigan.”

My mouth falls open. “Holy shit.”

Frankie scoots forward on the couch. “Oh my God. How? Do Mom and Dad know?”

Dave shakes his head and Frankie’s eyes go wide.

“How can they not know? Don’t they pay your tuition?” I ask, wondering how the hell he managed to get this past their parents.

“They transfer the money to my account and I pay the tuition. Their way of teaching me to be responsible with money. I’ve been investing it with the help of a friend and it tripled since.”

“What wood do you prefer, Dave?” Frankie asks, her face serious. I have no idea where she’s going with the question. And judging by Dave’s expression he doesn’t either. “Mahogany, pine, oak?”

“Did you smoke something, Stinker?” Dave asks her, still not catching on. I grin, having realized what’s coming next.

“Oh, you know. I just want to know what casket to choose for you once Mom and Dad find out.” She laughs, shaking her head in bewilderment. “The prodigal son, wow, that’s gonna hurt.”

Dave throws a cushion at Frankie, hitting her in the head. As usual her reply is anything but ladylike. She flips him off and when I laugh, she does the same to me.

The discussion is far from over, so once Archer is napping in the sunroom, we continue talking about Dave’s plans. He’s considering moving here and opening a bar with a college buddy. I’m fucking excited. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve come to like Viv, Alex, and Dean, but it’s not the same.

Dave and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. That isn’t something easily replaced. It’d be nice to be able to hang out with him again, play video games and football, and have that easy camaraderie which comes with years and years of friendship. The New Year is gearing up to be a great one.

Before midnight rolls around, we turn on the TV, waiting to watch the ball drop in Times Square. Frankie and I are leaning against the kitchen counter, our attention more on each other than the living room.

Everyone joins in when the countdown starts, but Frankie turns to me instead.