Free Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty - Frankie (Novella) by Jackie Ashenden Page B

her down the hallway to the little lounge area at the back of the house.
    The room wasn’t much, just a couch her dad had given him, a coffee table salvaged from the pub, and a bookshelf he’d knocked up himself from some bits of wood he’d found in the barn. But it was his. And a shitload better than the crappy place he had been living in with his dad in the city.
    Coming out here to be with his mother in Milpinyani had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. Here he had a job, a purpose, and it was the reason why he was still here even though his mum was long since out of the picture.
    Frankie went over to the couch and sat down, her palms wiping down her jeans again, something she always did when she was nervous. Which was strange, as she’d never been nervous talking to him about the property before.
    ‘Beer?’ he offered.
    ‘Uh … yeah. That’d be good.’ She wiped her hands yet again, nibbling on her bottom lip with small white teeth, another nervous tic. A sexy one.
    Fuck, he needed to stop thinking about her and sexiness.
    Turning, he went into the tiny kitchen and tugged open the fridge, grabbing out a couple of beers and pulling the caps off.
    If she’d been any other woman, he’d have been on her in a shot. But she wasn’t. She was the daughter of the man who’d been more of a father to him than his own and Mac had nothing but respect for her. Plus she was technically his stepsister.
    Yeah, but not since the divorce went through, right?
    Mac told his brain to shut the fuck up and went back into the lounge.
    Frankie was staring into space, frowning slightly, as if she was trying to remember something. As he came back in, she started and, inexplicably, blushed.
    Her awkwardness around him was adorable and always made him want to tease her. Which was a Very. Bad. Idea. In his experience teasing led to flirting, which in turn led to kissing, which then led to sex. And he could not think about Frankie in terms of sex. Nope. Never.
    Speaking of, how long has it been again? Three months?
    Yeah, longest drought ever, but wasn’t he not going to be thinking about that? Pushing the thought firmly away, Mac went over to her and handed her the bottle.
    She took it in slim fingers and sat forward, an elbow on her knee as she took a sip.
    Man, she was sexy in her jeans and t-shirts, and cute little purple socks. The way she was sitting revealed a small scrap of pale blue lace at her shoulder. A bra strap.
    You know this has to stop, right? One way or another.
    ‘Mac,’ she said, lowering her bottle, those big blue eyes of hers fixing on his. ‘I’m grateful for the way you’ve been around since Dad died, helping out and … stuff. D-don’t think that I’m not. But …’ Her jaw firmed. ‘I want to buy you out. I think it’s time you m-moved on.’
    ***
    Something flared in Mac’s amber gaze then vanished just as quickly. ‘Uh-huh,’ was all he said. And raised his beer bottle, taking a long sip.
    Frankie bit her lip, her throat dry, feeling shaky and ridiculous. It had taken her three beers at the pub to get enough Dutch courage to lay out the facts like that and his response was ‘uh-huh’? Typical bloody Mac.
    Resisting the urge to scrub her hands down her legs for the millionth time, she stared at him, finding herself transfixed by the long, brown column of his throat. By the movement of it, as he swallowed the beer.
    Her palms itched.
    What would his skin feel like? Hot? Smooth?
    Heat rose in her cheeks. Yeah, this so had to stop. This being in love, obsession-thing with him simply wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tried to make it. So many reasons why he had to go, not least of which the fact that he didn’t feel the same way about her.
    How would you know?
    The heat deepened. Okay, so she hadn’t exactly tested her theory. She was still a virgin at twenty-six, though that hadn’t exactly been her choice. Mil Springs was small and all the eligible guys simply viewed her as