Page 98 of Washed Up

‘When? Or why?’

‘When?’

‘I don’t know. A couple of days ago, I guess. Why?’

Dylan shook his head. ‘No. Nothing.’ He smiled but it seemed a little forced. ‘Just wondered which girl it was this week.’

‘So you haven’t dated Lindsey Luft?’

‘Nooooooo. Are you kidding? She’s great, don’t get me wrong. But not my type.’

Frankie’s eyebrows nearly went through the roof. ‘Ah yes. Because talented and successful and gorgeous isn’t your type?’

Dylan caught her gaze with his own, and he lifted one hand to touch her curls. ‘I prefer brunettes,’ he said.

They looked at each other for a long moment, the shadows from the fire dancing across their faces. Dylan’s navy-blue eyes were almost black in the firelight. His gaze dropped to her lips again, and Frankie was just wondering how the hell she was going to resist this man any longer. She’d tried her best, after all, surely that was enough, surely even Jake would understand… Then the lights came back on.

CHAPTER FORTY

Dylan and Frankie blinked at each other in the light, then burst out giggling. ‘Woah. I almost lost my mind there,’ he said when he could speak again.

‘Rude,’ was all she said in reply.

‘No, I didn’t mean… Oh, you’re joking.’

‘Of course I’m joking. Although you would have to lose your mind to kiss me,’ said Frankie, a little too loudly.

His eyebrows lifted. ‘Is that what you think I was going to do? Kiss you?’

Shit. Backtrack, backtrack. ‘No. Of course not. I just meant…’

‘Relax,’ he said. ‘Of course I wanted to kiss you. I still want to, and my mind is very much intact.’

Frankie shifted in her seat.

‘Am I interrupting something?’ came her brother’s voice from the doorway and Frankie contemplated throwing something at his head. Like a dagger, maybe.

‘Of course, you bloody are,’ said Dylan, his eyes dancing, never leaving Frankie’s face.

‘Good,’ said Bobby, throwing himself down on the sofa. ‘That was the plan.’

‘You’re such a git,’ said Frankie, though she was secretly relieved. Two seconds longer and she would have hurled her caution into the fire along with her last shred of sanity.

Bobby had already got his phone out of his pocket. ‘Wifi’s back on.’

‘Oh so now you know how to use wifi,’ said Frankie.

‘Ouch,’ said Bobby, without even looking up.

‘I mean it,’ said Frankie. ‘All the communications channels in the world and you can’t even bother to send Mum and Dad an occasional text.’

‘Must try harder,’ muttered Bobby under his breath.

‘Bobs, I’m serious. Promise me you’ll make more of an effort. For Mum’s sake. For mine. Please.’

Bobby looked up at her pleading face, then grunted, ‘Fine.’

‘Pinky promise,’ said Frankie, holding out her little finger, a reference to their childhood.