Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (30 page)

An ache similar to the one she felt last night when
Jack ordered her out of his hospital room. He didn’t want her around, didn’t
need her help. She thought they’d developed a kind of friendship but in reality
he still considered her the Franken Niece, the woman most likely to ruin his
life with binding contracts and common sense. The woman who didn’t understand
an ounce of what Jack went through to get up in the morning.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

“I’m striking out with all the men in my life,” she
said, eyeing the exit ramp.

Her perfect fiancé was dumping her because she’d
helped her uncle, her wrestling partner resented her very presence, and her
uncle had her making dangerous jumps from catwalks. She suddenly felt terribly
alone.

Turning onto Golf Road, she headed for the extended
stay hotel. She wanted to go home and pretend she’d never heard of WHAK, never
offered to help her uncle with his financial troubles.

That’s it. She’d pack up and get the hell out tomorrow
morning. If Uncle Joe needed any more advice she’d offer it from a thousand
miles away. That should be a safe distance.

Who was she kidding? The damage was done. She’d been
exposed as a tigress on national television, ruining her engagement, her
career…her life.

She aimed for her designated parking spot across the
parking lot from the front door. Even the parking lot seemed empty. No one.
Anywhere.

Tears welled in her eyes. How did it all come to this?
How did everything spin so out of control that she didn’t even recognize her
own life?

“I hate this!” She pounded at the steering wheel.

She hated being out of control, messing up and not
being a “good little girl” as her mother used to call her. She hated her uncle,
Bradley, and Jack. She hated—

A bang on her window made her jump and she banged her
elbow on the steering wheel.

“Argh!”

“Frankie, open the door,” Jack shouted through the window.

“What are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong? Are you crying?” He pressed his face to
the glass.

“Go away!” She hit the automatic locks three times for
emphasis.

“Open the door, Frank. I’m not leaving.”

“Then I’ll sleep in the car.” She flopped down on the
seat and buried her face in her hands.

“Frankie, open the door.”

Embarrassed at her melodramatic loss of control, she
willed him away. Why did he have to show up now, when she was at her weakest?

“Okay, fine. I’ll break the window,” he said. “I’d
hate to see your car rental bill when I get done.”

She sat up and stared him down. He balanced on one
crutch and wielded the other like a baseball bat.

She cracked open the window. “What are you doing?”

He edged up to the car, his lips nearly touching the
glass. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them, full, moist, tantalizing.

“I’m breaking into your car because you won’t open the
door,” he said seductively.

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Okay, fine.” She closed up the window, snatched her
key from the ignition, and flung open the door. “You win. Okay? I’m out.”

Marching toward the hotel, she cursed the day she’d
returned Uncle Joe’s phone message asking for a “little” help.

“Boss Frankie around day, that’s what this is,” she
muttered.

“Wait up,” he called after her.

“I didn’t invite you, remember?” She stopped and
turned to him. “Why are you here?”

“I have to talk to you.” His chest heaved in and out.
He was clearly out of breath from having to peel across the parking lot on
crutches. Guilt tickled her insides. The least she could do was listen.

No. She wouldn’t let him get to her again. He’d only
confuse things, confuse her. She wanted Bradley, the ring, her dream of a
perfect life, and thanks to Uncle Joe and Jack, she’d lost it all.

“Business hours are Monday through Friday, nine a.m.
to five p.m. If you need to talk to me, make an appointment.” She spun on her
heel and stormed through the hotel door burning a path to the elevator.

“First Bradley, now Jack,” she muttered. “He probably
wants out of his contract. Well, get in line. I could use out of the niece
contract right about now.”

She punched the elevator button, oblivious to
everything but her own frustration. “Men, all they do is push you around. Jump
from a catwalk. Share my bed. Save my company. You’re ordering the wrong drink.
Don’t hug me in public. Marry me. Don’t marry me.”

The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside,
digging in her purse for her key card. She glanced up to press the second-floor
button and froze at the sight of Jack, propping the elevator door open with his
crutch.

“Don’t marry me?” he said, staring at her intently.

“Go away.”

“He saw it, didn’t he? The teaser for the Summer
Suplex Slammer?”

“Yes, he saw it, the bar full of drunk men saw it;
everyone at work probably saw it. My life is over. Okay? Happy?”

“Honey, I’m sorry.”

Pity from Jack Hudson was one thing she definitely
could not handle. She didn’t want his pity. She wanted…

“Get out of my way.” She pushed past him and headed
for the stairs. She knew he couldn’t make the climb, and she needed the
physical exertion right now to work off her frustration.

“Frankie, wait.”

She ignored his pleading tone dripping with
compassion. No one could help her, not Jack, not Uncle Joe, not even Mama.
Frankie dove into this mess all by herself and she’d have to dig her way out.

Heck, she’d waitressed at the Lucky Duck Ice Cream
Parlor in college. They said she was a natural. Restaurants were always looking
for competent help. It wasn’t like she’d be unemployed for long. The thought of
using her master’s degree to wipe up ice cream spills made her stomach clench.

“Snap out of it,” she scolded.

So, Bradley was having second thoughts. He’d come
around. Perhaps her boss had left a voice mail about her inappropriate
behavior. There were plenty of jobs for smart women like Frankie.

She pushed open the door to the second floor and
marched toward her suite. Fortitude was Frankie’s middle name. She’d stand
tall, walk through the fire and come out the other side a little singed maybe,
but not completely burned to ash.

She wasn’t about to let a failed engagement and
possible pink slip destroy her. Frankie was a strong, independent and talented
woman.

Who at this very moment couldn’t figure out how to
make her plastic key card open her hotel room door. She shoved it in the door
five different ways. No dice.

“Damn this thing.”

“Here, let me,” a deep, male voice said.

She’d been so absorbed in her own misery she hadn’t
noticed Jack hobble up beside her.

“How did you get here?” She didn’t look at him. She
couldn’t. She hated feeling vulnerable, and hated him seeing her this way.

“I took the elevator. There.” The green light flashed
and he swung open the door.

She reached for her key card, and their hands touched.
Heat burned a path across her shoulders to the base of her spine. She was
tired, that’s all, emotionally exhausted from having her life turned upside
down.

Great. Not only had she lied to her future fiancé but
now she was lying to herself. The truth was…every time she and Jack touched,
accidentally or otherwise, a wave of desire spread through her body, and it
wasn’t caused by exhaustion, stress or nerves.

It was desire, pure and simple. A need so strong it
scared the daylights out of her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

“I was worried about you.” He hobbled to the sofa.

“You’re getting better with the crutches,” she said,
checking the phone message light. It wasn’t blinking. What was she hoping for,
a change-of-heart call from Bradley?

“What happened tonight?” he said.

“Nothing I can’t handle. What can’t wait until
tomorrow?” She flopped down in a chair a good five feet away from him.

“You were crying.”

“You should be used to that by now.” He’d seen her cry
at least twice. She’d never cried in front of Bradley.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No thanks.”

Silence fell heavily across the room.

“I came here tonight because I wanted to apologize,”
he said.

“For what?” She crossed her left leg over her right
and interlaced her fingers in her lap.

“For being a jerk. All I’ve done these past few days
is be rude to you. That’s not right. You’ve been so nice. You let me lean on
you, physically and in every other way that counts.”

“That’s me, the girl with the broad shoulders.”

“I’d like to return the favor.”

“No need. It’s all part of a day’s work.”

She hoped he’d leave.

She wanted him to stay.

Frankie jumped to her feet and paced to the dresser
where she’d left her purse. A peppermint would hit the spot. She pulled out the
little metal tin. Empty.

“Francine?”

The low and husky timbre of his voice danced across
her shoulders.

“What?’’

“I brought you something.”

She glanced at him.

“Here.” He pulled a paper bag out of his jacket pocket
and tossed it at her.

She glanced inside and her breath caught at the sight
of three tins of her favorite peppermint candy.

“I figured you might need them,” he said.

He’d remembered her favorite brand, understood the
importance of mints to quell her tummy troubles. She wondered if Bradley even
knew she popped the candies.

“Francine?”

That voice, smooth as silk with a slight rumble,
skittered across her nerve endings.

“Come over here and sit down,” he said.

“I can’t.” It was too dangerous.

“Please? The knee’s still kinda sore. I’d rather not
get up.”

Taking a deep breath, she ambled to the opposite end
of the sofa. She might be a liar, but she wasn’t completely inconsiderate.

“Do you accept my apology?” He searched her eyes.

She nodded, unable to speak.

“Good. I also came to warn you about the promo teaser,
but I guess I’m too late.”

She nodded again, fingering the hem of her blue silk
jacket.

“You okay?” He touched her shoulder.

“Sure.”

“Francine?” he pushed.

She swallowed hard.

“A friend once told me it’s okay to lean on someone,”
he said. “Even a strong, determined woman like you needs to lean on someone
once in a while.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m real strong.” A tear escaped the corner
of her eye. He reached out and wiped it away with his thumb.

“Hey, come over here.”

She shook her head. If she went into his arms she’d
bawl like a baby. Hadn’t she embarrassed herself enough in front of this man?

The couch shifted and she felt his arm slip around her
shoulders. With a hand at the back of her head, he coaxed her cheek to his
chest.

She came apart in his arms, sobbing, hiccupping,
scrunching the cotton of his T-shirt between her trembling fingers.

“I did…I did everything right. I’m a good girl.”

“You are, you’re a good girl.” He stroked her hair.

She buried her face against his warm neck. “I always
do the right thing...make the right choices.”

“Shhh. Everything will be okay.”

“It’s Uncle Joe’s fault. If only he hadn’t asked me to
help.” Teary eyed, she leaned back and looked into Jack’s eyes.

Jack’s chest tightened with compassion. He wished he
could wipe away the sadness dulling the rainbow of colors.

“What did I do wrong?” she said.

“Nothing, it’s not your fault. You love your uncle.
That’s all.”

“I hate love.”

His heart ached. “Don’t say that. Love’s not a bad
thing.”

“Well, it sure isn’t a good thing. Look at me. I’m a
wreck.”

He knew the feeling. After she’d left his apartment
earlier, the realization hit Jack like a brick of cement to the head: He’d
fallen in love with Frankie McGee.

This feeling was different than anything he’d
experienced before. It wasn’t just the explosive desire that threatened to eat
him alive every time he touched her. No, this was about desire and much more.

“Jack?” She stared into his eyes. “Am I that unlovable
that he couldn’t overlook this one little thing?”

She sniffed and buried her face against his chest. He
rubbed her back. “Shhh, it’s okay, honey.”

Damn that stupid fiancé of hers. Didn’t he know how to
hold on to a good thing?

She clutched his shirt like it was a life preserver.
With every squeak, every whimper, his heart ached until he thought it would rip
him apart inside.

“Frankie?” He gripped her shoulders and gently coaxed
her off of him. “Look at me.”

When she did, the trust that sparkled in her eyes
humbled him.
 

He cradled her chin with his forefinger and thumb.
“You are the most lovable person I know, and I’ve known a lot of people in my
lifetime. You’re smart and witty. You’re warm and compassionate. On top of
that, you crack a mean whip.”

The hitch in her throat sounded like the beginnings of
a chuckle. Good, he was on the right track.

“No more beating yourself up,” he said. “You tried to
help and Sully got you into a mess. You’re still a good girl, better than most
girls I know, anyway.”

“And you’re a nice guy.”

“So I’ve been told. But I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it.” She leaned forward to plant a kiss on
his cheek.

At least, that’s where he thought she planned to kiss
him. When her soft lips brushed against his, he broke apart inside, all
restraint, all common sense completely obliterated.

He wanted her. More than he’d wanted anything in his
life.

He closed his eyes and drank in the sensations, the warmth
spreading throughout his body, the pounding of his heart. She threaded her
fingers through his hair, and he let his head tip back in response to her
gentle touch. He could barely breathe, his thoughts spinning like a top. What
was happening? Should he stop it?