Authors: Natalie Frost
“Mom,” Hanes scolded, his voice coming out a bit too whiny for his liking. His face reddened, humiliation and discomfort clutching him like it used to when he was younger. “You need to stop introducing yourself like that. It’s morbid.”
She scoffed and shrugged. “People usually ask. I’m just beating them to the punch. Speaking of which,” She turned to him fully, “do you have a little heir of your own, or is Gina blowing smoke up my ass?”
“Mom!” Gina cried out from the hallway while Hanes slapped a hand over his face.
He turned to Frankie to apologize when she stuttered out “You’re Big Jim’s son?”
“One of them,” his mother answered for him. She squinted at Frankie. “You didn’t know?”
“No,” Frankie breathed, head tilting back like she was just noticing the mansion for the first time. “Oh…”
“I don’t live here,” Hanes said. He stepped out of his mother’s grip and gently reached out for Frankie’s arm. He smiled, nervous but happy. “I live in the trailer and all that. I just help out around here sometimes.”
“Oh,” Frankie said, still looking stunned.
Hanes desperately wanted to apologize again.
“Well,” his mother said, sounding annoyed. “Is she pregnant or what?”
Hanes managed to hold back an aggravated series of swear words, though the action resulted in a pounding ache beneath his skull.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Frankie didn’t know how to break it to Hanes when he announced that he would take her to their doctor that instant. She had already had an ultrasound in New York, and it was something she had to schedule weeks in advance. But Hanes was so excited, and he clearly wanted to get away from his mother—and Frankie just wasn’t that strong of a person to be brutally honest twice in one day.
So she let him take her by the hand and guide her into one of the family’s many expensive cars. She had waved goodbye to Hanes’s mother and the girl—his sister? They did not wave back, though they did intensely observe the way her hand moved back and forth.
God, she hoped they weren’t racists.
“Look,” Hanes said, his fingers drumming over the wheel as he drove, “I’ll admit, I haven’t always been the most responsible person in the world, but I’m going to do right by this kid. Don’t you worry.”
“I’m not,” she said. “But you really don’t have to do—”
“I want to. I really do. You are not pressuring me. This is good, so I’m going to be good. That’s all I meant.”
“Oh. Good.”
Silence followed, save for the sounds of the car and Hanes’s fingers tapping the steering wheel.
Frankie swallowed and stared out the window.
“You’re…supposed to call ahead for these things, aren’t you?” Hanes asked.
Surprised amusement bubbled within her, and she could stop the little laugh that escaped. “Yeah, yeah, usually.”
“…Damn.”
She laughed harder, turning to him. His sheepish smile—green eyes focused on the road but not fully—it all made affection warm her chest. He was so considerate, like he had been before. A kind, good man.
Frankie patted his shoulder. “You’re still new to this. It’s alright.”
“You could have said something.”
“I was confident that you would figure it out.”
He snorted, a chortle bursting out of him. “Is that right? Well, maybe you have a little too much confidence in me.”
“Not at all. You did figure it out.”
“True.” His lips curled upward, an odd smacking sound emanating from the inside of his cheek. He tapped the steering wheel faster. “So…is there any place you would like to go? I mean, we could go to the hospital and schedule that appointment. Or someplace…nicer.”
Dating? Was that what he was implying? Frankie’s cheeks burned, uncertainty making her finicky. Unable to read him, she said, “You can drop me off at my hotel. And I can schedule an ultrasound there and call you afterward.”
“Hotel?” His face twisted with disgust. “No. No baby mama of mine is sleeping in a hotel when the baby daddy has a perfectly good trail—” He cringed. “No, that’s not good enough either.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
He blew out a taut breath. “My trailer. I was suggesting you should stay there, but it is too cramp and dirty and—” He shook his head. “You can stay at my parents’ estate. Mom even still has a few maids and cooks who can take care of you right.”
Frankie smiled, touched. “Thank you, but that really isn’t necessary. I’ve never…I’d be weird around the help, trust me.”
“You can be as weird as you want. You’re with child.”
“Good to know.”
He smirked, glancing at her. Those green eyes—lighting up, aimed at her—
Frankie’s breath caught in her throat.
“I’m serious,” he continued, though his tone expression bemusement. “Don’t hesitate to ask for whatever you want or need.”
“You’re so sweet. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He returned his gaze to the road. “I’ll drive back to my parents’ place.”
“Hotel,” she said, tone too gentle to be insistent.
“Alright, alright, hotel. You’ll give me your number though, right?”
“Yeah, of course I will.”
“Good.”
Frankie nodded, mesmerized by him. After a few seconds, she forced herself to look away and think about something else. Cockroaches, asphalt, rotten apples—
She thought she could very well fall in love with Hanes Copper. Which would be perfect, but only if he fell for her, too. And that might not happen. After what happened with Jack…
Frankie closed her eyes, her fingers brushing over her lower belly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A week came and went, and Frankie remained here in town—in a hotel, but still. If she ever planned on going back to New York, she never told Hanes about it. But the more he spoke with her—the more time he spent with her—the more he got the impression that she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Maybe she had initially planned so, but now…
“You greedy bastard!” Thomas shouted, barging into their parents’ manor like he owned the place.
How Thomas had known Hanes was sitting in the front room was beyond him. The curtains to the front windows were drawn, and Hanes had only arrived a few minutes ago to retrieve the pregnancy books his mother had gotten him and Frankie. Luckily, the old woman was searching for the other things she had bought for her future grandchild, otherwise, Thomas’s abrupt and loud entrance might have given her a heart attack. Still, it wasn’t as if there wasn’t a woman present.
Hanes set aside the pregnancy book he had been glancing through and pointedly glanced at Gina, who held her own book while glaring at Thomas.
“Good morning to you, too,” Hanes said. “Did mom know you were coming? You really should call before you—”
“What’d you do?!” Thomas spat, striding up to Hanes and hovering over him. “Knock up the first woman you saw, or did you have to sleep with a bunch of them and hope for the best?”
Rage grew at a slow pace beneath Hanes’s clavicle—the contradictory nature of the sensation tickled his blood and made his head burn. He glared up at his brother and tried—
tried
—not to punch his gut. Hanes clenched his fists despite himself.
“Don’t be an ass, Tommy,” Gina said. “She was pregnant before Hanes knew about the will.”
Hanes refrained himself from rolling his eyes. Nosy Gina, always so helpful.
Thomas scoffed and strode away. “Typical! Just typical! The spoiled brat of the family gets everything. Didn’t take dad to be so vindictive.”
Hanes stood up. “Do not talk about him like that.”
“He was my dad, too, you know. I can talk about him however I want. Just because you were the favorite, doesn’t mean the rest of us meant nothing to him.”
Hanes pinched the bridge of his nose. Rage continued to pulsate throughout him—searing, ripping—he could barely breathe. He wanted to fight, to defend, to do something other than stand there and deal with the same old crap.
Thomas huffed. “You never even cared about the business. You think you’ll be able to keep it afloat?”
“I don’t want it! You take it.”
Thomas’s expression brightened. “Really? You mean it?” His lips spread wide before Hanes could fully confirm himself. “Fantastic! Let’s get that in writing, just to be safe.”
Hanes groaned as Thomas hurried all about in search of a pen and paper.
“I’m going to go see Frankie,” Hanes whispered to Gina, even as they both continued to glare at a frenzied Thomas. “Can you handle him?”
“Mom will. She’s been dealing with all of them since they found out you’re a daddy.”
“God bless her,” Hanes said. Shaking his head once at his brother, he quickly left the manor and made his way to Frankie’s hotel room.
“I make a lot of money from it,” Frankie said when he asked her about accounting. She sat in her hotel room, a cup of decaffeinated tea in her delicate hands. She raised it to her lips and slurped quietly. “I was eager to leave home as soon as possible, so…”
Hanes sat in the chair across from her. The table in between them was so small that resting his arm on it took up half of the surface’s space. A part of him itched to reach out to her—to touch her arm. She just looked…sophisticated, beautiful. And she was so sweet, her laughter often eliciting his own.
“What about you?” she asked, lowering her tea. Her arm was inches away from his hand now. “Why did you get into bull-riding.”
Wistful, Hanes smiled. “I did it ever since I was a kid. I like the rush, the challenge…it’s an all-encompassing escape.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Very,” he said, his smile widening.
Frankie smiled back at him. “Well, I guess experience helps keep you safe. And you love it, so it’s worth the risks.” She canted her head to the side, her gaze going distant. “I can’t really understand that. I’ve been so timid all my life…” She shrugged before taking another sip of tea.
Fond amusement bloomed inside of him. “You worried about me, darling? Because I assure you, I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean to sound like—I mean, you’re very capable of—” She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. “There I go again. You know what I mean, don’t you?”
“I do,” he said with his voice much more tender than he had meant it to be. But he felt like he understood Frankie on so many levels now, and that fact made his heart beat funny—out of tune yet just right; it was blissful and messy, and he hoped his heart would always beat this way. “And I’m flattered. Truly. In fact, I can’t help but worry about you, too. Sometimes.”
Frankie blushed. “Oh, I’m alright. Especially with all of those doctor appointments you and your family have been paying for.”
“Well, of course.”
“I have good insurance, you know.”
“So do we.”
She took another sip of her tea, her eyes shining with amusement and…delight? Happiness? Hanes sure hope so.
“You sure you don’t want anything to drink?” she asked, lowering her tea again. “I know you don’t like tea, but there’s coffee here. Or water.”
That sparked an idea in Hanes. “Why don’t we go out tonight? Get some dinner? I bet in all the time you’ve been here, you haven’t had a real barbecued meal.”
Frankie eyelid’s lowered, nearly closing completely. She tilted her head to the side and released a groan-filled breath. “No, but…” She shook her head and shrugged. “You know, why not? I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
The she had groaned—the way she spoke—Hanes heated up a bit from her voice. Quickly, he did his best to shake it off. “It will be. I promise.” He stood and offered her his hand.
Frankie glanced between his hand and his face for a few awkward seconds. Then she put her tea on the table before grabbing his fingers.
He beamed back at her when she did.
He drove her to his favorite bar in town: Pinkerton May’s Bar and Grill. It was packed with people, lit in just right way as to convey an orange glow to the place, and the music was loud enough to encase his entire being but not give him a headache.