But then she pulls away again. “Why are you kissing me?”
“Want to.” I lean in, but she stops me.
“But I did something bad.”
My forehead rests on hers. “Nah, you followed your gut and defended Ronnie.”
Her eyelids are still hooded with seduction. “Would you have done the same?”
“Maybe in a slightly less volatile manner.”
A throat clears loudly and Frankie peers over my shoulder. “The guards are watching.”
“Good. Let ‘em see what they’ll never have.” But the frantic urge to maul her has been satisfied. For now. “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes, please.”
“Hmmm, so polite. Getting locked up at a kid’s play place has humbled you.”
She shudders. “I’m never coming back.”
“Glad you feel that way,” I chuckle. “You’re banned from the premises, menace.”
“You should’ve seen her, Daddy.” Ronnie punches at the air with short jabs. “Frannie came to my rescue. She’s a real superhero.”
Frankie cringes. “Depends who you ask, kiddo. Jimmy’s mom wants to see me behind bars.”
My little girl scrunches her face. “Like in jail?”
“Exactly,” the redhead mutters.
Ronnie gasps. “You can’t go to jail!”
“She won’t,” I rush to say. “So long as she doesn’t go near Jimmy or his mother.”
“If I ever see that kid’s pasty mug again, it’ll be too soon.” Frankie lifts her glass of iced tea.
I raise mine to clink against hers. “Cheers to that.”
After fleeing the scene of the crime, we found our way to The Paddock. It’s no Inn Kahoots, but the casual vibe and half price appetizers reignited Frankie’s spark. She’s sprawled in her chair like a regular local. I wonder if she knows about the mechanical bull. Only time will tell.
Ronnie sighs to a tune that concerns me. “You two love each other.”
Frankie chokes on her drink. “No, no. Definitely not.”
“Yes-huh! Brenna’s mom saw Daddy kiss you at Slick City.” She makes sloppy sound effects in case the message isn’t received. “That means you’re gonna get married.”
My chest gets tight as a suffocating pressure sinks in. At the same time, a stroke of satisfaction boosts my ego. It’s an odd combination.
Rather than read into it, I glance at Frankie. There’s a wildfire spreading across her face. She flaps her mouth open and closed uselessly. All that reclaimed bravado falters from a few simple statements.
“It didn’t mean anything,” she finally stammers.
I ignore the strike to my pride. “Mhmm, just showing my gratitude after she defended you.”
My daughter narrows her eyes. “You never kiss people.”
“Not that you know about,” I mutter.