I shook my head. “He needs the work. It seems more inappropriate if you don’t give it to him, just because you had a moment of thinking his tattoos were hot.”
He fussed in his seat again. “I didn’t say anything about his tattoos.”
“Like I said, I know you, Frankie.” I smiled to myself, struck that he was still as conscientious about my feelings as he had been when we first got together. “How about this,” I added. “Why don’t we invite him over for dinner next week? He’s been in and out of our house, and you’ve been having a nice time together. Maybe a friendly meal would help you stop feeling guilty.”
“Maybe,” he said. “We’ll see. I haven’t even decided if I’m going to start a new project at the store yet.”
“Might as well,” I said. “Ava will be back in school next week, and you know her extracurriculars will keep her busy, too. You’ve been itching to get back to work, Frankie. And if a tattooed guy with a sexy, troubled vibe wants to help out, more power to you.”
Frankie sat up, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll think about it.” He rubbed his palm against my chest, sighing softly to himself. I could tell that his thoughts were already drifting.
“Come on,” I said, patting his leg. “I think you deserve a treat to help you stop worrying so much.”
“A treat?” he asked.
I grinned. “The kind of treat where you lay back and let me do all the work. And maybe some ice cream in bed after that.”
He perked up, then nuzzled against my neck. “Rory,” he sang out. “My hero with extra strawberry sauce.”
I laughed. “And some of that whipped cream, too.”
