Frankie didn’t even blink. “At least I’m not spending my days counting money I haven’t earned for myself.”
The silence around the table now was deafening. My mother let out a small chuckle, a tiny smile playing on her lips before she addressed Frankie. “You must be the woman finally making my son look happy again.”
Frankie made a choking sound beside me. “I—what?”
“He’s been stomping around glaring at trees for months now.”
“Mom,” I warned. My mother saw entirely too much sometimes.
Frankie looked up at me with wide eyes.
I looked away first.
Because the worst part?
My mother wasn’t wrong.
Across the table, Leo drained his whiskey with obvious annoyance. “Amazing what a rebound relationship can do for a man.”
Frankie stiffened. Before I could speak, she tilted her head thoughtfully toward Leo. “You know,” she said conversationally, “for a groom, you spend a weird amount of time thinking about your cousin’s dating life.”
Somebody coughed violently trying not to laugh.
Fuck. The woman had walked into a room full of vipers and started juggling knives.
Tiffany stepped smoothly into the silence. “Frankie’s very… confident, isn’t she?”
“That’s one word for it,” Frankie replied brightly.
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I just think weddings can be overwhelming if you’re not used to this kind of environment.”
Frankie smiled slowly. “And what environment is that, Tiffany? A knockoff scene from Frozen? All frosty with no real emotion?”
My mother laughed.
Tiffany looked horrified.
And I smiled. Frankie wasn’t intimidated by these people.
She was having fun.
The rest of the dinner went smoothly with Tiffany and Leo ignoring us. Which was exactly what I wanted.
By the time we got back to the suite, the sun was long gone. We walked slowly down the hallway as if we were both afraid of entering the room. I knew why I was hesitating. My control had been tested by Frankie’s response to my family. I’d wanted to haul her into my arms and kiss her every time she made a snarky remark.
Once inside the suite, Frankie grabbed her bag and bolted for the bathroom. “I’m going to change.”
I stood by the window, staring out at the dark silhouette of the mountain, my skin feeling too tight for my body. When the door finally opened, I turned around and to choke back a laugh.
She wasn’t wearing silk like I’d actually hoped. She wasn’t wearing anything even remotely provocative. Frankie had emerged looking like she was preparing for an expedition to the North Pole. She had on a pair of thick, baggy gray sweatpants, an oversized hoodie that swallowed her curves, and, to complete the picture, a pair of thick wool socks. She was so bundled up I couldn’t see a single inch of skin below her chin.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, leaning against the wall, a genuine grin tugging at my mouth.
Frankie looked at me, her face defiant. “It gets cold in the mountains at night, Max. I don’t want to catch a chill.”
“It’s seventy-two degrees in this room, Frankie. You look like a damn marshmallow.”
I walked toward her, my pace slow and predatory. She didn’t move, but her eyes went wide as I came to a stop right in front of her. I reached out, my fingers catching the hem of her hoodie.
