hadnât knowingly seen anything underhanded going on besides a murder here and there, but I was no Pollyanna and the fact it existed didnât scare me.
âAnd,â Frank continued, âyour name keeps cropping up in the tips.â
âWhat!?â I sloshed coffee on my robe as I spun to face him.
He was wearing his cop face, which softened for a moment as his gaze drifted to where the coffee and cream had landed in my décolletage. âWould you like me to clean that up?â
Raising my eyebrows, I shook my head and reached for a napkin on the bar. âConsidering youâre going to use something other than a towel to do it and we are sharing a suite with others, you might be starting something you canât finish right now.â
âOh, I promise I can finish it.â He flashed a grin. âRemember, we have a suite to ourselves just floors away. We can be there in minutes.â
âFrankâ¦â I sobered. âI canât. I have to stay with Shana right now. Sheâs an emotional basket case.â
Frank frowned. âBenâs here with her.â
I blew out a breath. âAnd you think my brother is going to help her emotionally ?â
His frown deepened. âDammit, Bee, canât you put us first for once?â
I cocked my head at him and let his question hang in the silence. All the times heâd had to cancel weekends together because of his mystery missions that I couldnât know about or he chose not to elaborate on popped up like silent sentries. Over the last year and a half, we might have evolved into an âusâ but definitely not one with a capital U . âCome on, Frank. You canât be serious. Itâs not âus firstâ once in a while. The âusâ needs to be first always. Your life is so severely compartmentalized that you wake up each day and prioritize your compartments and sometimes the âusâ is first and sometimes itâs last. Sometimes itâs not even on the list.â
He spun on his heel and turned away from me to stand at the window, looking down at The Strip. âThatâs not true.â
âAnd,â I continued, âitâs okay if the âusâ is last if you let me into the other compartments every now and then. Because then what you have to do is what we have to do.â
âYou know I canât do that,â Frank told the window.
âYes, Iâm clear on the fact that you canât. I just donât know why.â
I could see Frank wrestling with himself. Nothing about him was easy, except maybe the sexuality he exuded. Whether it was the secrets he kept, the life he led or the hurt heâd endured, he found it difficult to trust. The muscles along his jaw rippled. The knuckles whitened on his coffee cup. He sighed, still looking down at Las Vegas Boulevard. âYou know I love you.â
âI do.â And I did. But it might not be enough.
Finally Frank turned away from the window. âRight now, I just want to find a way to keep you safe.â
He was prioritizing those life compartments again, but I let it go. A part of me realized I might never know Frank, not completely. Iâd pushed as hard as I could right now.
âI might remind you that I asked you to quit playing Hold âEm. As much as you love your independence, taking my advice might be for the best, at least for right now. Forgo the Main Event and just hang out in Vegas until the Clark County boys clear you to return to Houston. Have a real vacation for once.â
âI have to play,â I murmured, closing my eyes.
âYeah.â Frank kissed the top of my head. âWith me.â
âNo, Frank, I really have to go through with the tournament,â I said softly, still avoiding opening my eyes to the intensity I knew was coming.
âHoney Bee, youâre not losing anything ifââ
âExcept maybe Affie.â
âWhat?â He
Hundreds of Years to Reform a Rake