Beef Cake: An Unrequited Romance (Fighting for Love Book 2) by Smartypants Romance & Jiffy Kate

Beef Cake: An Unrequited Romance (Fighting for Love Book 2) by Smartypants Romance & Jiffy Kate

Author:Smartypants Romance & Jiffy Kate [Romance, Smartypants & Kate, Jiffy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Smartypants Romance
Published: 2020-03-16T23:00:00+00:00


Chapter 17

Gunnar

I should be exhausted. I’ve completed two rounds of training, did my usual lifting routine, and sparred with a few guys from the gym. But instead of taking the rest of the evening off like I know I should, I’m still here punching the bags. It’s as though I can’t burn off enough energy, and if I sit still for too long, I get antsy.

It would be easy to say I’m sexually frustrated—and that’s certainly part of the problem—but it’s more than that. I still don’t know where I stand with Frankie or how she feels about me, and I’m no closer to figuring out her connection with the Iron Wraiths than I was a week ago. I worry about her safety until my stomach hurts, even though I know she’s been dealing with them for longer than I’ve been in Green Valley. And to make matters worse, I walked in on Tempest and Cage going at it in the bathroom this morning. Most body parts were covered, thank God, but I still saw and heard way more than I needed to.

Maybe I just need a beer or a night out on the town. I’d fly back to Dallas for a weekend, but that’d mean leaving Frankie and that’s absolutely out of the question. Maybe I can talk her into going to Dallas with me once the charity event is over. To be able to take her away and go anywhere—just the two of us, where we can just be us without any responsibilities for a day or two—sounds incredible.

I make a mental note to add that to my mile-long to-do list.

Feeling much calmer than I was a few minutes ago, I decide to stop for the day. I remove my gloves and towel off as best I can, only pausing to take a few large swigs from my water bottle. When I bend down to grab my bag from a nearby bench, movement from the other side of the large window catches my eye.

Frankie.

Frankie has never been here before, not to my knowledge, and she looks like she’s gonna bolt any second now. Without thinking or putting on my shirt, I run over to the door and push it open.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s going on?”

Her face is an open book at the moment, which is so uncharacteristic of her that it throws me for a second. She looks sad and tired, but also a bit skittish. As I step out onto the sidewalk, I’m fighting against every instinct within me. I want to reach out and wrap her in my arms, to provide protection from whatever is hurting her.

When her eyes find mine, they’re red-rimmed and glassy. I can tell she’s been crying and it kills me. “Hey,” I say, finally extending my hand toward her like you would a hurt animal—letting her know I’m here and I mean no harm. “Frankie . . . I’m right here. Tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

She looks away and then back to me, a desperation in her expression I’ve never seen before.



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