Shiftr_Swipe Left for Love_Frankie Read online

  “I’m sorry if I was a little harsh yesterday,” he said .

  She shrugged. “I don’t blame you. I had no right to take your photos without your permission and make you a part of my crazy scheme.” She poured two cups of coffee and pushed the muffin plate toward him. He took one eagerly, and she took one as well .

  “I kind of understand where you’re coming from,” he said .

  “You do?” Her big eyes were rounder than ever .

  “You’re friends with someone called Kenzie, right ?”

  “Yes! We go to quilting class together. Do you know her ?”

  “No, but I know Lauren well.” He bit into the muffin. It was delicious, and he told her so .

  “Thanks.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Are you a—?” She trailed off .

  “Yup, I’m a bear. Didn’t you know ?”

  “No. But to be honest, I had a feeling about you .”

  He crooked an eyebrow. “What kind of feeling ?”

  Her cheeks went adorably pink. “I don’t know. It was a silly thing to say.” She propped her chin on her hand. “I felt like you were a good guy. And Kenzie and Lauren have been telling me how awesome shifters are. That’s why I signed up to the shifter dating app .”

  “But you didn’t date a shifter ?”

  She sighed. “No. I met Bert when his company and my company had a team-building day at the same venue. Things didn’t work out between us though. Obviously .”

  “He sounds like a douche .”

  “How come ?”

  “You seem like a cool person, so he must be to have broken up with you,” he said quickly, not wanting her to know what Lauren had told him .

  A smile lit her face. He was touched again by the sweet, unaffected way she reacted to compliments. But then she frowned and fiddled with the empty muffin case, folding it into ever smaller triangles. “I want to say he broke my heart. That’s not true, though. Because I knew deep down he wasn’t right for me. But he kind of bowled me over with the promises he was making to me, and everything happened so fast. I started telling everyone how great he was, about all these romantic plans he was making for us, and then he broke up with me, right when we were supposed to be having our first weekend away together. I felt like such a fool. And when I got back to work, everyone was asking how it went. I couldn’t tell them that he dumped me so I just kind of pretended I had a great time. And then it snowballed into this ridiculous situation.” When her eyes briefly met his, he saw they were shining with unshed tears, and it got him, like a fist in the gut .

  “And now I’ve got an engagement party to go to, and everyone’s so excited to meet him. I’m going to have to make up some stupid excuse about why he can’t make it .”

  “I’ll go with you,” Frankie said. Then he froze, and so did she. He didn’t know who was more shocked .

  “What?” she muttered, her red lips pursing .

  He cleared his throat, aware that his heart was beating faster than usual. “I said I’ll go with you to the engagement party. And you can put a photo of me on your desk at work if you want .”

  “You don’t mean that .”

  He gave a strained laugh. “Of course, I do. I never say anything I don’t mean .”

  Her cheeks got very pink. She lifted her coffee mug in both hands and raised it to her lips, hiding her face in it .

  “Selma?”

  She put the mug down again. “But why? Yesterday you were so opposed to the idea ?”

  He leaned back in his chair, searching for the words he needed. “Let’s just say I’ve loosened up a little in the past twenty-four hours. You seem like someone who’s been through a rough time, and I want to help you out .”

  Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked rapidly, then she nodded. “Okay. I mean, yes please, I accept your offer. What’s your rate ?”

  He waved his hand. “You don’t need to pay me .”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I sure appreciate you doing this for me, Frankie. But I don’t expect a favor. If you’re going to be my stand-in boyfriend, then I’m going to pay you for your time .”

  He shrugged. “If you insist. You can pay me the same rate you’re paying me for the gazebo. And a dollar per photo .”

  Her face lit up in a dazzling grin. “Okay. Deal.” When she held her right hand out, he shook it, struck by how small and soft it was. She picked up her phone and tilted her head to one side. “I’ve gotta run to work in a second, but would you mind if I snap a photo now? The girls keep giving me such a hard time for not showing them a photo of my boyfriend. They’ve even bought me a frame and left it on my desk …”

  He swallowed hard. “Sure .”

  “Great!” She held up the phone, looking at the camera’s viewfinder and turning around slowly. “Okay, the light’s best here.” She stood in front of the frosted glass panel in the garden door .

  He got to his feet, heavy with reluctance, and stood beside her. Her small arm went around his waist, and gingerly, he laid his arm across her shoulder. His bear purred .

  She started. “What was that ?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just my bear grumbling about something or other .”

  “It doesn’t like you touching me ?”

  He opened his mouth and closed it again. It liked him touching her a lot. But that was the last thing he was about to tell her. “Let’s take this photo,” he said gruffly instead .

  She moved the camera around, but didn’t seem to be satisfied with any of the angles. He picked up the smell of the hairspray she was using, and beneath that, the clean, sensual scent of her hair. He found himself longing to tug it loose, make it fall wild and free around her face. And his cock twitched again. Goddammit. Her proximity was driving his bear crazy. He snatched the phone from her hand. “Give it here.” He held it up high, higher than her small arms could reach, and angled the viewfinder toward their faces. “Is that okay ?”

  “Perfect.”

  As he fumbled for the photo button, she pursed her lips. Click . The photo was taken. She tried to snatch the phone, but he held it just out of reach .

  “Let me see !”

  He tapped on the thumbnail photo, making it fill the screen, and she burst out laughing. She was pouting provocatively, while Frankie’s expression was a hilarious combination of confused and annoyed. She tried to grab at the phone again, but he kept it up high, and she jumped for it several times like an excitable Chihuahua. But with every jump, her breasts bounced against his chest distractingly .

  Sighing, he tapped the trash button. “Selma, I’m not doing this if you don’t take it seriously. No porn star expressions. We’re just going to smile, real natural. Got it ?”

  She folded her arms. “Spoilsport .”

  “Last time I’m trying.” He angled the viewfinder again. She parted her lips in a very pretty smile, displaying her smallish, straight teeth, and he took the photo. “There. That’s better,” he said. He looked kind of serious, but it could’ve been worse. “I give you permission to put this on your desk .”

  “Thanks, Frankie!” She went up on tiptoes, grabbed his shoulders, and before he knew it, she’d planted a kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best. Okay, I’d better run. I’m pulling a twelve-hour shift today, so I won’t be done until ten p.m .

  He frowned. “Where d’you even work ?”

  “At PPQ Energy on their complaints team .”

  He repressed a shudder. “Dang. That must be tough .”

  Her forehead furrowed. “Why ?”

  “Dealing with folks moaning and complaining all day long. It’d flip me out .”

  She giggled. “I like it, most of the time. Sometimes I might take a call from a bad-tempered old git complaining about how his power’s been down for the last day, but I’ll look into the problem, come up with a solution, offer him some compensation, and by the end of the call, he’s singing my praises. Guess I like helping people. And customers never see me, so I get to wear stuff like this.” She glanced at her watch
. “Shoot, I really am late now. Gotta run. You know where everything is. So long, honey.” She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and spun back to face him, then winked. “Just kidding! Have a good day.” And she was gone .

  Frankie groaned as he watched her retreating figure. “Figures she works for an energy company,” he muttered to himself. The woman was like a whirlwind. And what the hell had he gotten himself into ?

  He shook his head at his impetuous decision, but for some reason, he couldn’t quit smiling as he went to his bag and pulled out the plans for the gazebo. There was something about Selma that reminded him of himself when he was young, before he was old enough to understand how messed up his parent’s relationship was. She made him feel alive, and like things didn’t always have to be so serious. And he was glad to be helping her out .

  He sat down again at the table, drained his coffee in one gulp, poured another, and began to put together an estimate for the wood he needed to pick up from the lumberyard .

  3

  S elma’s robin egg-blue Fiat 500 zipped through Hope Valley’s morning traffic as she sang along to a compilation of her favorite boy-band tracks. What she lacked in talent, she made up for in enthusiasm .

  She was usually cheerful on her way to work. What she’d told Frankie was true—she did love helping people, and she enjoyed the flexible hours. As long as you clocked in thirty-eight hours each week, you could more or less choose your hours, which meant that sometimes she’d work four days, then take a three-day weekend. It paid really well too, since the company had a hard time staffing the department .

  Today, her cheerfulness was on a whole new level. He said yes! she told herself over and over, barely able to believe that Frankie had agreed to help her, especially since he’d been so mad at her the day before .

  She arrived at the business park where the energy company’s corporate office was located with seven minutes to spare. Sitting in the parking lot, she could hardly contain her excitement as she emailed the photo of herself and Frankie directly to the color printer on her floor .

  She got out of her car and raced inside to the print room. She pressed her company ID card against the receiver on the printer, accessed her print job, and exactly five seconds later, the four-by-six image emerged on a sheet of paper with a whoosh and a tang of hot ink. She slid it into the guillotine and trimmed away the white edges, then examined her handiwork. It wasn’t ideal—it had obviously been printed on copier paper instead of glossy photo paper, but it’d do for now. The important thing was that it gave her the proof she needed to shut up all the gossips .

  She scampered over to her seat that was located more or less in the center of 12 long banks of desks in the open-plan room. Some of her colleagues complained about the lack of privacy, about how there weren’t even any dividers between the desks. But she enjoyed being surrounded by people all day long—that was, until she’d told that stupid lie about her relationship, and all she’d wanted since then was to hide from the world. Well, now she could hold her head up high. She sat down and slipped the photo into the fluffy pink frame that her friends had given her. As an afterthought, she planted a kiss just below Frankie’s face, leaving a red lipstick imprint. Perfect .

  She turned on her computer, a mere moment before the oversize digital timer that sat at the bottom of her screen that recorded the length of every call clicked onto the hour. She picked up her headset and put it on, adjusting it carefully over her hairstyle, and shortly after, the first bleep of the day sounded in her ears, signaling an incoming call. She pressed the “answer call” button .

  “PPQ Energy, customer satisfaction team. This is Selma. How can I help you?” she said with more enthusiasm than she’d felt in a long time .

  All of her calls that morning were easily resolved, and she was so cheerful she lost track of time until her best work friend, Luciana, swung by her desk, waving to her. Luciana was as short as she was and a little curvier with broad hips and a full cleavage that she often flaunted in low-cut tops. Her dark brown hair was cut short and she had olive-toned skin and chocolate-brown eyes that were always sparkling with mischief .

  Somehow, three hours had elapsed, and it was time for Selma’s first break of the day. She pressed the “comfort break” button on her phone console, and as she was getting to her feet, Luciana let out a scream .

  Selma startled, and several heads turned in their direction, but when she saw that Luciana was lunging for the photo frame, she burst into giggles .

  “Oh, my freaking God,” Luciana whispered, staring at the photo. “You said he was sexy, hun, but he is off the scale!” Her tone was reverent, as if she was regarding the face of a deity. “And he’s so into you. You can really tell .”

  Selma’s stomach gave a little lurch, but she chose to ignore it. “I know, right? He’s so romantic.” She took the photo from Luciana’s hands and laid it on the desk again. “Let’s go outside .”

  “Nuh-uh. We’re not leaving this baby behind .”

  Before Selma knew it, the damned photo frame was in Luciana’s hands again. “You know how long me and the girls have been waiting to lay eyes on this hunk of yours? I’m not gonna deprive them any longer !”

  There was no point trying to argue with Luciana when she was on a mission. Sighing, Selma followed her friend’s swinging hips to the tiny kitchen where they collected their mugs and made cups of tea, then they went out through the rear doors of the building to the smokers’ corner. Neither of them smoked, but most of their friends did, so they always joined them, huddling in a spot under an overhanging roof, twenty feet or so from the dumpsters, gossiping and catching up on each other’s lives .

  As they approached the smoker’s corner, Luciana passed her mug to Selma to keep her hands free for the necessary announcement, and Selma was dismayed to note that several of their friends were already gathered there .

  “Ta-da-da-da-dah!” Luciana sang, holding the fluffy pink frame up like it was a religious offering. “Look-ee here!” Everyone turned in their direction, and the area was immediately full of shrieks and whistles .

  “Mmm, so, the mysterious Bert does exist,” Joan Simmons drawled. “I was starting to think he was a fragment of your imagination, Silly.” She winked, sidling up to Selma, then elbowed her in the ribs. Selma managed a thin smile while cringing inwardly. Frankie was going to be delighted when she told him he had a brand-new name .

  “He is dreamy,” Lorene commented, taking the frame and peering at the photo .

  Everyone took their turn, leering at Frankie as lecherously as any guy on a building site gawking at a passing girl. Selma was hit by alternate waves of pride and shame that left her cheeks glowing. She wished so bad he really was her boyfriend and she could show him off for real. But he was way out of her league. He was a hundred times better looking than the genuine Bert Smithers .

  She was mightily relieved when Lorene’s watch beeped, signaling it was time to return to their desks. They trooped back inside, making a detour to the kitchen to drop off their mugs on the way .

  “Ooh, I can’t wait to meet him at the party tomorrow, see if he’s as good looking as his photo!” Renata, the most excitable gossip of all the girls, squeaked with a little wiggle in her skinny hips as they passed through the banks of desks on their way back to their seats .

  Shit . In all the excitement, Selma had completely forgotten the engagement party was the following day. Well, no big deal. Frankie had already offered to attend. She’d call him during her late lunch break and tell him. Or, better yet, swing by her house and tell him in person, which would have the additional benefit of avoiding any further scrutiny by her friends .

  * * *

  T hree hours later, Selma unlocked the wrought-iron gate at the side of her house and slipped down the narrow passageway. Her stomach was jumping with nerves, as yet another uncomfortable thought had occurred to her during the drive from her office. She was debating whether to come clean about it now, or let it work itself o
ut later. As a peace offering, she was carrying a large cola with lots of ice, and a bag of donuts .

  Frankie was hammering nails into some wooden planks and didn’t seem to have noticed her entrance. Damn. He looked unbelievably sexy, laboring with his shirt off in the afternoon sun, his bronzed body slick with perspiration n. She paused to watch him for a moment. Why not? It wasn’t hurting him. But her tongue was practically hanging out as her eyes feasted on those bulky muscles rippling and flexing with every movement. He seemed to be building the floor for the gazebo—a square platform constructed from planks of reddish-brown wood .

  As she came closer, she saw he had earphones in, explaining his uncharacteristic obliviousness. But as she stepped onto the patio, he whirled around, and several reactions passed across his face as he saw it was her. She sucked a breath in. She could’ve sworn that one of them was excitement .

  “You’re back early,” he said .

  She held out the gifts. “I thought you could use a cold drink and a little pick-me-up .”

  “I sure could.” He flashed a grin, displaying his nice white teeth. He wiped his forearm across his forehead, put his hammer down, and grabbed his T-shirt from the fence before pulling it over his head. “Thanks.” He took the cola from her, removed the lid, and had a long swig .

  She watched his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while she gripped the top of the donut bag with both hands. He had no business looking that sexy, or making her feel so excitable and fluttery. “How’s it going?” she asked .

  “Pretty good. I’m mostly done with the platform. Then I’ll add the eight uprights, lay the horizontal beams on top, then begin working on the rafters. I’ll probably work on the carving of the ornamental features at home .”

  She nodded thoughtfully. In all honesty, asking him to build the gazebo had mostly been a ruse to get him to stay at her place longer, but she was happy she’d had the brainwave since it was going to look really nice when it was complete. “You’re doing a fantastic job,” she said .