Hey Lovelies! Here’s a sneak peek of Reba and Frank’s story. You’ll remember Reba Harris from the Sweetest Love as the single mom of Roxanna ‘Roxy’ Harris. Frank Bass, the private detective goes way back to A Special Summer, my debut novel when I was writing as Victoria Wells! He’s been a background character in a few of stories. The most recent being Mended Hearts.
DISCLAIMER: This is a rough draft and hasn’t been edited. Now with that out of the way, here’s your sneak peek!
Picking up the sandwich and taking a bite, Donna went on to say, “Besides, it’s not like you don’t know Adam or his family. Give them a chance. Your daughter deserves to have a man in her life, just like you do.”
Reba choked on her drink. Good Lord! This woman was too much. She hadn’t thought about a man in years. She was about to let her friend know she didn’t want or need a man, but soon discovered something had captured her attention.
Reba looked over her left shoulder to what had snagged Donna’s interest. That’s when her gaze connected with a very intense, dark set of piercing eyes. Her heart began to rapidly beat in her chest. He was one good looking man.
Her head spun, because she had turned around so sharply to escape his bold stare. Unconsciously, she ran he fingers through her hair. She mouthed, “Who is that?”
Donna softly chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough. He’s on his way over.”
Before she could ask another question, the good looking stranger was at their table. Donna stood and gave him what Reba surmised as a brotherly hug. As the two broke away from the embrace, Donna teased, “Hey there, stranger. I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“That’s because you’re staying out of trouble,” he taunted back.
Reba nearly swooned in her seat. His voice was incredibly deep and ultra-sexy. She hoped the sheer drops of perspiration wasn’t showing above her arched brows. Donna’s voice seemed to come out slow and muffled. “Frank, I’d like you to meet my friend Reba Harris. Reba, this is Frank Bass.”
All she could muster was a weak smile, praying she didn’t have spinach between her teeth as she extended her delicate hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Frank’s large hand engulfed hers. The warmth of his calloused hand felt good against her skin. Too good.
“Likewise, Mrs. Harris.”
Reba’s eyes lingered on their joined hands. The handshake was lasting a little too long. But for the life of her, she couldn’t pull away. Lifting her head, a spark shot through her as their eyes connected. It scared her and she slowly withdrew her hand. “Please call me Reba and I’m not a Mrs.”
Stunned, Reba’s gaze swung to Donna. Did she just declare that she wasn’t a Mrs.! Donna didn’t make her uncomfortable situation any better with the devilish wink she sent her way.
“Reba it is,” Frank murmured, holding the beautiful woman’s gaze captive.
She finally took in the gulp of air she needed to fill her lungs when he turned to Donna and said, “I’ll see you around and please give Patrick my best.” Nodding his head at Reba he added, “You take care of yourself.”
Perplexed, she whispered, “I will.” What she wished she been bold enough to say was, ‘Why don’t you take care of me.’ She shook that nonsense off. The last time she thought a man would take care of her, she ended up in hell.
Both women watched as he sauntered off to order his food.
“That was…I don’t know what it was.” Reba mumbled, spearing a cucumber and putting it in her mouth. She chewed slowly wondering what he meant by ‘take care of yourself.”
Head tilted, eyes on his broad back, Donna agreed. “Yeah, I don’t know either. But Frank after all is a private detective.”
“He’s very good at reading people. He probably could sense that something was troubling you.”
A doubtful brow was lifted. “He’s that good?”
Donna nodded, dismissing Reba’s skepticism. “Yes, ma’am.”
Still not convinced, Reba pressed, “How do you know?”
“Patrick and I hired him to track down Harold when he disappeared, refusing to sign the divorce papers. I’ll never forget it. That man took one look at me and said, ‘He’ll never hurt you again.’ We hadn’t shared any of the details of my life with Harold. But somehow, Frank knew my marriage hadn’t been a loving one.”
Reba didn’t want to speculate on the idea that a man she’d known less than ten seconds had revealed her deepest wounds and scars. Not yet anyway. “So, he knows Harold?” Oh, Lord.
“Something like that,” Donna laughed. “Chile, I don’t know what he said or did to Harold, but once Frank found him, he was more agreeable to signing my freedom papers.” Her smiling face turned sour. “Of course, the greedy dog had his price before signing on the dotted line.”
Reba couldn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Please, let’s change the subject. I’m about sick of Harold.” What she wanted to do, was change the subject to the intriguing private detective.