Page 36 of Better Watch Out
Frannie blinked a few times, looking startled by his random question. “I could eat something.”
Food was a safe subject. They stood and he led her to the area where several food kiosks were set up. He stopped in front of Dulcinea Churros. “This place is known for their Nutella-filled churros. Or”—he pointed to a popcorn stand across from them—“there’s a salty option. And The Lodge”—he pointed to a glass-top building—“has more sustainable choices.”
“How badly will you judge me if I confess my belief that cinnamon sugar dough and Nutella seem like sustainable life choices to me?”
Andrew’s lips slid into an easy smile. Frannie wasn’t like any of the female groupies he’d been surrounded with while in the NHL. While he and his teammates could devour the entire menu at restaurants post-game, the women sipped their calories out of a glass. “No judgment here.”
After paying for their Nutella-stuffed churros, Andrew walked Frannie through the holiday market, keeping an eye on her and their surroundings as she browsed the little shops. It was hard not to become distracted by her enthusiasm for all things Christmas in New York, but he still had a job to do.
He was definitely not off-duty.
When he’d left Frannie in her hotel room at The Peninsula earlier, Andrew met with the hotel’s security team and was able to track Frannie when she left her room for lunch. Agent Simpkins was able to get the surveillance footage from the bookstore but the angle of the cameras gave them no usable images to run through facial recognition.
So, for now, Andrew was keeping an eye out for a man in a leather jacket.
“How did you and my brother become friends?” Frannie said once she paid for an ornament. “Did you work with him on some secret FBI mission?”
Andrew stepped around a couple walking a German shepherd wearing elf ears.Poor dog. “It wasn’t a secret mission …” His attention moved to a man up ahead. He was wearing a leather jacket similar to the one on the man the day before and Andrew’s nerves fired up.
Positioning himself closer to Frannie, he barely took notice of the sweet scent of her hair as his assessed the quickest escape route through the crowd.
“You okay?” She glanced up at him and then down to where he’d unconsciously taken hold of her hand.
Andrew tried not to read into the way her eyes sparkled in surprise. Instead, he let his attention flick back to the man who had turned around and—was not the same guy.
“Sorry.” He released her hand. This wasn’t a good idea. If someone was going to physically come after Ms. Malone and had mistakenly identified Frannie as her, bringing her out in public like this wasn’t smart.
“So, not a secret mission.” Frannie’s statement drew his gaze back down to her. Whatever spark he’d seen in those blue eyes had dimmed. “You used to play for the NHL and the admiration in those boys’ eyes tells me you had superstar status on the ice but when I asked you about your game, you were humble.” She paused in front of another kiosk selling coffee, hot chocolate, mulled wine, and cider. She met his eyes. “Genuinely. So, Andrew Bishop, what’s your story?”
He liked the way his name rolled off her lips in that Southern accent and that thought brought his gaze straight to them.Focus, Bishop. The words of his childhood hockey coach snapped him back to the woman eyeing him almost suspiciously as she waited for his answer.
“Would you like some coffee?”
A bubble of laughter spilled out of her, but he kept his eyes on hers and found himself enjoying the way her whole face lit up with her smile. “No way you were ever a Fed.”
Andrew widened his stance and folded his arms across his chest. He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
Frannie stepped into the coffee line. “Your diversion tactics are lacking.”
He stared at her, wondering if she’d caught the way he’d been looking at her lips. It couldn’t have been longer than a second. Two max.
“What would you like?” Frannie nudged him with her shoulder. “And I’m paying so don’t even think about pulling out your wallet, Bishop.”
That was the second time she’d called him by his last name and it didn’t feel anything like the way it did when his coach or teammates said it.
“I’ll take a medium coffee, black.” He whipped out his wallet and slapped a twenty on the counter. “And I’ll be paying for whatever Frankie is having.”
Her gasp was all the confirmation he needed to know he’d won this round. He smiled, turning, and was met with a glare so teasing there was no way his heart didn’t feel the flutterings of flirtation driving his pulse up.
“My brother is the only one who gets away with calling me Frankie.”
Her attempt at seething fell short and the mention of her brother refocused his attention back to why Frannie was standing there with him in the first place.Keep her safe.
“Frankie!”
The barista called her name and Frannie shook her head. They grabbed their coffees and began walking again, only this time, rather than letting Frannie lead them through another aisle of shops, Andrew led her toward the street, where he could order an Uber.
“Would it be okay if we sat for a minute?”
