So much for finding out what the hell she was talking about.
He had a feeling Frankie would not be nearly so forthcoming when she sobered up. He bent and scooped her up easily, tucking her head into his neck, and strode up the flight of stairs to her flat.
It was only when he was faced with the locked flat door that he fully comprehended his stupidity. He’d dragged her out of the bar without her bag, coat, and most importantly her keys. He was so distracted by getting her out of there and safe, he’d totally overlooked anything practical.
‘What the bloody hell is going on here?’ he heard shrieked from behind him in a slightly slurred voice. He turned and saw Lou standing in the corridor, both hands on her hips. She was obviously trying to look intimidating but her dishevelled hair and her smudged eye makeup were slightly ruining the effect.
‘Babes! For Christ’s sake, can you just wait –’ Dylan came flying up behind Lou and stopped abruptly when he saw Tom and Frankie. ‘What the hell?’
They were both looking at Tom as if he was a Viking marauder who had raped and pillaged his way through a village and was lugging home the spoils.
‘Ohmigod, you roofied her!’ Lou shouted, her eyes wide.
Tom looked at the ceiling, seeking patience. ‘I did not roofie her.’
‘Then why is she passed out?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘Oh I don’t know, Lou,’ Tom bit out. ‘Maybe it’s the alcohol you poured down her throat to get her into this outfit.’ He saw Lou’s body jerk, which confirmed his theory. ‘Or maybe it’s the twenty or so shots you guys knocked back in the bar.’
‘Oh yes, well, I guess there is that,’ Lou conceded.
‘And,’ Tom continued, ‘if I was going to drug Frankie in order to have my wicked way with her, why would I bring her back toherflat to do it?’
‘Fine,’ Lou snapped, but Tom wasn’t nearly finished.
‘If you’re both so protective over her, where were you when she was being mauled by Adrian bloody Fletcher?’ He watched with satisfaction as Lou’s face paled. He was only just remembering how angry he was with her and Dylan for not keeping an eye on Frankie.
‘Is she okay?’ Lou asked softly. She looked worried. Tom saw that the worry in Lou’s eyes was slightly disproportional to the situation. Yes, Frankie had been approached rather aggressively in a bar, but that in itself didn’t justify a full-blown panic.
‘She’s fine, Lou, just drunk. I doubt she’ll even remember much about it.’ He saw Lou breathe a sigh of relief, and Tom frowned at her in confusion.
‘She’s kind of … sensitive,’ Lou explained, moving around Tom to open the door.
‘She always struck me as an ice queen,’ he said.
‘Ice queen? Frankie?’ Lou’s eyebrows were in her hairline as she looked back at him. ‘We are talking about the same Frankie, are we? Shy, but sweet. Funny and kind once you get to know her?’
‘Shy?’ he asked, and as they moved through into the flat Tom noticed Lou’s unsuccessful attempt to shut the door in Dylan’s face.
‘Go back to your whorebag slappers,’ Lou told him, poking him in the chest as Tom laid Frankie down on the sofa.
‘Jesus, babes, what’s crawled up your arse?’ Tom was no expert at reading women’s moods, but knew that that comment was poorly timed. This was confirmed when Lou kicked Dylan in the shin. ‘Ow! Bloody hell, woman, what’s the matter with you?’
‘Get. Out,’ she clipped.
‘Babes,’ was his simple retort as he sat down in one of the armchairs and rubbed his shin. Tom didn’t think Dylan was going anywhere soon; if anything he looked more worse for wear than Lou.
‘Next time I’ll make sure to kick you where it really hurts,’ Lou said crossly as she moved to the kitchen area. Dylan and Tom both shuddered at the determination in her voice, and Tom was tempted to cover his own crown jewels just in case. Why Dylan was poking this particular tiger, he had no idea. He wasn’t sure that he’d hang around, after that threat had been issued. He looked down at Frankie, then back over at Lou.
‘She’s shy?’ he asked again.
‘Well, no, she’s a lot better most of the time, but of course with you …’ Lou trailed off and looked away from him towards the kettle.
‘With me what?’ Tom stood, crossing his arms.
Dylan’s eyes darted nervously between them. ‘Look, babes. You’re steaming, yeah? I don’t think Frankie would want –’
Tom’s gaze snapped to Dylan, ‘Want what?’ Dylan was starting to look slightly panicked, which Tom thought was strange. Now that he thought about it, quite a few things Dylan had said in the past about Frankie were strange in light of this new information. His head tipped to the side as he regarded Dylan. ‘I think maybe you and I need to clarify some stuff, Griffiths.’
