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Excerpt:
Why was it
that she only owned jeans and T-shirts? Most girls have at least one dress!
Giving up, Frankie dramatically flopped face-first onto her bed, deciding she
would just spend the entire BBQ in that position. Honestly, there was nothing
else she could do.
“Do I even
want to know?” Deb popped her head into the room.
“Doff weeve
muy loon,” she mumbled into the bedspread.
“Duff’s a
loon? Do we even know a Duff? Hey, Megan, do you know a Duff?” Deb called down
the hall.
“No, why?”
came the reply from the kitchen.
“Ha-ha, you’re
so funny,” Frankie grumbled, raising her head off the bed. Her hair now closely
resembled a bird’s nest freshly fallen from a tree. In a storm. A bad one.
Maybe cyclonic. “I said Leave. Me. Alone.” She theatrically dropped her head
back down.
“I’m not sure
I can, in clear conscience, remove myself from the room. What sort of friend
would I be if I weren’t here in your time of”—she helplessly waved her hands in
the air—“whatever this is?”
Frankie
sighed. “Fine, since you seem to be enjoying this so much, I have nothing to
wear.”
Deb’s mouth
twitched a little. “I had noticed you running around naked a lot. I just
thought you were trying to even out your tan. Apparently not. Whoa!!” Deb
ducked quickly to dodge the pillow Frankie launched at her head. Finding a
white shirt Frankie had earlier, she waved it above her head in surrender. “I
come in peace. Please, no shoot.”
Frankie,
despite her peevish mood, couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine, but I think I am
beyond help.”
“My, you are
committing to drama today, aren’t you? Is it because the farrier stud muffin is
coming over?”
Frankie
snorted in an unladylike manner. “Dare you to call him that to his face.”
“I would, but
I want him to be able to fit his hat back on his head at some point,” Deb
deadpanned. “Okay, let’s have a look at what we’re working with here.” She
headed confidently to Frankie’s closet.
In the end,
Frankie did find something to wear, and it was jeans and a shirt. But hey, Deb
had to work with what she had. Her long blonde hair hung sleekly from a high
ponytail and her jeans hugged her slender curves, the lean muscles shaped from
long hours in the saddle. The merle-grey V-neck T-shirt clung just enough in
the right places. Deb didn’t care what Frankie thought. She was pretty sure there
wasn’t going to be any complaints.
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