Frankie ran a hand over her head, smoothing her hair back as he stared at her. “You are so beautiful,” he said softly, licking his lips and tasting her there.
“You make me feel beautiful,” Annie said. Then she leaned forward, curled her arms between them, and rested her head on his shoulder. Frankie could feel her warm breaths against his neck, and he closed his eyes in contentment.
Yeah, this was what he wanted. Who he wanted. Annie. In his arms. Soft and warm and content. Frankie wasn’t an idiot; there would be hard times ahead for them both. Long-distance relationships weren’t easy, but he loved Annie with all his heart. He’d make this work. No matter what it took.
“Merry Christmas, Annie,” he said softly as he held her against his chest.
“Merry Christmas, Frankie.”
Emily headed down the hallway after finally getting John to sleep. The toddler had been especially ornery tonight and it had taken all her tricks to finally get him to lie down and close his eyes. She’d checked on Doug and Ethan and found them engrossed in the movie she’d put in for them earlier.
She was about to walk to the master bedroom to see what her husband was up to, when something caught her eye at the bottom of the stairs.
Fletch was standing there, staring into the living room.
Careful not to make a noise, Emily tiptoed down the stairs to see what her husband was looking at so intently. The lights from the Christmas tree lent an intimate glow to the living room…and their daughter and her boyfriend.
She came up beside Fletch and put her arm around his waist, leaning into him as they watched Frankie open Annie’s gift. It was easy to see how affected he was by her choice.
“Told you it was stupid,” they heard Annie say.
“I love it,” Frankie told her.
Emily tensed as she watched her daughter shrug as if it didn’t matter what Frankie thought of her gift. But she knew it did. And Frankie didn’t let either of them down. He placed the bobblehead on the table next to the couch then took Annie’s face in his hands.
“I love you. You could give me a rock and I’d think it was the bestest rock in the world. But knowing you think of me that way? As your hero? I’m speechless.”
Emily mentally sighed. She’d always liked Frankie. He was down-to-earth and a genuinely good kid. And watching him with her daughter, she liked him even more. He treated her as Emily’s own husband treated her. With respect. And he’d never be afraid to show her how much he loved her. What more could a mother ask for her daughter?
“I want to kiss you,” Frankie told Annie.
“Yes. Please,” Annie replied.
“Our first kiss,” Frankie said softly, making Emily smile. Her daughter hadn’t overstepped any bounds with her boyfriend the week he’d been here, and she’d trusted Frankie. Which was the only reason they’d allowed him to stay in their house. If she’d thought for one minute either Annie or Frankie would go further than was appropriate, she and Fletch wouldn’t have allowed the teenager to come to Texas for the week.
As Frankie leaned toward Annie, Emily felt more than heard Fletch growl next to her. Annie might be a mature sixteen, but she was still Fletch’s little girl. Still his sprite.
So she ducked under her husband’s arm to stand in front of him. Planting her hands on his chest, she gave him a little push backward. She nodded with her chin toward the stairs behind them.
Fletch frowned and shook his head.
Emily glared at him and pointed at the stairs this time.
With a sigh, Fletch finally turned and silently headed up toward their room.
Looking back once more before following her husband, Emily saw Annie had straddled Frankie’s lap and they were kissing once more. Smiling, loving that her daughter was learning about love with someone like Frankie, Emily followed after Fletch.
Once the door to their room was shut, Fletch immediately said, “She’s too young for kissing.”
Emily couldn’t help it, she laughed. “When did you have your first kiss?”
Fletch frowned. “We’re talking about Annie, not me.”
“Right. Let me guess, you were around ten?”
“Eleven,” Fletch grumbled.
Emily smiled and walked up to her husband. She didn’t stop until she was plastered against him from chest to thighs. Looking up, loving how he towered over her, Emily said, “Frankie’s a good kid. He’ll take care of her.”
Fletch sighed. “I just…it’s hard to see her grow up.”
“I know.”
“And she’s my only daughter. I want to protect her from all the bad things in the world. If I could keep her in a bubble forever, I would.”
“Annie’s an incredible young woman. Smart, cautious, and she has a good head on her shoulders. We’ve been lucky and haven’t had to deal with much of the normal teenage angst I’ve seen other parents go through.”
“I’ll never forget the panic I felt when I realized Jacks had taken both of you,” Fletch said quietly. “I still see her as that little six-year-old. Scared, but telling me that her mom had said being scared just meant she was going to do something really brave.”
Emily smiled. She hated that her husband still thought about that asshole Jacks, who had kidnapped her and Annie so long ago. “You’ve raised her to be tough, honey. You’ve got to let her go sometime.”
“But not yet,” Fletch grumbled.
“Not yet,” Emily agreed. She had a feeling she needed to distract her husband before he stormed down the stairs and insisted on putting a large pillow between their daughter and her boyfriend for propriety’s sake. She ran her hands up and down his chest. “John’s asleep, and Doug and Ethan will be distracted by their movie for at least another hour,” she said as seductively as she could.
“Yeah?” Fletch asked, the interest easy to hear in his tone.
“Yup.”
“Hmmm, I think it’s been too long since I’ve been inside my wife,” Fletch said in the low, rumbly tone he used when he got turned on, which Emily loved.
She laughed. “Um…forgive me, as I’m getting old and senile, but wasn’t it just last night that you made love to me so hard that I almost passed out?”
“As I said, it’s been too long,” Fletch said before lowering his head.
Emily sighed. This man was everything she thought didn’t exist in the male species. But he’d proved time and time again that he was the kind of man women wrote romances about. Loyal, protective, supportive…and every other positive adjective she couldn’t think of at the moment. Not when he was turning her on so much.
Turning them, Fletch made quick work of her shirt and bra, then shoved her leggings over her hips before throwing her backward onto their mattress. Laughing, Emily kicked both her leggings and underwear off as Fletch knelt over her. He undid the fasteners on his jeans, but didn’t bother to take off his shirt or even remove his pants all the way.
Emily pouted. “I want you naked.”
“I want to be naked,” Fletch returned. “But my sixteen-year-old daughter is downstairs making out with her boyfriend, our boys could get bored with their movie any second, and our toddler is one slammed door away from waking up and crying his heart out for his mommy. Someone needs to stay mostly dressed to deal with our children and any interruptions that might happen.”