Frankie glanced over at her before turning his attention back to the road. “No. Why? Is he giving you shit about not having set a date for our wedding? If he is, I’ll talk to him and tell him to back off.”
Annie stared at Frankie as he drove. He’d been a gangly teenager, but had definitely grown into a very good-looking man. His dark hair was a bit too long on top, and he had a five o’clock shadow. He was wearing a gray-shirt with short sleeves that showed off his toned and muscular biceps. His stomach was flat and he had a six-pack set of abs from regular workouts. His nose was slightly crooked from falling off his bike when he was in middle school, when he broke it. At the moment, his brows were drawn down in consternation, as if even the thought of her dad giving her grief annoyed him.
Annie had never been the kind of woman who needed or wanted a man to stand up for her. She was perfectly capable of holding her own against anyone who had a beef with her. She didn’t hesitate to interject herself into situations where someone else was being picked on or harassed either. But knowing that this man—this amazing, wonderful, hot-as-hell man—was irritated on her behalf, made butterflies swirl in her belly.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she told Frankie.
“Seriously, Annie. If he’s been on your case, I’ll talk to him. When we do or don’t get married isn’t any of his business. We’ll do it when the time is right for us both. And if that takes twenty more years—or even if it never happens—that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”
“You don’t want to get married?” Annie asked in surprise.
“I didn’t say that. I’ve known since I was seven years old that I want to marry you, Annie. There’s nothing I want more than to tie the knot in front of our friends and families. But I will never rush you into anything you don’t want or aren’t ready for.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to marry you,” Annie protested.
“I know, baby. I get it. You have so many responsibilities and goals, and people count on you to be there when they need them. It’s fine. As I said, I have no problem waiting as long as it takes. You’re it for me. There will never be another woman. Ever. So if your dad is giving you shit, I’ll tell him to knock it off.”
Annie snorted. “You’ll tell Fletch to knock it off?” she asked skeptically.
“Okay, maybe not in those exact words,” Frankie said with a grin. “He wouldn’t take very kindly to that. Would probably challenge me to a duel in the backyard or something.”
“He’s not that bad,” Annie insisted.
“Riiight,” Frankie said, drawing out the word. “When I went to him for permission to ask you to marry me, he stared at me so intensely, I swear I thought he was gonna explode. Then he proceeded to give me an hour-long lecture about how if I ever made you cry, or hurt one hair on your head, he and his friends would make me disappear so thoroughly, no one would ever find any evidence of my existence…and certainly wouldn’t ever find anything to prove that they’d done it.”
Annie laughed. She’d heard this story so many times already, and each time Frankie told it, he embellished more and more. In truth, her mom had told her Fletch cried and agreed immediately. Then he’d warned Frankie that if he hurt his baby girl, he knew ten different ways to make a body disappear without a trace.
Reaching out, Annie put her hand on Frankie’s thigh. She felt his muscle tighten…and just like that, desire rose within her. Only this man had ever made her feel that way. As if he didn’t touch her, she’d die. Of course, with her broken ribs, making love would be difficult. And Frankie always seemed to know when she was hiding something from him, including pain.
“I want to marry you,” she told him seriously.
“I know.”
“I just…my mom’s gonna want this huge shindig. And there are so many people we’ll have to invite. It’s gonna be a mad house, and my commander has been great about giving me time off, but it all seems so overwhelming.”
“Say the word and we can go to Vegas,” Frankie said.
Annie couldn’t help but hear the longing in his voice. It was one more thing she felt guilty about.
She’d never told him the real reason why she’d put off marrying Frankie for so long. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. She did. But early in her Army career, she’d overheard a general talking about her with another high-ranking officer. He’d been impressed with her enthusiasm and dedication, but then he’d said, “I’m sure she’ll run off and get married though, ruining her career. She’ll want to pop out babies, and she’ll get fat and out of shape. It’s a shame, really, as I could see Lieutenant Fletcher rising up in the ranks if she devoted herself to her career.”
His words were insulting, derogatory, and discriminatory. They’d disgusted Annie—yet she’d never been able to shake them. The words had soaked into her psyche like an invasive virus.
She’d worked harder than those around her to prove to that general and everyone else that she wasn’t like other women. She was serious about her career, about being the best Green Beret the Army had ever seen. She shouldn’t give two fucks what other people thought about her…but to her shame, she did.
And now, three years had gone by since Frankie had asked her to marry him, and she’d said yes, and they still hadn’t done the deed.
Frankie reached down and intertwined his fingers with hers. “But tonight, we aren’t going anywhere,” he said lightly. “We’re gonna eat, you’ll call your dad to let him know you’re home, then you’re gonna let me baby you a bit. One day at a time, right?”
“Right,” she agreed. They’d talked about this years ago, when they’d moved to her first duty station. He’d found a job with the VA and it had served him well over their several moves, allowing him to keep his job, just working for a different hospital in each new location. He never complained. Simply took each obstacle they encountered with a grace and dignity that she admired.
“Close your eyes and relax,” Frankie ordered.
Smiling, Annie squeezed his hand and did just that. She was safe with Frankie, she knew that down to her toes. Some of the stress that had built up within her over the least week eked away. Frankie was her safe harbor. She could be her real self with him. He was her biggest supporter.
Annie had a lot of decisions she knew she needed to make, but for now, she was home. She was alive. And she was with the most amazing man in the world. Everything else could wait.
Later that night—much later—Frankie lay in bed next to Annie, watching her sleep, and could finally let down his guard. When he’d first gotten a glimpse of her, he’d nearly fallen to his knees. She had a bruise that covered her entire forehead. It was still in the purple and red stage, meaning it was fairly fresh. The stitches in her brow didn’t bother him nearly as much as that bruise did.
After dinner, and while she was reassuring her dad that she was truly all right, he’d gone upstairs and run a hot bath for Annie. She’d always loved long, scalding soaks, and he couldn’t think of a better welcome home than a relaxing bubble bath.