Reggie brought the Princess back to the house a while ago now. I had to sit in on a conference call with the head honchos at EWF before I could pack it up for the day and go home to my girl. I tell Mav to pick Indie up and let the boys know they will have the night off. I want to be alone when I talk to Frankie. No outside interruptions. I’ll talk with Reggie about all that’s been going on later and why the fuck he didn’t clue my ass in.
We talked briefly earlier and my blood ran cold when he said that he’d intercepted another letter, this one saying that next time “We won’t miss.” Assuming they’re talking about their attempt on Drew’s life. And that if he doesn’t cooperate soon she’ll be next. My fucking ass she will. As well as a picture of Frankie in one of her classes, that sent my blood from cold to boiling. Reggie said he was pretty sure it was taken from outside of the studio though. Had he told me any of this, I would have come the fuck home immediately. Reggie assured me that if he felt that it was out of his control, he would have had my ass on the next plane to Chicago. It’s just hard to trust someone else with her safety. Now that I’m not so pissed anymore, I can see how stupid it was leaving her here to begin with.
The smell of garlic and tomatoes cooking greets me the moment I walk in. Music floating softly around the room. Frankie is standing at the stove stirring a big pot. Hearing me enter, she turns and smiles tentatively. I’m not sure what that’s all about.
“Hey, I made chicken cacciatore and pasta; it has a few minutes yet though,” she tells me in that sweet voice of hers. Nodding, I lean over her shoulder to look into the pot, breathing deeply. She thinks I’m trying to catch the scent of the sauce simmering, but really it’s her that I want filling my lungs.
“Perfect, I’m starving, and I can use the carbs right about now. Sonny is working my ass hard.”
Frankie just chuckles. “It’s the belt, Deac. You’re gonna be pushed to all of your limits and then he’s gonna push you farther still. That’s why you chose him to train you. He’ll never let you give up.” I nod in agreement. She’s right. I wouldn’t be where I am in my career without Sonny.
“Yeah, well, with the way we’re training now, I’ll be in top form come fight night.”
“I’m sure you’ll be all that and more, so that’s good. If you want, I can work up a couple routines for you. You’ll need strong foot work to stay off the mat with this guy.” She turns and rests against the counter, watching me. Then she totally flips the script on me, talk about needing quick feet. “Why didn’t you call?” Frankie asks quietly. Looking down at her bare toes for a second before bringing her eyes back up to mine.
Sighing deeply, I glance away to collect my thoughts, searching for the words to explain how I feel without hurting her. Meeting her steady gaze, I say gruffly, “I was mad. I was mad as fuck, Princess. I’m still a little pissed to be honest.” I shake my head in disgust. “Not one ounce of me understands your need to see him. It fucked with my head until all I saw was you lying in that hospital bed. All those fucking machines. God, I was so scared.” I press my thumb and index finger into my closed eyes, trying to rid myself of the image. Dragging my hand down my face, I rub my lips roughly before continuing, “I’ve been to war zones that didn’t scare me as much as the possibility of living a life without you in it did. I’ve seen horrible shit, but none of it compared to you lying there lifeless, a machine breathing for you.” I laugh humorlessly, “You wanting to see him for even a moment just did my ass in. It was too much for me. I’ve never been that angry with you, and I didn’t know how to deal . . . so I left.” I cross my arms across my chest, part of me wanting to shake her just recalling the conversation we had, and the other part wanting to draw her into me and claim her until there’s no room left in her mind to even think about going to see him. I’m lost in my own turbulent thoughts when she jars me with her raspy voice.
“Dance with me, Deac. Please? Dance with me?” There’s a soft plea behind her words that undoes me. I let my arms fall and reach for her, pulling her in close and molding our bodies together. The music plays as we sway back and forth, just barely. There’s no finesse or even skill to what we’re doing, but I don’t care as long as I can hold my girl. I smile thinking about her news today, my little family. The words of the song wash over me. My girl, speaking music. It’s no accident “Say You Love Me” is playing. She’s telling me what my leaving did to her faith in us, in my feelings. I run my hand up the center of her back, fingers splayed wide as they make their way over her nape to tangle in her hair. I pull gently, forcing her head back so that I can see her. “I love you, Princess. Always have. Always will. I’m not going anywhere, you feel me?” Tears fill her eyes as Jessie Ware sings on in the background. Frankie closes her eyes, the tears escaping from behind her lids. Wiping them away, I touch my thumb to her bottom lip, pulling down on it, before covering it with my own. As she exhales, I swallow the relief that breath holds. Deepening the kiss, I pull her tighter against me, my tongue tracing the seam of her mouth as my fingers trip over the bumps of her spine.
Frankie arches into me, pressing every inch of her softness into the hard planes of my body. She keeps that shit up and she knows what’s gonna happen. Open palm sliding over her ass, I pull back, placing one more kiss to her swollen lips. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about this baby thing?” my smile instantaneous. “Why didn’t you call me to tell me, and how did you find out?” I ask as I lead her over to the island and lift her onto a stool, taking the one next to her.
“I did call and text. You barely answered any of them and it’s not something I thought I should tell you over the phone.” She puffs out a breath. “I was planning to leave with Cristiano as soon as you got back. I just wasn’t sure when that would be.” Hopping down from the stool, she goes over to the stove and gives the sauce a stir. I ignore the “leaving with Cristiano” shit for now because I can see the wheels turning as she stares into the pot like it holds all the damn answers of the world.
“What is it? Just go ahead and ask, Frankie.” I have a feeling I know what she’s thinking about, but I want her to say it. My reasons are more than selfish. One, I don’t want to bring it up if I’m wrong, and two, I like it when she’s jealous. It’s hot as fuck. I don’t want her to ever be insecure or not trust me because I meant what I told my brothers: I’ll never cheat on her. Clearly, I’m a fuck up when it comes to breaks, but I don’t plan on any more of those, so I’m golden.
“I want you to ask me, Frankie.” I watch her profile, the way she has her lips pursed, chewing on the inside corner as she thinks about what she wants to say.
Finally she speaks up. “Did you see Jodi while you were in Cali?” She’s trying to be nonchalant about it. I grin smugly. “I always see Jodi when I go,” I answer being obtuse on purpose. I really should put her out of her misery; she’s been through enough. But for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t have to worry about my answer. And fuck me if that doesn’t feel good. “Are you asking if I fucked her while I was there or just if I saw her? The answers are different so I want to be clear.” My elbows resting on the granite countertop, I watch as she wars with herself. She wants to ask but is afraid of the answer and that hurts my fucking heart. I want her to be sure of the answer. To have no doubt that she can ask and not be hurt by what I tell her. That’s on me though, not Frankie. “I want to hear you say it, Princess. Don’t pretend you’re not over there dying to ask. So ask.”
“We’re not together, Deac, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” she asks as she places the spoon down.
“Who’s not together?” I snort out a laugh. “You pregnant with my baby?” Not waiting for her to answer, I go on, “Trust me, Princess, we’re together as fuck. You tell yourself whatever it is you need to, but your ass is mine. Now ask me,” I demand.
Eyes narrowed, she watches me a second. “Did you sleep with Jodi while you were there?” she asks in a rush.
Without hesitation, I answer, “No. Not her or anyone else while I was there. Now will you kindly feed me and then let me eat?” I flash her a wicked grin and let my gaze travel down her body and then back up, my smile growing with every inch of her skin that flushes under my perusal. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite over the last twelve days, Princess.” I watch as her breathing deepens. “And you’re the one that I want.” As I’m about to get up and carry her ass off to the bedroom—dinner can wait—I hear the front door open and then slam closed. The fuck?
“Hey, Deacon?” I hear Sonny call out before he is standing in the kitchen with us. “Oh, good, you’re home. Hey, Frankie. That smells incredible,” he says as he places a kiss on her head. “You have enough for one more? I’m starving.” We both answer at once, my emphatic “no” ignored as my pain in the ass brother takes a seat next to me at the island.
“He can take his shit to go, Princess,” I tell her, glaring at Sonny’s profile. He’s always been a cock-blocker.
My shitty tone does nothing to deter my brother, never has, probably why he and I have thrown down on more than one occasion. Seems like the only way to get him to take my mood seriously. Maybe I should dot his eye now, then he might get the hint that he should take his ass home. My girl clearly doesn’t think I’m intimidating either.
“What do you want to drink, Sonny?” Frankie asks as she places a pasta bowl in front of him.
“I’ll take a beer if you have it.” Fucker. He’s well aware that I can’t drink right now. “Mmmmmm, did someone tell you I was coming over? Your chicken cacciatore is my favorite.” The Princess smiles at his praise.
“No, as a matter of fact, they did not. Wanna know how I know? Because she was just about to let me take her upstairs and fu—”
Smile now gone, Frankie interrupts me by shoving a piece of hot Italian bread into my mouth. “Shut up and eat, Deac,” she demands. Shooting daggers at me as she sets my food down.
Jameson shakes his head at me in mock disappointment, clucking his tongue like a ninety-year-old prude. “Is that any way to speak about the mother of your child?” he deadpans, fighting to keep a straight face. Turning to Frankie, he sets his smile on her. “Speaking of which, I never got a chance to properly congratulate you before Tarzan here kicked us out. I never thought I’d see the day that Deacon would become a dad. I damn sure didn’t think that he would be the first,” my brother says chuckling, although I detect a hint of sadness behind his words.
Frankie walks around the counter and into his embrace, murmuring to him low enough that I can’t hear them, so I just look on and watch my oldest brother, coach, and best friend interact with my girl while I dunk my bread in the sauce pooling around the chicken on my plate. They’re obviously having a moment. “If you two are finished hugging all up on each other, why don’t you tell me why you’re here, bro?” I go back to my food and wait for him to answer. Finally, he sets Frankie aside.
“We need to go over your schedule for the next week. I have them putting the Cage up in the basement. They took it down to paint, but I want you in it every day, getting a feel for it. You train better when you’re surrounded by chain link for some reason,” he says grinning. “I also have a wrestler coming in to help us figure out how to beat Rude Awakening on the mats. I had Mav call Crew to recommend someone for us to reach out to.” Sonny pauses to take a bite, I watch him, trying to figure out what his deal is.
“And why did this have to go down tonight? Wasn’t I just in the gym with you for the last ten fucking hours?” What the hell is going on? “Do I not have a seven A.M. gym time tomorrow as well? Why the house call, Jameson?”
Sighing, he shrugs, “I just wanted to come check on the Princess.” He jerks his head in her direction. “That was quite the bombshell that you dropped on us earlier.” Sonny chuckles and then sobers, turning to face Frankie fully. “Are you feeling okay?” I can hear the tinge of worry in his voice. He’s concerned about her, I get it, but he’s acting strangely.
Frankie slides onto the stool next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I’m fine. Just normal pregnancy stuff that finally makes sense to me. I couldn’t figure out why I was so tired all the time, or nauseous, why my boobs got so damn big.”
Pointing my fork at her, I interrupt. “My brother does not need to know a thing about your tits. At all. Ever.” Eyebrows raised in a “you feel me” manner I nod and go back to my food.
“You’re impossible, you see that, right?” she asks as she tries to smother the threatening grin.
“Impossible or not, no tit talk.” I wink, taking a bite of chicken.
Jameson laughs from his spot in between us. “I’m siding with Deac on this one, Princess.” To soften the blow, he places a quick kiss to the side of her head and goes back to his food.
About an hour later, I finally get Jameson to leave, locking up behind him. Alarm set, I head back to the kitchen and watch as Frankie flits about, cleaning up our dinner mess.
“Can I help with that?”
She jumps, startled. “Oh my God, Deacon. You scared the shit out of me.” Hand to her chest she laughs nervously. “No, I’m all finished,” Frankie tells me right as she lets out a huge yawn. “I’m sorry, I am so exhausted. This is later than I’ve been up in a couple of weeks,” she admits.
I can see just how tired she is. Apparently she hadn’t slept well while I was away either. Slowly I raise my arm and hold out my hand for her to take. When she places her tiny, soft hand in my rough, calloused one, I’m home. She’s all I’ll ever need and now she’s so much more. Frankie is not only my best friend, the love of my fucking life . . . she’s the mother of my child. The only one who will ever own that title. The only one I want to. I’m going to wife the fuck out of her. She just doesn’t know it yet.