Sophia tilted her chin up and proudly announced, “I am no longer a virgin.”
“Congratulations,” Andie patted her on the back.
“Since when is losing your virginity to a man-whore cause for celebration?” Lauren asked.
“Since I said so,” Sophia answered smugly.
Kristen and Claire stared at one another, at Sophia and finally at Frankie.
“You sold us out?” Claire accused.
“No wonder you’re drinking soda pop tonight,” Kristin growled. “Feeling poor these days?”
Frankie looked up sheepishly. Andie jumped to her defense.
“Don’t act so righteous. She never forced you to sleep with Damon. In fact, it sounds like she bet against your voracious libido.”
“I never dreamed he’d get past Sophia,” Frankie whispered.
“It’s a shame you couldn’t have pulled Lauren and myself in on the bet,” Andie addressed Frankie. “We could have given the Swordsman a run for your money.”
From across the room, Edgar began to laugh. The noise started low in his ample belly and rolled across the room like a tsunami. Frankie slid lower in her chair. Another inch and she’d be crawling around on the floor.
“I assume that one of the contingencies of the bet was the wearing of condoms,” Lauren spoke in her best, business-like voice.
“It was,” Sophia concurred.
“Frankie?” Andie interrupted, “You aren’t drinking margaritas tonight. That’s as unusual as Sophia paying for them. What’s going on?”
Frankie sighed. A long moment passed.
“I guess I might as well make the announcement. You’re going to find out soon enough anyway.”
She sat up straight and reached deep into the pocket of her vest. For a second it appeared to be empty except for a wad of bills and cherry-flavored lipstick. Then her fingers wrapped around the plastic stick and with a flourish, she tossed it on the table.
All conversation stopped.
Kristin and Claire leaned in close and bumped heads.
“Ouch!”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Is this what I think it is?”
Frankie nodded.
“Oh my God!”
“She’s pregnant,” Sophia squealed.
Kristin’s face twisted. “Frankie, is this a good thing or a bad thing?”
Clearing her throat, Claire said, “Can’t you tell by looking at her?”
“Both.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Andie stated.
“I’m keeping the baby, of course,” Frankie whispered. “I’ll raise it myself.”
“Are you telling us that Gage won’t accept responsibility as the father?” Andie asked. “I can’t believe that.”
Frankie stared straight ahead. “I never asked him to,” she confessed. “Things got busy at work yesterday and we never had the opportunity to discuss it.”
“So you assume you’re in this alone?”
“I’m the only one who’s pregnant,” Frankie snapped.
“I think you’re making a big mistake,” Lauren counseled. “You and Gage should go back to the bargaining table and discuss this. I’d be willing to act as a facilitator if you’d like.”
“That’s right,” Sophia added. “The two of you made that baby. He has a right to have some say in this.”
“I never said I wouldn’t give him access to his own child. He’s one of my best friends. He can have all the access he wants.”
“Then what exactly is the problem?” Kristin blurted. “Why so glum?”
Frankie cleared her throat and gazed vacantly across the crowded bar. “I want him to love me the way I love him.”
A medley of “oh” flowed from the table.
* * * *
Gage pushed into the Pioneer Bar. The place was jam-packed. He didn’t care. Frankie was avoiding him. “I don’t want to talk about it right now” was her response each time he tried to discuss their future. Her last words to him before she sped home from work that morning were, “Relax, you’re not under any obligation.” It made his chest hurt thinking about it. He had to get through to her, make her understand how much he cherished her. She had to see how much he needed her in his life.
“I love you. Marry me.”
He had rehearsed those little words till his jaw ached. It was past time to say them out loud to the person who needed to hear them most.
Gage caught sight of her at the usual Sisterhood table and felt a terrible chill. His heart pounded, his stomach clenched with nerves. Somehow his legs moved him forward. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box.
The women at the table fell silent at his approach. He walked to Frankie, dropped to one knee and knelt. He swallowed once, hoping his voice wouldn’t crack.
“Francesca Marie Moriarty, would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”
Gage offered the tiny box.
Frankie stared dumbfounded, her hands clamped convulsively around the armrests of her chair.
“What did you say?”
“Marry me. I’ll take care of you and our baby.”
“I don’t need your help. I’m capable of taking care of myself and the baby.”
“I know that,” Gage answered, the words Quinton had told him to say, forgotten. “Marry me anyway.”
Frankie sat and stared at him. Sophia’s sobbing was punctuated by a firm order from Claire. “Open the jewelry box, you idiot.”
Although Gage wasn’t sure which one of them Claire was addressing, he replied, “Yes ma’am” and popped the lid open. He shoved a sparkling one-carat diamond engagement ring in front of Frankie.
“Will you marry me?”
Not a soul in the Pioneer Brewpub moved. The entire Sisterhood waited breathlessly. Only the harsh sound of Edgar’s nasal breathing could be heard.
A gruff male voice from the corner of the pub drifted towards them.
“Do it, girlie.”
Another voice chimed in, “Say yes, red!”
“Come on, lady, marry him.”
In moments, the entire pub sided with Gage. Frankie blinked back a tear and thought she might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Gage Adams, haggard as though he hadn’t slept for a year, on his knees proposing to her in a public place?
Never in a million, billion years!
“I can’t agree to something so monumental without giving it time to sink in.” She stared at the brilliant ring and shook her head ‘no’. Obligation was not what she wanted.
“I’ll make a good husband and father. I promise.”
Frankie heard the desperate conviction in his voice.
“I’m not leaving until you promise to marry me.”
Frankie heard sniffling. Sophia’s sobs were joined by others.
“I beg you,” Gage pleaded. “Marry me.”
Kristin and Claire fidgeted.
Andie was almost hypoxic from holding her breath.
Lauren shook her head and grabbed Gage by the collar.
“Say the words,” she growled. “Go on, tell her.”
Gage took a deep breath and tried to figure out what the hell Lauren was talking about. His nerves had him strung tight. His proposal was not going well. What was he supposed to do, say next? His eyes darted this way and that.
Edgar came to the rescue.
With a hand held low and close to his chest, the big man slowly spelled the words in sign language. I love you.
Gage repeated the words out loud.
“I love you.”
When she didn’t answer, he blurted loud enough for everyone in the pub to hear.
“I love you!”
Kristin jumped straight out of her chair, clapped her hands.
“It’s about time,” Andie whispered under her breath.
“I need you, Francesca. I adore you and I always have. There’s no room in my heart for any other.” His tone grew more desperate. “It’s your job to rescue people,” he spoke e
arnestly. “You are duty bound, Captain Moriarty. And you’re the only woman who can save me.”
“Do it, Frankie!” Claire yelled. “Say yes or I’ll say it for you.”
Frankie blinked back tears. Staring deep into Gage’s eyes, slowly she reached out, tugged the shining ring from the box and slipped it on her finger for a perfect fit.
The pub exploded in celebration.
EPILOGUE
One Year Later
Frankie pushed open the door to Air Station Harmony Bay with her hip and held a squirming, fussy infant at arm’s length. “Is anybody here?” she called out.
Stewie jumped down from the refrigerator and strolled over to greet her. She leveled an exasperated look at the cat.
“Is anybody human here?”
Gage appeared in the doorway to the pilot’s quarters.
“Hey, honey, what’s up?”
“Your son needs you.”
He rushed to her side. “What’s the problem?”
“He won’t stop crying. Nothing I do makes him happy and I’m all out of tricks. He’s been screaming for nearly an hour. I can’t take it anymore.”
From the garage Quinton asked, “Does little Greg have colic?”
“How would I know?” she blasted back at him. “I’m not a medic.”
Damon called out from his bedroom on the second floor. “Don’t bother asking me to baby sit until you learn how to be a better mom.”
“Since when is having colic my fault?”
“You’re the mom,” Damon replied. “It’s always your fault.”
Frankie heaved a curse under her breath.
“Hey,” Damon nagged, “That’s not appropriate language to use in front of the baby!”
Gage scooped his son out of her arms. He and Frankie had arranged their schedules so that each of them worked one week a month as rescue pilots. Today was only the second day of his duty week and there was already trouble on the home front. He cooed and whispered. “You don’t have colic. You just want to piss Mommy off.”
The infant’s wailing ceased.
“Like father, like son,” Quinton bellowed.
“You’re a much better mother than I am,” Frankie deadpanned.
“Hey, boss,” Damon interrupted. “Can I borrow your luggage when I take Margot to Positano next month?”
“You insult me and then ask for a favor?”
“I could do it the other way around if it’d make you feel better,” he answered. “Especially if you’d let me borrow your luggage.”
It had become common knowledge that Damon was off the sexual market. He had become seriously involved with FBI Agent Margot Corley—the first monogamous relationship of his life. How it happened, nobody seemed to have figured out, least of all Damon himself. Yet the two of them were inseparable and planned an extensive vacation to Italy and Greece. The fact that the kid would make it to Europe before she did irked Frankie more than she cared to admit. Gage reached out and stroked her forearm reassuringly.
“Next fall we’ll take the baby and cross the pond together. He’ll be old enough to travel by then.”
She nodded.
“Put up with Damon’s badgering for a little while longer.” He flashed her a wicked smile. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”
“Copy that.”
She rose on tiptoes to plant a kiss across his cheek just as Damon’s nappy head appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hey, boss,” he tried to look serious. “Wanna see my new tattoo?”
In a blur that left Gage grunting in disbelief, she snatched a wet sponge off the kitchen counter and rocketed it across the yards separating them. The dripping sponge struck Damon square between the eyes and rolled down his nose.
The roar of Quinton’s laughter filled the house.
“I think that’s a negative, mate.”
FEELINGS
by JoDee Strong
Ocean, ocean forever deep
I hear you calling me.
I sense your loneliness
I touch your cold
And I shudder from the fear.
Ocean, ocean dark and stormy
I hear you calling me.
I taste your danger
I feel your pull
And I rise to the challenge.
Ocean, ocean bright and blue
I hear you calling me.
I taste your salt
I feel your breeze
And I know I am alive.
Ocean, ocean sparkling clear
I hear you calling me.
I see your beauty
I feel your magic
And I want to have it all.
Ocean, ocean foamy white
I hear you calling me.
I feel your silkiness
I eye your waves
And I bask in ecstasy.
Ocean, ocean vast and endless
I hear you calling me.
I sense your energy
I watch you ebb and flow
At last I am one with you.
About the Author
Samantha Gail and her husband live in Barrow, Alaska — home to polar bears, Eskimos, snowy owls and arctic foxes, along with amazing northern light shows and plenty of snuggling to keep warm.
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