Welcome Home, Daddy
Page 19
Drew pulled her close, ignoring the oil pooling around their feet.
“Always, Annie. Always.”
EPILOGUE
ANNIE TEETERED ACROSS the parking lot on her ridiculously high stilettos. Take-me-now shoes, or so she hoped.
Annie smiled. She certainly wanted to be taken—over and over again. Both grandmas were watching the kids for the entire weekend and that meant plenty of hot, sweaty, ill-advised sex for her. Ending a six-month stint of celibacy while Drew had traveled to various outposts in the Middle East. And he’d specifically requested her Goth hooker outfit for this anniversary date.
Fighting the urge to readjust the new red thong she had bought for this special occasion, Annie eyed the expanse of asphalt looming between her and the side entrance to the lounge. The mid-May Arizona heat and synthetic fabric made her perspire in places she didn’t want to think about. Déjà vu. But it would all be worthwhile when she saw the look of admiration on her husband’s face. And got to the best part of their welcome-home tradition.
Squaring her shoulders, she stumbled onward. She could do this. She’d endured worse than the Lycra miniskirt from hell. She’d endured childbirth, not once, but twice—the second with twins. She’d gotten through Micah falling out of a tree and breaking his arm while Drew was overseas. And cared for two children under the age of three when she’d gone for weeks at a stretch without hearing from him. Thank goodness for Beth and the other military wives, who were like a second family.
Finally, Annie stepped inside the dimly lit lounge. After the harsh angle of the afternoon sun, she was effectively blinded, only able to discern vague shapes and shadows.
She detected movement as a human form separated itself from the bar and approached.
Blinking, Annie threw herself at the man. Even without her glasses, she would know him anywhere. He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tight, murmuring words of love in her hair. Then he kissed her, showing how much he’d missed her.
Annie lost herself in his embrace, holding him tight, refusing to let go. It didn’t matter that they were in a public place and a murmur of approval spread around them.
Finally, they drew apart, still touching hands as if to make sure this was real, even if it was supposed to be a fantasy. Sometimes real life was even better than anything Annie could have imagined.
Drew cleared his throat, apparently getting into character. “Um, Grace?”
Annie remembered who she was for the evening. “Uh, yes, that’s me. Grace. You’re Drew?”
“Yes.”
She extended her hand at the same time he leaned in for a hug. He stopped and extended his hand at the same time she retracted hers and leaned stiffly from the waist.
Somehow, they managed to approximate an awkward hug.
Annie sighed. The role-playing was an anniversary tradition, but this year she would have preferred to take him to a dark, secluded hotel room right away and make mad, passionate love to him and never stop.
“I’m glad you took pity on me and came out on such short notice,” he said.
Annie forced herself to get back into the script. The sooner they dispensed with this lovely, yet frustratingly public foreplay, the sooner they could get naked together.
“Um, no problem. Kat said you’re shipping out in a couple of days?”
“Yeah.” He touched her elbow. “How about that booth over there?”
Annie sighed in relief as she slid onto the bench. Her feet were killing her.
Drew followed, sitting near enough for their thighs to touch.
She didn’t know if she could handle being so close to him without wanting to touch every inch of his body, making sure he’d come home as unscathed as he claimed.
His warm, brown eyes reflected every bit of the need she felt. He fairly oozed testosterone—from the top of his nearly shaved head, past his tanned, hard biceps, to his sculpted abs.
Sneaking one last, longing glance down his fine form, Annie suppressed a need so intense it nearly took her breath away.
Drew waited, an eyebrow raised. Oh, yeah, the script.
She licked her lips in what she hoped was an inviting way. “So, you’re in the army?”
“Reserves. Got called up for another tour of active duty.”
“I’m sorry. That’s got to be rough.”
“It’s hard on my mom. She worries.”
“Yes, mothers have a way of doing that. So do wives.”
The waitress placed cocktail napkins on the table and glanced at Annie. “What can I get you?”
“Long Island Iced Tea.” She glanced at her date and said, “They make me really…hot.”
Drew ordered a beer and held up a twenty dollar bill. “This is your tip if you get those drinks here in less than five minutes.”
The waitress rushed off, ignoring a customer who tried to get her attention. She seemed intent on earning that twenty.
Annie glanced around the lounge, grateful it never seemed to change from year to year. This was their special place.
“Can you tell me about where you’re going?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s sensitive.”
“That means dangerous?”
He hesitated.
Beneath the table, she trailed her fingers up his thigh. She could hardly wait to get him alone and explore every inch of his body, getting reacquainted.
Drew shrugged. “I’ll be in a…hot spot.”
“You certainly will,” she purred.
“Hey, I don’t remember you saying that.”
“So sue me.” She moved her hand a little higher.
Groaning, he shifted in his seat, leaning in to nibble her earlobe.
This was so not in the script. And she totally approved.
He murmured her name, his mouth deliciously close to her ear, a sound so familiar, so welcome, she wanted to cry.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Drew threw another twenty on the table; they slid out of the booth and left as quickly as her stilettos would allow.
Annie wanted to savor every moment of having her husband to herself for the next forty-eight hours. Because once they got home, it would be kids and dogs and in-laws—all the safe chaos they’d ever wanted.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3834-7
WELCOME HOME, DADDY
Copyright © 2009 by Carrie Weaver.
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