Once and For All: An American Valor Novel (20 page)

With the door closed behind her, she dropped her purse and keys on the coffee table and fell into the recliner. Danny took a seat opposite from her on the loveseat and cleared his throat. “I think you should know I’ve already apologized to Mike. I owe you an apology, as well.”

“Danny—”

“Please,” he said, raising a hand. “I don’t honestly believe there’s something going on between you two. I just . . .” His shoulders lifted to his ears, his hands suspended midair as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just snapped. And I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.”

In return, she quickly accepted his apology.

Danny closed his eyes and carefully scrubbed a hand over his face, his knuckles cut and bruised. He hung his head, the palm of his hand skimming over the top his head to rub the back of his neck. She’d seen him tired from physical exhaustion, but this was different. He looked emotionally drained, beaten down. And when he lifted his face and looked at her with those deep blue eyes, she saw a hint of fear for the very first time since they’d moved to Savannah.

“I met with an oncologist this week,” she began. “More of a get-to-know-each-other kind of thing than anything else. He drew some blood and we went over my medical history. Everything is good.”

The breath he’d been holding whooshed from his lungs. “That’s good. Really good.” The right corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile, the relief evident on his face.

How she’d get through the rest of the conversation she didn’t know. Only one thing was for certain, she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. Instead, she stared at her folded hands and distracted herself a moment longer as she scraped at the chipping nail polish on her thumb. Secretly, she hoped he’d ask what he wanted to know. But he promised not to pry into her life and ask a bunch of questions. And for two months he’d kept his end of the bargain despite his worries. He wouldn’t suddenly change now.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you this week. I’ve had kind of a tough time the past few days, but it’s not because of anything you’ve done or said.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.”

“But I do,” she answered swiftly so as to not let herself off the hook.

She told him how she’d been left to care for Hannah earlier in the week. How although she’d been around her for weeks it was the first time she’d had to do more than just listen out for her on the baby monitor. She told him how she bathed her and dressed her and held her in her arms as she rocked her to sleep.

“You want a baby,” he said, just plain and simple.

A half laugh escaped her, although the conversation was far from amusing. “I’d love one, but can’t have one. Ever.” Her eyes met his and Danny dipped his head, silently encouraging her to go on. “With the first diagnosis they removed one ovary. With the second, they removed . . . everything. Not only will I never carry a child, but I couldn’t find a doctor who would harvest my eggs so I could use a surrogate later on if I wanted to.”

“You could always adopt.”

“Adoptions are expensive and agencies want guarantees. The last thing they want to do is give a child to someone who has a higher than average chance of dying. They want a doctor to sign a piece of paper saying I’ll never have cancer again. That will never happen.” Her lip trembled and the tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them. She straightened her spine and swiped the tears away with the back of her hand. “It’s done. I’ve accepted it. And honestly, I’m grateful just to be alive. But every once in a while, there’s a selfish part of me that wonders, why me?” she said, hiccupping the words. “Why didn’t I get to be one of the lucky ones who has it all?” Bree covered her face with both hands, now unable to control the flood of tears.

Within seconds she was being lifted from the chair, one strong arm cradling her back, another beneath her knees. She thought he intended to carry her to bed, like he’d done so many times before. Instead, Danny took her place in the recliner and settled her across his lap, guiding her head to rest against his shoulder. At first she resisted, not wanting his pity. But he held her prisoner in his arms, unwilling to let her go.

Even before their conversation, before the picnic, she was so very tired and now, even more so. Within a matter of seconds she gave up the fight and Danny loosened his hold as she relaxed into his embrace.

“You go ahead and cry all you need to,” he whispered against her temple as he began to gently rock the two of them. “I’ve got you. And this time, I’m not going anywhere.”

Months of pent-up anger and sadness and resentment, feelings she had shoved down deep as she tried to move forward with her life, all came rushing out in a flood of tears. True to his word, he stayed with her through it all. Never rushing her through her grief, never asking if she was almost done. Instead, he rocked her well into the night, stopping occasionally to dry her tears or kiss her cheek. By the time she’d cried herself out, she felt physically drained but lighter somehow. The weight she’d been lugging around by herself for so long was now gone and she could finally move forward.

She placed her hand on his chest, felt the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You don’t ever have to handle it alone. No matter what, I’ll always be here for you. Okay?”

Danny smiled when she nodded in understanding and placed a delicate kiss to her lips. Tightening his hold once more, he rose to his feet and carried her to bed.

Chapter Twenty-One

T
HE STACK OF
clothes and shoes and other essentials piled on the bed far exceeded the size of Bree’s weekend bag. Of course, if Danny would just tell her what his plans were, it’d be far easier to pack. She did know that it’d be somewhere relatively close since his company was on call and not allowed to travel farther than two hours from HAAF, so a weekend on a Caribbean beach, sipping fruity drinks with little umbrellas in them, was out of the question.

Surely, he wasn’t dragging her to some golf resort?

Bree laughed to herself. That definitely sounded like something Michael would do, but Danny, not so much. A nice weekend of lazing around, being waited on was more his style. Maybe a nice dinner and afterward take in some sights and live music, too.

Things between them had improved dramatically in the past two weeks since she let down her guard and told him all of her secrets. There still were, and likely always would be, moments of sadness, but nothing like the heavy weight pressing upon her before. And taking Danny’s advice, she shared with Marie, as well, just so anytime she wept while watching TV commercials or had a craving for ice cream or had a touch of stomach flu, Marie wouldn’t jump to the assumption Bree was pregnant. And knowing she wouldn’t have to dance around the subject of having kids or adopting in the future made living life far easier.

From the bedroom she heard the turn of the dead bolt and heavy footsteps on the entryway tile, followed by him calling out her name. Bree quickly tossed in the delicate lingerie she’d purchased the day before and zippered the suitcase closed in a rush.

“How’s my birthday girl? All packed and ready to go?”

She spun around to face him. “Hey, there.”

A smile stretched his face, revealing the dimple in his cheek. “Whatcha hidin’?”

“Nothing,” she said, trying her best to project a look of wide-eyed innocence.

Clearly not buying it, he stalked toward her instead. “I have ways of making you talk.”

Bree placed her hand flat on his chest and narrowed her eyes. “You have your surprises, I have mine. And you’re the one who started this whole thing to begin with.”

“Fair enough.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, followed by a second and third. “Let me take a quick shower and then we’re outta here,” he said while grasping the back of his shirt with one hand and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion.

Her hand, however, remained in place a moment too long.

“Want to join me?”

Bree forced her gaze from the warm, damp flesh beneath her palm to his face.

Danny lowered his voice and waggled his eyebrows. “I could use help washing my front.”

“Whatever.” Bree pushed off his chest, putting a little distance between them. “Hurry up or we’re going to be late.”

Danny laughed and gave a little swat to her behind as she maneuvered past him. “You don’t even know where we’re going!”

She shot him a look of irritation over her shoulder then smiled just before he disappeared into the bathroom, happy that they’d found their playful groove once again.

In the other room her laptop dinged with a new email as she double-checked the contents of her handbag. Wallet. Lipstick. Phone and charger. From the bottom of her purse, she pulled out a foil packet and with a smile, tossed it on the kitchen table. Not that it was taking up any room, just that it was completely unnecessary now.

When she first suggested they go without using a condom, he resisted temptation, citing the fact that while he’d always been sure to wear one, he hadn’t been exactly a Boy Scout, either. Despite the annual physicals provided by the military, he chose to have an additional checkup completed by someone other than his brother. And when the results came back good, they celebrated. Which was very,
very
good.

The shower shut off and she turned just in time to see Danny streak across the hallway, all the while carrying the towel and dripping water all over the carpet. It still amazed her how quickly he readied himself and she knew she had only a matter of minutes to wrap everything up.

Recalling her email dinged earlier, Bree decided to check it one last time before they headed out. More than likely it was a promotional email from Target or iTunes or Macy’s because Lord knew they loved to email her every single day, but in case it wasn’t—she stopped short at seeing a familiar name in the window and clicked open the message. Her eyes scanned the screen and once she reached the end, unable to believe what she’d read, Bree started over at the top and read it a second time.

“Ready to go?”

Danny stood at the door wearing a blue button-down shirt and chinos, an overnight bag in each hand.

“Yeah. I just need a second.” Ignoring the look of concern on his face, she closed out her email and powered off the computer. Needing a moment to steady herself, she took a deep breath and carefully hung her handbag over one shoulder.

With one little email, everything had changed.

Their overnight bags landed on the floor with a dull thud and Bree looked up to see Danny prowling toward her. Panic twisted her gut, fearing he’d somehow caught a glimpse of the email. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, taking her face in both of his hands. “Just remembered I forgot something.”

“I thought we were in a hurry,” she whispered the moment before his lips touched hers.

“Never in too much of a hurry for this.”

True to his word, Danny took his time, the first brush of his lips against hers soft and tender then progressing to more playful and demanding. When he pressed her lips open and stroked her tongue with his, she melted into him, forgetting all her previous worries about the email. She rested her hands upon his chest and soaked all of him in. The steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. The heat of his body and minty scent of his breath. Then, without warning, he backed away.

A little dazed and a lot confused, she looked up to see a cocky grin and mischievous glint in his eyes. “Now it’s time to go.”

W
ITHOUT A DOUBT,
Danny had big plans for the weekend. Ones that included telling Bree how much he loved her, how he wanted to ditch the temporary part of their arrangement and remain husband and wife for the rest of their lives.

The black velvet box he’d kept hidden for days was burning a hole in his pocket, but he was determined to do this right. That day in her backyard when he first suggested they married, she’d said she’d always dreamed of a romantic proposal. Of how she’d always thought there would be flowers and dinner and a man getting down on one knee. And in all his smart-ass glory, he said he’d have to leave it to the next guy. Only now,
he
wanted to be the next guy. He wanted to be her only guy. So tomorrow night Bree would get the marriage proposal she’d always wanted.

As Danny pulled into the private lot of the historic Savannah hotel, Bree clapped her hands and squeed. “Are we staying here?”

“No,” he deadpanned. “I was just checking to see if they could watch our bags for us.”

Bree rolled her eyes and hopped out of the Tahoe before he shifted into Park. With her cell phone at the ready, she began snapping pictures in every direction, oohing and aahing about the ivy-covered walls and the iron fences and the hanging baskets overflowing with brightly colored blooms.

He’d make fun of her if he wasn’t secretly relieved. The last thing he wanted was for Bree to be disappointed they weren’t going farther than fifteen minutes from home or staying in one of the modern properties along the riverfront.

“We can’t stay long,” he said while retrieving their bags from the back of the truck. “We have somewhere else we need to be.”

She lowered her phone and turned to face him, her smile alone worth every dime he was shelling out this weekend. “What all do you have planned?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

Within the hour they’d boarded a riverboat dinner cruise and were sipping umbrella drinks on the boat’s top deck as they cruised east on the Savannah River, heading for The Waving Girl and old Fort Jackson. Many times in the past ten years he’d seen these boats cruising the river, and each and every time he wondered what kind of man would spend any amount of money on something so cliché. Which was the same thought he always had about the horse-drawn carriage rides. And the four-star bed-and-breakfast hotels.

And now he knew the answer.

Although it was late when they returned to the hotel, Bree was in tourist mode once again, having charged her phone a few additional percent on the short drive back. This time she snapped pictures of the room’s interior since they’d only made it as far as the downstairs parlor when they checked in earlier.

Danny watched in amusement as she scurried about the room, taking pictures of the claw-foot tub, the antique plates and vases decorating the fireplace mantel, of the four-poster bed and the creepy portrait that hung above the headboard, all the while ignoring the obnoxious beep of her phone as it warned her of its imminent death. Leaving the best for last, she stepped out onto the balcony to admire the small courtyard garden below, complete with cast-iron fountain, now beautifully lit by the full moon.

With one final beep, her phone died. Bree whispered a curse and lowered her arms.

“Are you done for the night?” he asked from the doorway.

She sighed in disappointment. “I really wanted a picture of the garden. Everything about it is perfect right at this very moment.”

He made his way across the balcony, the old wooden floors creaking beneath his feet. “I guess a mental picture will have to do for now.” But as far as he was concerned, to hell with the garden. This was the picture he wanted to sear into his brain, of her silhouette in the dark, of the moonlight highlighting the side of her face and neck.

Danny skimmed the back of his finger against the softness of her shoulder, just a ghost of a touch, really, before sliding beneath the spaghetti-width strings of her dress that crisscrossed her back. Her breathing became more labored as he stroked and teased her skin. When he leaned forward to press a kiss to her nape, the cell phone she’d been holding clattered to the floor.

They both reached for it at the same time, but his arm was longer. “I’ve got it,” he said, picking it up and shoving it in his pocket. Taking her now-empty hand in his, Danny guided it back to the railing in front of her, wrapping her fingers around the wood. “You just hold on to this.”

“Danny . . .”

“The only way we can be seen is from the courtyard and we’ll hear anyone long before they could see us.”

“If you say so.” Her soft giggle transitioned into a contented sigh as Danny picked up where he left off. He pressed delicate kisses against her shoulder, traced her neck with the tip of his nose. When Bree’s head lolled to one side, he took her earlobe between his teeth, testing the tender flesh before soothing it with his tongue.

With one hand he caressed her breasts through the soft fabric of her dress, the tips pebbling beneath his palm. His other hand coasted along her side, across her hip, where he felt the thin ridge of a waistband and texture of lace. Bree had always been a practical girl when it came to her underthings, but tonight she was wearing something different, something special. He drew up the skirt of the dress with his fingertips until it gathered at her waist so he could sneak a peek.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

The soft white lace she wore provided far more coverage than a traditional thong, but was cut in a way to expose more of her bottom, leaving the sweet curves of her ass cheeks on beautiful display.

Suddenly, he found it difficult to breathe.

Bree looked over her shoulder at him. “You like?”

“What do you think?”

In an instant he’d hauled her over his shoulder and carried her into their room, kicking the French door closed with his foot perhaps a little too hard. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to take the time now to see if he’d broken it. He set her on her feet at the foot end of the bed, only long enough to lift the dress over her head before spinning her around and bending her over the mattress.

Laughing, she attempted to roll onto her back, but he quickly stopped her with a hand. “But I want to touch you,” she complained.

“You can. Later.”

Silently she agreed, remaining just as he wanted even after he removed his hand. Danny quickly went to work on his clothes but just as he loosened the last button on his shirt, he looked up to find the old judge or ship’s captain, whatever he was, staring at him. Judging him.

Bree noticed him freeze up. “What’s the matter?”

He pointed to the antique portrait above the bed. “His eyes are following me.”

Danny pulled his arms from the sleeves and, grabbing one of the corner posts, hoisted himself up to walk across the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” She laughed.

“I can’t work like this. Damn thing is creeping me out.” He hung his shirt from the top edge of the frame, straightening the fabric to make sure it stayed completely covered. He removed his hands and stepped back, watching to see if it would remain in place. Completely satisfied with his temporary solution, he climbed down from the bed.

“Now . . .” Danny swatted her ass, eliciting another giggle from her. “Where were we?”

He leaned over her, pressing his chest to her back as he started over at the top, kissing her neck and shoulders. With hands and mouth he savored every inch of her skin, working his way south until once again he’d reached that lacy white fabric. He smoothed his palm over the swell of her ass.

“Damn, Bree. These are nice. They’re making me kinda crazy. Make me want to . . .” And before he second-guessed himself and before she could stop him, he leaned over and nipped her left cheek. Her yelp of surprise lengthened into a soft moan as he soothed the mark with his lips and tongue while his fingers provided an additional distraction between her thighs.

“Danny, please.” Bree pushed herself up on her toes, exposing herself even more to him. “Please.”

Within seconds he removed the remainder of his clothes and in one swift motion pulled the white lace from her body. He fisted his length, using the time to take a mental picture of his own so he would always remember her in this moment: open, exposed, her hands twisted in the comforter as she pulled herself higher onto the bed, begging him to fill her.