Her Old-Fashioned Husband (8 page)

“That’s ok. I had one. Guess
it’s
lost now.”
Frankie closed her eyes briefly
, wobbling
.
“Whoa.”

Suddenly she found herself held up against a wide chest. She pushed, fighting as she opened her eyes, panting heavily.

“Easy, kid. I won’t hurt you. You were about to fall over.”

She blinked and realized she was held against the stranger’s chest.

“Oh, thanks. You can let me go.”

He stared down at her sternly. “I let go of you and you’ll be on your ass. Now tell me where you need to get to or give me your brother’s number and I’ll ring him. Did you say his name was Brax? I know a Brax Jamieson, is that him?”

“How’d you know?” she asked suspiciously.

He snorted. “Brax ain’t a common name.”

No,
she supposed not.
“How do you know Brax?” she asked.

“Mutual acquaintances,” he replied smoothly.
“So what’s it going to be, miss?
” he said in a tone of voice she knew well. “Am I calling Brax or giving you a ride home because I am not leaving you out here. You’re in no condition to look after yourself. You need a bottom warming for this little stunt.”

Frankie groaned. “Not you, too.
Don’t worry.
I’m sure my husband will take care of it when he gets home tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” he asked as he began walking, tugging her along. “And who is he?”

“Tom Sanders,” she replied tiredly. She should probably resist him, but she really wanted to sleep.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice a
mused for some reason. “
Well, can’t let Doc Sanders wife stand around in the cold, can I?”

“You know Tom?” she asked as they reached a dark car. She couldn’t tell what make it was.

He helped her inside and pulled the belt across her.

“I’m surprised your husband let you out without him.”

Frankie frowned. “I’m not a child,” she said sulkily, folding her arms across her chest as she pouted.

“Doesn’t seem that way to me, little girl,” he scolded. The car started moving and she closed her eyes, hoping that would help the nausea. “You deserve a damn good spanking for this. I’m half tempted to do it myself.”

“What is it with the men around here?” she complained. “All you ever do is spank and scold.”

He snorted. “You’re obviously married to the wrong man if that’s all he does, sweetheart.”

She sighed. “More like he’s married to the wrong woman.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

A sob escaped. “I can’t have children.”

A warm hand encased hers. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Did you just find out?”

“We’ve been trying for a year and nothing. He deserves better. He needs
a wife who can give him the perfect life
.”

“
No such thing as perfect.
If all he wants from his you is children then he doesn’t deserve to have you.”

She sniffled miserably.

“Is that why
you were out getting drunk
tonight?” he asked in a deep voice.

For some reason, maybe because the alcohol had reduced her inhibitions or she just needed to tell someone, Frankie found herself confessing everything. Her pain over another failed pregnancy test. The fact that she thought Tom would be better off without her.
Her failure to be the perfect wife.

When
she finished, she realized he’d stopped the car and was holding her against his chest as she cried.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she apologized, mortified. She moved back to her own seat, wiping her hands over her cheeks.

“Don’t be, little one. Sounds to me like you needed to get that all off your chest. Sometimes
it’s
easier to talk to someone you don’t know. Someone that has no investment in your life.”

“Tom wants me to see a
counselor
.
I feel
like all I ever do is cause him trouble
, I mean what do I ever give back?”

“Ahh, sweetheart, I’m sure you give plenty. And if he wants more, then your husband seems like a man who will take charge and let you know.”

She
frowned;
her alcohol buzz had long
died;
now she just felt sick and tired. “I don’t know, sometimes I feel like he holds back.”

“Ahh, sweetheart.” He gathered her close and kissed her forehead. “Talk to him. He will listen. Here, if you ever need someone to talk to, come and see me.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed her a card. “You call me any time you need to talk, okay?”

She clutched the card and nodded.

He started the car. “Now, how about you tell me where your house is?
It’s
well past your bedtime, little one.”

Feeling subdued and thoroughly exhausted, Frankie gave him directions. This was turning into one hell of a night.

Tom waved goodbye to Jeff before striding up the walkway to his house, pulling his suitcase behind him. He quickly unlocked the door. As soon as he was inside, he dropped the case and started striding up the stairs, pushing back the exhaustion weighing him down.

He hadn’t been able to sleep last
night;
his worry over Frankie kept him awake, fearing the worse. He prayed to God he’d find her safe and sound in their bed. Nearly too afraid to look in case he found the room empty, Tom slowly pushed their bedroom door open.

And nearly collapsed in relief.

She was sound asleep, dressed in some atrocious clothes, but she was there.

“Thank you, God,” he whispered, running his hand over his forehead. Part of him wanted to immediately shake her awake, hug her, scold her, spank her. The other part knew he had to get some sleep, get himself under control. He was so tired and furious that he was worried about what he’d say in this state.

As he walked towards her th
e smell of alcohol hit him
,
and he screwed up his nose as he took in her state of dress. She wore a too-small top, her breasts nearly bursting out of the sequined top. A short skirt had ridden right up her legs until he could see her bare ass, the tiny
G-string
doing little to cover her. Normally, he loved those tiny scraps of lingerie she wore, but right now he wondered how many people had seen her butt in that pathetic excuse for a skirt.

Her dark, normally silken hair lay tangled and messy around her head and her mouth was open as she snored softly.

“Obviously someone had a good night while I was worrying myself sick,” he muttered, not
concern
ed about waking her. Frankie was sleeping like the dead.

Taking a deep breath to cool his ire, Tom turned to move towards the attached bathroom. He needed a shower then a long sleep.

As he turned, his attention was caught by a card lying on the floor. Picking it up, he frowned, staring at his wife in surprise.

“Where the hell did you
get this from?”
he asked.
             

One thing was for certain. When his wife woke up, she was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

*****

Frankie groaned as she woke up, her head pounding incessantly, her mouth hellishly dry. She covered her eyes, hoping to hide from the world.

“Finally, she joins the land of the living.”

Her eyes popped open at that statement, her gaze immediately
focusing
in on her husband who was
sitting in his armchair by the window. He stared at her solemnly, his face tired and sad looking.

“Tom? When did you get home?” she asked in shock. Damn, she glanced down at herself, why didn’t she get out of these horrid clothes last night?

Tom glanced at the clock on her dresser. “Oh, about four hours ago.”

“What?” Frankie stared at the clock in shock, realizing it was now two pm. “I-I-”

“You what?” he asked calmly, his voice flat, emotionless.

Something was very, very wrong.

Of course something is wrong, idiot,
she berated herself.
You spent last night drinking and partying, you didn’t answer your husband’s phone call, you fell asleep in these
god awful
clothes, probably smelling like a brewery and you didn’t even wake up when your husband got home.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t awake when you got home,” she said, trying to gauge just how angry he was. His face remained impassive, although she swore she saw his eyes flash. Damn, she wished her head wasn’t trapped in a slowly closing vice.

“Really? Out of all the things you could apol
ogize for that’
s what you’re going to go with?” he asked coolly.

Frankie bit her lip as she sat. She rubbed her head, trying to ease the pain.

Tom rose and walked into the bathroom. He returned with a glass of water. He passed it to her, as well as some painkillers before returning to his seat.

“Thanks,” she murmured, tears welling in her eyes. Had she behaved so horribly that he couldn’t even bring himself to hug her?

“Where were you last night, Frankie?” he asked. “I called you. Heath came around to check up on you. I was awake all night worrying and it seems you were off partying and having a good time.”

She winced
. “I’m so sorry,” she began. “I went out for dinner with some friends from work and one thing sort of led to another and we ended up at a nightclub.
”

“I hope you had a really good time, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “Because that’s the last time you’ll be out partying for a very long time.”

Frankie swallowed heavily. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you are grounded, young lady.
For two weeks.
No meeting with friends, no going out for dinner with them, no talking on the phone or messaging them. No computer. I want you home each night at 5.30pm, understand me?”

Frankie’s jaw dropped. “Grounded? You’re joking right? I’m twenty-
seven
years old.”

“And you’re behaving like a spoiled teenager. Do you realize how terrified I was, Frankie? Wondering where you were? If you were hurt? If someone had attacked you? Raped you? Killed you? What were you thinking? How hard would it have been to answer your phone or hell, send me a text to let me know you were okay?”

Guilt raged as she listened to him scold, still in that awful flat voice, his disappointment in her clear to see.

“I know, you’re right, but—”

“No buts, no excuses. You were already
in trouble for hanging up on me. Then
you blatantly disrespected me and our relationship
again by disappearing without telling me where you were going
.
Without even sending me a simple text so I didn’t worry.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to trust you to be by yourself anymore, Frankie. In fact, I don’t think I can. I can’t leave you, knowing you might foolishly place yourself in harm.”

“I wasn’t harming myself,
” she said tearfully.
“
I was with friends, I was safe.”
She wasn’t sure why she’d done it. Tom
held up a card. She gulped as she realized it was the one that man had given her last night.

“Where did you get this from, Frankie?” he asked, his voice deadly.

She swallowed heavily. “I-I—”

“Think very hard about your answer, because it had better be the truth. You’re already in for a severe punishment on top of being
grounded;
you don’t want to add to it by lying. Now, I suggest you start at the beginning, tell me everything, including where you got those atrocious clothes from.”

Frankie stared at him, realizing he’d never been so serious with her. He’d been angry at her before, but he’d never been like this—so very tight and controlled.

And so Frankie told him everything. Her night out, her borrowed clothes, the nightclub and the ride home.

Tom just stared at her for a long time when she was finished, the right corner of his mouth
twitched;
unfortunately she knew he wasn’t holding back a smile.

“
So
let’s
get this right. You went out for dinner, turning off your phone, something I have forbidden you to do.”

Frankie winced, wanting to argue his use of
the word forbidden, but knew
that was the least of her worries right now.

“And then you went to a nightclub, dressed like a slut, where you got so drunk you didn’t even know where you were, am I right so far?” he asked.

Frankie nodded, opening her mouth to explain, but he held up a hand, stilling her. “Don’t talk, Frankie. Not yet. Just nod or shake your head when I ask a question.”