Page 41 of In You

Becoming Frank

Caleb

I wake up well before Tamryn and the sun, anxious for my formal general's arrival.

I haven't seen him in person in about five years, and knowing we're about to be under the same roof gives me stress.

But it's the good kind of stress. The kind that lets me know that I'm about to in the presence of someone who fucking knows everything there is to know about anything.

Well, at least it feels like it, anyways.

I remake the guest bed, making sure I can bounce a quarter off the sheet before putting the blanket on and slick my finger across every surface in a fit of OCD.

"You stay outta here," I whisper to Ringo, snapping at him to get out and then close the door behind him. Dogs know how to fuck up a perfectly made bed every time.

As I'm walking down the hallway to head to the kitchen, my phone pings. And by the time I'm done making coffee, it's been constantly pinging. I don't even bother looking at it because I know it's Frank, being nosy.

Another refreshed coffee and an hour later, I hear the gravel as he rambles up the drive.

My anticipation swells as I force myself to sit calmly in the rocking chair, watching the sun kiss the horizon as he rounds the bend through the trees in an army green truck, going slow.

I rock, placing my hand on Ringo's head whose ears perked up at the sound of gravel rustling, making way for the pavement that borders my home.

Tink's stayed inside with Tamryn. She doesn't like to go far from her and her protective nature is cute.

As soon as he parks I'm up, headed to the top of the steps. I smile when the truck door opens, and he jumps out limber, boasting all silver hair, silver eyes, and barely a wrinkle on his face. Fucker looks amazing for a man in his seventies and the kind of life he lives.

He explained one time that the blood lust keeps him young.

"Caleb, why do you have a thousand acres of land, huh?" he calls to me, slamming the truck door shut. "There's no reason for it. You don't have a fucking farm." Leaning against the pillar at the top of the steps, I scoff and smile brightly.

Bringing an arm up, I salute him respectfully. "How do you know I don't, sir?"

He gets an annoyed look on his face, one that I remember very vividly from my time serving, before shaking his head.

"I have a goddamn nose, and I used to run a farm.

Or did you forget?" he chastises me in a stern, fatherly voice, taking his time getting to the top step where I stand.

Frank pulls himself up, straightening his spine, his silver eyes hard on me as he takes a deep breath as they drag down my form slowly.

He clicks his tongue before putting a heavy hand on my shoulder and pulling me in.

"Come here, son. You look good. Tired, but good. "

I heave a deep sigh as I hug Frank back, and we commence to clapping each other's back hard.

When we pull away, I blink away the tears threatening to well up.

His eyes narrow as he catches it, astute and observant as always.

As we pull away and he catches my eye, I settle even more in his presence because Frank stepped into the role of my father, and I have always held him in high esteem.

He steps back, eyeing my wrap around porch and the surrounding trees. "You really meant to isolate yourself, didn't you?"

Yep. He sees me.

I grunt, shrugging a shoulder and then clearing my throat. "It just makes sense. I don't need to be around people."

I ignore his stare that feels like he's trying to suck the soul out of my body through my eyes, and then go to a knee, rubbing my hand down Ringo's coat. "Sir, meet Ringo."

Frank keeps his hands to himself, even when Ringo goes to sniff his fingers. I also remember he wasn't very overly friendly with pets. Not that he doesn't not care for them, it's just that he's sooner to kill an animal for food rather than attach himself to one for companionship.

I clear my throat, rising back to my feet.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice," I say gruffly.

He nods, taking his hat off and then pushing a hand through his thick hair.

"You know if you need me, Caleb, I'll come.

" He rolls his neck and then clicks his tongue on a half-laugh.

"But, even I'll admit that an eleven hour drive is a bit much for this old guy. Next time, you'll have to come to me."

I laugh, clapping him on the back again.

"I woulda come to you, old man. But Tamryn is kinda in a fragile state of mind right now, and I don't know how she'll do out in public just yet.

But we'll come next time. How's the family?

Buckhead Island?" I ask, opening the front door and then gesturing for him to go in first.

"Oh, everyone's doing good. Can't ask for more."

As he walks through the threshold, he hangs his hat and coat on the coat rack like he does it every day.

I can feel him assessing my place, though it doesn't bother me.

I've had the place for about seven years now, spending three years renovating it myself from a run down cabin to the house that it is now.

When I first built it, it was strictly for functionality, but now, I wish I would have thought ahead that maybe it might not be just me here.

Without needing a guide, he finds the kitchen easily and then lowers himself into a chair at the little four seater table.

"You take it black, two sugars, no cream, correct?

" I ask, pouring him a coffee and refreshing my own.

I hand it to him, and he grunts his thanks as I sit down.

The little bell dings from a few feet away, and he tilts his head as he looks at the floor with a slightly disapproving look on his face.

I warm, knowing that if Tink's here, then Tamryn's not far.

The sunlight begins to filter through the window above the sink, making the stainless steel gleam brightly.

I forgot to turn the water off this morning. Oh boy.

"That fucking thing have a purpose?" he asks, eyeing Tink rather hard.

"She's mine," Tamryn says softly, coming into the kitchen behind me.

Turning, I lock eyes with her, lower my coffee cup and then pat my leg. She casts me a shy look as she lingers in the entrance to the kitchen, staring hard at Frank, who just sits there calmly, a hand on his mug and his back against the chair, just watching.

My eyes roam her body, seeing she's in her favorite maroon loungewear complete with the floor length cardigan.

Her curly hair hangs loose down her breasts and arms, and I note with pleasure she's got a little mascara on.

Though I hope she doesn't feel like she needs to put make up on because we have company.

After a long, tense minute, she walks to me and then tries to lean in to give me a little timid, one-armed pat, still staring at Frank, but I jerk her to me, and she falls into my lap, blushing.

"You don't gotta act like that just cause he's here, hun.

Come in here with us, I want you to meet Frank. "

Frank's eyes slide to mine before going to hers, and he just stares silently.

"Sir, this is Camilla," I say soberly.

She rolls her eyes, shifting her weight on my leg before cutting them to me. "It's Tamryn," she breathes in a low voice.

"It's nice to meet you, Tamryn," Frank says with a wink, letting me know his hearing is as sharp as ever.

"Likewise, sir," she says quietly, sliding off my lap. I let her, aware she probably doesn't want to be so handsy in front of someone she doesn't know. I'm not sure how Tamryn is with public displays of affection.

Apparently, I'm all for it. Who knew.

I feel like a kid who gets to bring his girl home for the first time, eager for Frank to tell me what he thinks about her.

I bite back a grin, looking at her with amusement. "Sooo, does that mean we can have bacon this morning then?" I ask quietly, my eyes flickering from hers to her lips, then back again.

We never eat without each other in the morning, and I always wait to see who I'm going to be greeted with before cooking, so I don't dare start anything without her. She nibbles her bottom lip and scoffs shyly, her lips twisting as she looks away.

"Yeah, I'll get some started." She looks at Frank, who's drinking a healthy glug of coffee. "Do you like bacon, sir?"

He grins and then puts his mug down with an amused look. "Little lady, I used to operate a pig's farm once upon a time. Probably before you were even born. I love it, and the thicker the bacon, the better."

She raises her brows, and I almost wonder if Camilla isn't trying to make an appearance to freak out on him about that.

I get up, grabbing eggs, bacon, heavy whipping cream and butter out of the fridge, and I ask Frank a bunch of questions about his new life and family while we whip breakfast together.

Frank only throws a couple questions her way, letting her do most of the leading in the conversation, and I find that Tamryn is quite the witty conversationalist, and very smart.

From the gleam in Frank's eyes, it looks like he might think so too.

When we finish, I place the dishes in the sink and then place a soft kiss on her lips.

"Don't worry about the dishes, okay? I'll do them when I get back in. "

She nods, but I know when Frank and I come back in, this kitchen will be back to being spic and span.

I lead the way out the door, stopping at his truck so he can get his cooler.

"You still eat them things?" I ask.

He nods his head, and we walk in comfortable silence to my shed, our breath billowing white in the chill of the air.

I can't believe she's been here two months already, it feels like just yesterday I brought her home.

Her presence in my house lifts my spirits and completes something within me I hadn't known I was lacking.

If Frank tells me he feels like Alexander does, it might be too heavy of an emotional blow for me to tolerate.