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“Call me Frankie. I hate being called Francesca. Makes me think I am in trouble.”
“Good to know.”
Did he just chuckle?
“I need proof you are who you say you are.”
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“Ummm…” What was something only he would know? It had to be something good. Before she could come up with a question, Shane started talking again.
“Patrick has a scar an inch above his belly button from falling out of a tree and landing on the handle of his bike when he was twelve. The handle went right into his stomach. Ma yelled for days about how she had wanted to throw away that bike when the plastic handle fell off. Eggs of any kind made him gag. He puts ketchup on everything, even his steak, which is un-fucking-forgivable if you ask me.”
“What’s the name of his car?”
“Macha. It’s a black Ford Mustang that reminded him of his favorite horse. Macha is the goddess of war and horses in Irish mythology.”
That was enough for her.
The scar anyone might know about. His eating habits, probably not as much. The name of his car and where it came from, nah, that wasn’t a well-known fact. She might regret it later, but she opened the door.
Scrubbing his face, he sighed deeply. “Thank you.” She watched him take her in. Realizing it was the first time he would have been able to get a good look at her, she glanced down at herself and groaned.
“I know, I’m a hot mess, but I clean up a little better than this. I’m covered in dirt from working in the garden.”
“I was just thinking you’re beautiful.”
“Me?” Shock filled her features.
He frowned. “I don’t think I like that reaction to my compliment.”
“I… I’ve never been the beautiful sister. I’m the plain sister. The boring sister.”
“I see nothing plain about you.”
Before the conversation could get any more awkward, she remembered what he said.
“You said you’re grieving. Did you lose a man in battle before you came home for the wedding? Oh, the wedding! Did you come to the wrong place?” That would make sense. Did her airhead sister give him the address to their house instead of The Barn? “Everyone is at the brunch. You know how our families are—give them an open bar, good food, and music, and they’ll stay all day.” She laughed. “Ma said you were getting in later today, but I was under the impression you were going straight to The Barn. Perhaps my sister gave you our home address instead of the restaurant?”
He shook his head no. Clearing his throat, his voice was heavy with emotion. “Sweetheart, I have a lot to tell you. Right now, though, I need to get you to safety. Please, will you come with me?”
Will you come with me?
The question was asked gently, but Frankie had a feeling it wasn’t a question at all but an order.
“I don’t suppose you have an ID on you?” she asked hopefully.
“I do.” He frowned at her. “We don’t have time for this. They could be here at any moment.”
“They? They who?” What was he going on about?
Ignoring her question again, he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed it to her. Flipping it open, she saw his military identification, his driver’s license, and several debit and credit cards with his name. Feeling a bit more relieved, even as suspicion still tickled her spine, she decided to go with him.
CHAPTER 3
Shane
Finally.
