Chapter Twenty-Three Fucking Finally

I woke up when I felt Benny’s hand moving down my belly.

“Baby,” I whispered drowsily.

That was when I felt the tips of his fingers sliding into the edge of my panties, his other hand pushing under me, and his body shifting at my back so he could bury his face in my neck.

When he got it there, he growled, “Quiet, Francesca, and don’t move.”

I felt my vagina convulse at the same time it got wet.

Okay, it can be said that waking up with Benny Bianchi was my favorite part of the day. For a variety of reasons.

One of those reasons became apparent when his middle finger hit my clit at the same time his other hand curled around my breast and his lips slid up my neck. I knew he wasn’t messing around when he put his thumb and finger to my nipple and tugged.

Hard.

This felt so good it made me push my hips into his crotch. Feeling him hard, a whimper slid out of me.

Ben nipped the skin of my neck with his teeth before he said, “Don’t move, baby.”

“I gotta move.”

“Don’t,” he ordered roughly, pressing his cock into my ass.

Oh God. This was hot.

I quit moving. Ben played. He pulled and twisted. He swirled and pressed. He nipped, licked, sucked, kissed. All while I lay there trying not to move.

It wasn’t easy, and with each passing second, I got wetter, more turned on, and it got more difficult.

Finally, it got so difficult, I whispered on a plea, “Benny.”

“What you want?” he asked.

“Your cock, baby.”

“How you want it?”

“Any way you wanna give it to me.”

“Pull your panties down, Frankie.”

I did what he ordered immediately, hooking my thumb into one side of my panties and yanking down. Ben gave me what I needed almost instantly. He thrust inside.

God,” I breathed.

Ben twisted my nipple, circled a finger at my clit, and drove deep.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he groaned into my neck, pounding in hard, fast, rough, so much of all three, my body jolted with each thrust.

“Harder, Benny,” I begged.

Without delay, he rolled into me, taking me to my stomach, still inside. I had to spread my legs wide and my panties stretched to the limit, biting into my thighs in a way I liked. All this so amazing, I felt a tremor rock through my entire body.

Then he yanked my hips up, even as he kept thrusting deep. He reached over me, his hand went into my hair, fisted and tugged back.

God.

Hotter.

“Up, baby,” he demanded.

I pushed up to my hands and he gave my hair another tug so I knew he wanted me up.

I straightened and the minute I was up, he ordered, “Nightie off.”

I moved my hands to the hem of my nightie and pulled it off.

I got my reward immediately as Benny’s hands roamed over my skin.

I knew he was watching his hands move when he muttered into my neck, “Fuckin’ beautiful,” even as he kept taking me.

“Need your finger, honey,” I told him.

“Had you last night, babe. Got it in me for this to last awhile. Don’t want to take you there too soon.”

He might have it in him, but he was driving me the good kind of crazy so I didn’t have it in me.

“I’m already close,” I shared.

He drove in, stayed there, but grinded up.

I liked that, being filled with him, Ben pushing deeper. I liked it so much I moaned.

His hand slid down and covered my sex as his other one glided up my breastbone to wrap light around my throat.

“Could fuck you for hours,” he murmured into my skin.

It was Saturday morning, a weekend. The day after a, thankfully, uneventful Friday, the weekend that might precede work-related Armageddon, and I decided right then on our plans for the day.

“Okay, then do that now.”

“Could fall asleep buried inside you.”

I felt my thighs quiver.

“Wake up, first thing I do before I even open my eyes, start fuckin’ you,” he went on.

My hands went to his wrists and held on as my womb spasmed at his words. I figured he didn’t have to move to take me there, he just had to keep talking to me.

He glided out and slid slowly back in. “Love this pussy.”

Okay, maybe he needed to move.

“Ben, baby.”

His hand trailed from my throat down my body. “Love this body.”

“Please, Benny, fuck me.”

He nipped my earlobe with his teeth, moved his mouth to my ear, and whispered, “Love my baby.”

I did a top-to-toe shiver.

I was wrong. All he had to do was keep talking to me.

“Benny,” I breathed.

“Down, Frankie. I’m gonna give you what you need.”

I bent double, forearms to the mattress, and Ben bent over me. One hand on the bed for added leverage and power, he gave me what I needed.

When I found it, my climax pounding through me as Ben kept pounding inside me, he kept giving it to me until I started to come down. Then he pulled out, dropped to his back, yanked me over him, and caught my eyes.

“Take me there, Frankie.”

I held his gaze as I quickly slid my panties off, lifted up, and straddled him. I wrapped my hand around his cock, guided him inside, and kept hold of his eyes as I rode him fast.

“Want it again?” he asked, watching me move on him, the look on his face lazy but heated.

I loved that look.

But…

Was he crazy?

“Yes,” I gasped on a downward plunge.

He grinned and moved his hand so his thumb was strategically placed. It took a while, but I found it again. Driving down, riding him through my orgasm, my head thrown back, one hand at my belly and the other one cupping a breast, I felt his hands clamp tight around my hips. He yanked me down, held me down, bucked his hips up, groaned, and I knew he found it.

I collapsed on top of him, my hair flying everywhere, I knew, but I didn’t care. Two orgasms first thing in the morning, I didn’t care about anything.

He slid his hands from my hips to wrap his arms around me, one going higher to gather my hair at the side of my neck.

Turning his head, he whispered, “Love you, Francesca Concetti.”

I felt my lips tip up and made the Herculean effort to raise my head and look into his eyes.

It was worth the effort.

Seeing those beautiful eyes happy and satisfied were worth any effort.

“Love you back, Benny Bianchi.”

He kept my hair gathered at my neck, even as he extended a thumb to stroke my jaw and asked, “You want donuts?”

Oh yes, I loved Benny Bianchi.

“Absolutely,” I answered.

He grinned. “Good, babe. Kiss me. Climb off me. We’ll walk Gus and then we’ll go to Hilligoss.”

“Can you walk Gus, then go get donuts while I stay here and make coffee?” I requested, using these words to mean Can you walk Gus, then go get donuts while I stay here, bask in my orgasms, and maybe have a short snooze?

I suspected Benny knew my translation, but he still asked, “You want that?”

“Yeah,” I answered.

“You got it, but I get the kissing part.”

I smiled at him because I got to kiss him, and also because he was Benny. He was awesome. And he was demonstrating his awesomeness this time by giving me my way, hauling himself out of bed, taking care of our dog, and getting donuts while I got to be lazy.

I was bending my head to give him the kissing part when my phone on the nightstand started ringing.

I turned my head that way as Ben ordered, “Ignore it.”

Since I liked that idea better, I did as ordered.

Mid-kiss, my phone stopped ringing. Then Ben took over the kiss and it became a make out session, where I found myself on my back with Benny mostly on me. This lasted a happy while until my phone rang again.

Ben broke the kiss, and this time, it was him that looked to my phone.

“Ignore it,” I repeated his order.

He looked down at me. “Two calls in five minutes on a Saturday morning?”

“I’m indisposed,” I replied. “That being I’ve got panty marks around my thighs. My panties are fubarred since they were stretched so tight, the elastic is probably broken. You’re leaking out of me. And you have our dog to walk and powdered sugar, chocolate-cream-filled donuts, three of them at least, to go out and buy for me. All that being the definition of indisposed.

My phone stopped ringing as Benny’s brows rose, his eyes lighting with humor, giving me that, and fulfilling promise-part-three of the day and we hadn’t even been awake an hour.

He did all this asking, “Fubarred?”

“Fucked up beyond recognition,” I explained.

“I know what it means, honey,” he replied. “I just didn’t know anyone outside Tango and Cash said it.”

I felt my eyes get squinty. “Don’t make fun of me when I’m post-orgasm. I’m happy-drained when I’m post-orgasm and I don’t have any good fight in me.”

Ben grinned. “You should never have given me that, baby. Knowin’ that shit, from now on, I’m totally fuckin’ with you post-orgasm.”

My eyes got squintier before I informed him of something he should know by now, “I recover quickly.”

His hand glided over my hip, back, and in to cup my ass as his face got closer to mine. “Bet I can set you back.”

He so totally could.

“Gus? Donuts?” I prompted.

“Is your detail on which donuts you want me to buy your order?” he asked.

“Yep,” I answered.

“They run out of those quick, Frankie.”

“Wait for them to make more.”

He didn’t grin that time. He smiled.

Then he said, “I might be pussy-whipped, honey, but I’m not that far gone.”

I felt my brows shoot up. “You’re pussy-whipped?”

“Babe, I’m makin’ deals with Sal, away from my home, my restaurant, watchin’ your ass while you go about something undoubtedly worthwhile but makes me all kinds of uneasy, and you’re surprised I’m pussy-whipped?”

He had a point, and although his words gave me a heady feeling of power, they also bothered me.

So I wrapped my arms around him and reminded him, “We’re doin’ this with Wyler because it’s the right thing to do.”

“We are. We’re also doin’ it because I like to fuck you, eat you, and watch you ride me, and I can get all that, and often, I keep you happy.”

Suddenly, I didn’t feel bothered.

I felt annoyed.

“That’s it?”

“There’s also the fact I like lookin’ at you, seein’ you smile, and doin’ what I can to make you happy. It’s insane, but I’ve learned to own the insanity because you’re you. You’re crazy. Fearless. Willin’ to put yourself out there doin’ something you know is dangerous because it’s the right thing to do. And I love all of you. The insane part is that I love all of you, including that.”

I screwed up my face and declared, “You’re being sweet again when I’m annoyed.”

He lowered his lips to mine, eyes still smiling. “You gotta learn to get over it, baby. It’s gonna happen a lot.”

I got over it right then because I had the happy feeling he was going to kiss me again, but he didn’t because my phone rang.

This time, we both turned our heads to it.

“Fuck,” Ben muttered, reaching across the bed and tagging it. He looked to the display, then to me, his face unreadable when he said, “Cat.”

That could mean anything from the happy news she was carrying Art’s baby to the news that she fell off the wagon, got arrested for doing something stupid, and needed someone to bail her out.

Ben knew this and that was why his face was unreadable.

I slid my phone from his hand and took the call.

When I had the cell at my ear, I said, “Love you, but you’re delaying donuts.”

“Frankie,” she whispered.

Oh God.

At the tone of her voice, my eyes flew to Benny as I pushed up to sitting. He rolled off to let me do that, and I didn’t tear my eyes away from him as I sat on a hip, pulling the covers to my chest and holding the phone tight to my ear.

“What?” I asked.

There was a moment of silence before she said, “Okay, last night was a bad night.”

Hoping her bad night did not include downing shots of vodka and committing felonies, my hand snaked out and pressed into Ben’s chest. The second it did, he sat up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his warmth, trapping my hand between us.

“What?” I whispered, my eyes now to Ben’s throat.

“Okay, the, um…slightly-better-but-still-bad news first.”

Slightly better but still bad?

“Cat…”

“Davey found out that Nat was cheating on him again. They fought…really bad, Frankie. Really bad. He said he was done, and I guess he did it in a way where he meant it this time because she lost it. Started beating on him. He hit her back. She called the cops. He’s all messed up. Even has a concussion ’cause she hit him in the head with a plate or something. He took a lot from her, Frankie, before he lost it. He hit her once to get her off him, but he’s the one in jail.”

I closed my eyes.

“He didn’t press charges,” she continued, “but she did. His mom called me. That’s how I know all this. She’s pissed, Frankie. She knows Davey’s been eatin’ shit for years and she’s seriously pissed. And making matters worse, Ma’s there.”

Oh no.

I opened my eyes, saw Benny’s face, and for the first time in a long time, seeing it didn’t soothe me.

“She was out carousin’, not there for the fight, got there after the police got there. She texted me a few days ago, said I was dead to her because I wasn’t pickin’ up her calls to help her in her hour of need. Guess that’s why she’s with Nat and Davey. But according to Davey’s mom, she’s all up in his and Nat’s shit, talkin’ smack about Davey. Davey’s mom wants the charges dropped and Nat and Ninette outta the house, and she wants that yesterday.”

“Cat, I—” I started, but she cut me off, talking quietly.

“I can’t get dragged into this, Frankie. I’m late.”

My heart thumped and she kept talking.

“Just a couple of days, but I’m always regular. Art and me were gonna spend our Saturday getting a pregnancy test and hopefully celebrating. All this…” She stopped speaking and I actually heard her take in a huge breath before she went on, “And there’s more that happened last night so all I wanna do is skip the pregnancy test and get a bottle of vodka.”

Shit.

No.

“Don’t do that, honey,” I urged.

“I know, but it’s hard.”

“Get the pregnancy test,” I said, then took my own deep breath and finished, “I’ll call Nat.”

Ben’s arms tightening around me brought my eyes to his face. He was worried. But hearing Nat’s name, he was already pissed.

I shook my head.

He shook his back.

“I haven’t told you the more,” Cat said in my ear.

Goddammit.

I looked to Ben’s ear and invited, “Sock it to me.”

“Chrissy kicked Dad out last night.”

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “He called me, looking for a place to crash. I kept my boundaries and he lost it on me, you know, like Dad can do when he doesn’t get his way made easy for him.”

“Yeah, I know how Dad can do that,” I agreed because I so totally did.

“He said all his kids but Enzo were pains in his ass and he never wanted to hear from me again. Then he said he was goin’ to Enzo.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed into the phone. Just the thought of Enzo Uno and Due together and the havoc they could wreak made my blood pressure spike.

“Yeah. Just uppin’ stakes, leaving Chrissy with a new baby, and heading to where Enzo is fuckin’ up his own life and all the lives of the people in it.”

This was not good, but I was confused.

“How is Nat’s deal slightly better bad news than Dad’s?”

“Well, ’cause Dad told me Chrissy was fucked since she didn’t work and he was shot of her. Didn’t need her shit. She may have kicked him out, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t livin’ in his house. He says he’s puttin’ it on the market so that means Chrissy is jobless, soon to be homeless, and has our new baby sister.”

God. My dad.

“Did Dad say anything about Minnie?” I asked.

“Not a word.”

Fucking Dad.

I looked from Ben’s ear into his eyes and told Cat, “All right, leave it to me.”

Ben went from looking slightly worried and slightly pissed to looking mostly pissed as he clipped, “Jesus, Frankie.”

“What are you gonna do?” Cat asked me.

“I have no clue, but I’ll figure out something.”

“Sal Giglia owe you a marker?” she queried.

Not hardly.

“No,” I answered.

“Too bad. I figure he has the skills to put the fear of God into anybody, even Nat, Ma, and Dad.”

She was probably right.

Still, I wasn’t going to sic Sal on my family. Not because they didn’t deserve it. Because Benny and I already had him coming to our wedding. We didn’t need him forcing us to let him pay for it and giving me away.

“Go get your pregnancy test. No vodka. And call me back after you get done celebrating.”

“Frankie, you always eat this shit and—”

“Go,” I said quietly but firmly. “You need to focus on what’s important, Cat, and their shit isn’t important. Your husband, your marriage, you building a family is important. Get that pregnancy test. I’ll send good vibes your way.”

She said nothing for long moments. Then she said, “Right. I’ll let you give me that, but only in a way that you’re up first. I’ll do my thing with the test and Art. Then you call me in if you need me, Frankie.”

“You’re on the right path,” I reminded her. “Stay on it.”

“These people are fucked up and they drive me crazy. But they’re my family, too, Frankie. You’ve spent three and a half decades sorting their shit. Now it’s my turn to kick in.”

I felt those words, all of them, so deep and so warm and so welcome, I closed my eyes again and turned my head.

Ben lifted a hand and curled it around the side of my neck, so I opened my eyes and looked back at him.

Not pissed anymore, or at least not totally. Back to slightly worried.

I shook my head and gave him a small smile.

This didn’t change his expression in the slightest.

“We got a plan?” Cat prompted in my ear.

“This doesn’t sort out soon and you can’t hack it, you back off. If you agree to that,” I told her, “then we have a plan.”

She hesitated only a second before she said, “We got a plan.”

“Good,” I replied businesslike. “Now, call me later with good news.”

“I hope I can, Frankie.”

“I hope so too, honey.”

“Don’t let them make you eat more shit than you’re already gonna eat,” she ordered.

“I probably would,” I returned, still looking in Benny’s eyes. “But Ben won’t let me.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” she muttered, and that made me grin. “Later, Frankie.”

“Later, Cat.”

We disconnected and I barely hit the button on my phone when Ben practically barked, “What?”

I reached to the nightie laying half on, half draped off the bed, saying, “Concetti drama.”

“You don’t got enough drama goin’ on right now?” he asked, making an excellent point.

He let me go so I could pull the nightie on and I looked back to him. “Benny—”

He shook his head. “Get outta bed. Clean up. Put on clothes. Fill me in while we walk Gus. Then your ass is in my truck so we can get donuts. We’re doin’ what we wanna do with our Saturday morning. After I get a donut in my baby, then those whackjobs you call a family can try to take their piece of you.”

“But, Ben—”

Try,” he cut me off to say with emphasis. “I’m close while you talk to their asses, and if I get a fuckin’ hint they’re slicin’ into you, I take over.”

I stared at him.

Fucking finally.

Cat was right.

She was so right.

That was why I gave in, saying, “Okay, baby. Now, let’s go take care of Gus.”

I saw surprise start to slide through Benny’s expression, but I didn’t stop to watch the whole show. Gus needed out of the kennel. I needed to give him a cuddle. I also needed donuts. I further needed my man to have donuts.

Only then would I deal with my family while I had someone at my back.

Fucking finally.

***

I had three donuts in my belly, only two that were powdered sugar, chocolate-cream-filled.

Ben was right. They ran out of those quickly and we got the last three. I loved my man so I sacrificed one for him. The third donut in my belly was a cinnamon twist, but I ate it first.

I was staring at my phone in my hand resting on the counter. I did this until I saw Benny slide a fresh cup of coffee on the counter beside my hand. This meant I did it the whole time he was topping off our cups.

I turned my head and lifted my eyes to his.

“I have no clue what to do,” I told him.

He finished taking a sip of coffee and replied, “Not surprised.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope.”

I guessed he wouldn’t be. There was so much to it, it was like a mountain that needed to be climbed without rope or those spiky things on your shoes.

“I don’t only have no clue what to do, I don’t even know where to start,” I shared.

Ben leaned a hip against the counter. “Not surprised about that either.”

“What would you do?” I asked.

“That’s the reason I’m not surprised,” he answered. “’Cause what I’d do is let them deal with their own shit. They made their beds, they can lie in them.”

I shook my head and protested, “But Davey just fell in love with my sister and got a shitload of problems in return.”

“And how is that him not makin’ his bed?”

I blinked.

Benny kept talking.

“If she pulled one over on him when they first got hooked up, I could get that. But he’s taken her ass back repeatedly after she let other guys tap it. That’s his decision. He needed to man up about five years ago. He didn’t. Now he’s in custody because he’s got no balls. That’s his problem. What I don’t get is why you or Cat would make it yours.”

“He’s family and he’s a nice guy,” I explained.

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy, but he’s a weak man,” Ben returned. “The second part of that is not on you. It’s on him. Their relationship has been cruisin’ toward disaster in one form or another since they got together. Frankly, I’m relieved that when it blew up, it did it this way rather than takin’ other people down with it.”

“But he’s been arrested!” I snapped.

Ben leaned into me. “Not. Your. Problem.”

“Do you think it’s that simple?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he answered.

“Then what about Chrissy and Domino?” I pushed.

He leaned back. “Babe, she hooked her star to a man old enough to be her father.”

“That’s judgmental,” I informed him sharply, and his brows drew together.

“How?”

“You can’t control who you fall in love with.”

“Nope,” he stated. “And love may be blind, but anybody’s gotta guard against bein’ stupid. He had one marriage decades ago, a string of women in between that didn’t work, children he barely saw, and when he did, they fought like teenagers and got their asses kicked out. If she didn’t see all the writing on that wall, again, that isn’t your problem.”

“A baby is mixed up in that, Ben,” I reminded him.

“Yeah. And she let a man his age with his history knock her up. Again, not your problem.”

I put my phone on the counter and my hands on my hips. “That baby is my sister.”

He held my eyes a moment before he muttered, “That might be our problem.”

“Right,” I hissed.

“Though,” he went on, “I haven’t seen you showin’ me picture after picture she texted you of your new sister, and I haven’t heard you talk about all the invitations to get to know her that you couldn’t accept ’cause you live too far away.”

“I have a feeling Chrissy might have been more involved with bein’ a new mom and dealin’ with my dad,” I returned sarcastically.

“I figure your feelin’ is right. Still. Doesn’t cancel out what I said,” he retorted.

“Every human being has to have compassion and try to be understanding, and that goes double for people who share your blood,” I shot back.

Suddenly, I had Benny’s hand curled around the side of my neck. He used it to pull me toward him as he dipped his head down so his face was close to mine.

“And that’s why I love you so fuckin’ much,” he declared, and when he did and the way he did, his voice not deep and easy but rough with feeling, I felt my breath catch.

He wasn’t done.

“Not because you’re crazy-beautiful. Not because you’re fuckin’ great in bed. Not because I like the way you dress, do your hair, turn yourself out to go walk the dog like most women would to go to a club. Not because you make me laugh and you don’t take my shit. Not because you wanna organize my office and can make even tuna casserole taste spectacular. Because of all that and the fact you give a shit about everybody. Even people who don’t deserve it. You give enough of a shit that you put yourself out there for them. You feel deep. You give everything you got. And the best part of all that, you got a lot to give and you give most of it to me.”

I stared into his eyes that were burning into mine, feeling his words burrow into me, digging deep, planting themselves inside in a way that I knew I’d not only remember them forever, I’d remember how I felt right that moment for the rest of my life.

“So, you gotta wade into this shit,” he continued, “do it. It’s gonna piss you off and that’s gonna piss me off, but I’m here for you to rant at and I’m here to make the decision when you’re done takin’ their shit. So, babe, you gotta wade in, make your first call. My advice: Chrissy. Nat and Davey are adults and should know by now how to sort their own shit or wallow in it. Chrissy’s got a new baby and she’s probably freaked.”

I didn’t nod, lift my phone, and call Chrissy.

I asked, “Do you know why I love you?”

The intensity of his eyes changed. It didn’t fade, it kept burning strong, just the emotion behind it shifted.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Because I’m awesome.”

“No,” I whispered. “Because you’re everything a man should be.”

His fingers at my neck gripped tighter as his lips murmured, “Jesus.”

“For the first time in my life, the words ‘I love you’ aren’t strong enough,” I told him.

He pulled me an inch closer and ordered, “Stop talking, Frankie.”

I didn’t stop talking. He needed to hear what I had to say.

No.

He deserved to hear it.

“You saved me. Not just when I got shot. When I got shot and you carried me out of there and got me to a place where they could fix me and then you didn’t give up on me. Instead, you gave me family. You showed me it was okay to be me. You gave me you. You gave me everything.

“Shut it, Frankie.”

“I lost your brother and it broke me. If I ever lost you, I wouldn’t be able to go on.”

I heard Benny’s coffee mug hit the counter before he lifted his other hand, put it to my neck, and slid both back and into my hair as he tilted his forehead to rest on mine, his eyes now scorching with a depth of feeling he let me read.

Then he said, “Francesca, do not say that shit.”

I ignored him and kept going. “I’d breathe. I’d eat. I might one day laugh again. But I wouldn’t be living. There is no life for me without you.”

He was done telling me to shut it and I knew this when his head slanted, his fingers dug into my scalp, and his mouth landed hard on mine. His lips opened, mine did the same, his tongue thrust inside, and I wrapped my arms tight around him, pressing close, tipping my head back to give him more. To give him everything. To use that kiss to show him every word I said was true. To make him feel it. Believe it. All in a way he’d never forget it.

Because he deserved that too.

It took a long time for me to do this, which meant we made out in my kitchen until Gus attacked the wraparound tie strap dangling from my high-heeled sandals. Unfortunately, he did this in a way I couldn’t ignore, mostly because his puppy teeth started digging into the flesh of my ankle.

I still held on after I broke the kiss and looked down at our dog. The cute puppy Benny gave me for my birthday, who would grow up to be a sweet dog we would walk and pet and cuddle, who would give us love, and who would probably let our kids play with him, even if it drove him crazy.

That was when I felt the tears start to wet my eyes.

The promise of Benny. Every day. Everywhere. It was always with me.

I lifted and shook my foot, saying softly, “No, baby.”

Gus didn’t give up until I bent my leg back to get my strap out of reach. At that, he collapsed on his ass, and panting, looked up at me.

“Shoes are off-limits,” I told him, and as I did, Ben’s hands slid out of my hair and down my back so he could wrap his arms around me.

Gus panted some more, then got up and waddled toward the rug I had in front of the sink. He latched on with his teeth, and jerking his head side to side, growling at it, he dragged it out of the kitchen.

“Babe,” Ben called. I took in a deep breath to control the tears and looked up at him.

God, he was beautiful.

My Benny.

He took one arm from around me so he could cup my jaw in his hand.

“I’ll save the rug,” he offered. “You call Chrissy.”

I nodded.

He didn’t move.

Neither did I.

“You good?” he finally asked.

“I’m the best I’ve ever been,” I answered.

His fingers curled deeper into my skin before he demanded, “Stop bein’ so sweet. You don’t, I’ll have to fuck you on the kitchen floor and then we’ll have to go out and buy a new rug.”

“I’m done with that rug,” I told him. Then to take us out of the sweet and heavy because we both needed that, I kept the information flowing, “I’m also done with your kitchen rug. When I move in, we’re gettin’ all new kitchen stuff—towels, rugs, potholders. That is, after you paint it butter yellow and put in new tile. Backsplashes and floor.”

His hand relaxed, as did his expression, and his lips tipped up. “I’m doin’ all that?”

“You have linoleum,” I reminded him.

“You got a problem with linoleum?”

Was he crazy?

“Uh…yeah.”

His lip tip turned into a grin. “Then my baby gets new tile. But even if that rug is bein’ retired, Gus doesn’t need to do that by eatin’ it.”

I nodded my head and remarked, “We have enough on our plate that a trip to the vet would tip us over the edge.”

“Yeah,” Benny agreed.

I gave him a squeeze. “Okay, you get Gus. I’ll call Chrissy.”

He nodded before he dipped his head, and I held my breath at the exquisite feeling of Benny skimming the tip of my nose with his before he returned my squeeze and let me go.

I decided to take a fortifying sip of coffee before calling Chrissy. This also afforded me the opportunity to watch Ben walk out of the kitchen. Then I leaned over the counter to watch him get in a tug-of-war with Gus over the rug.

Ben won.

Although not surprising, Gus felt the consolation prize was attacking the hems of Benny’s jeans as he walked back into the kitchen with my rug. This was cute. It was cuter when Ben bent over, grabbed Gus, brought him up, and held him, doggie nose to hot guy nose.

“No rugs. No jeans. You got chew toys, bud,” he told the dog, then finished with, “Let’s go get one.”

He then tucked the puppy under his arm and sauntered out. I watched Ben’s ass move, alternately watching Gus’s booty swaying with his wagging tail, and I watched this until they disappeared down the hall.

It was a good show and a nice reprieve.

But I was me.

I could delay no further. I had loved ones to sort out.

So I put my cup down, grabbed my phone, and found Chrissy’s number.

***

“Thought I was dead to you.”

This was Nat’s greeting.

Obviously, I was on my second call.

Shockingly, the first one went great.

Dad was done with Chrissy probably only because Chrissy was done with Dad.

And during the call, she had declared, “He’ll sell this house before I move out and get situated over my dead body.”

I took this to mean he’d sell it over his dead body, because if he tried that shit, she’d kill him.

I was learning that Chrissy was no pushover. She was smart, and even if she fell in love with the wrong guy, she was a new mom who doted on her baby, thus, she had her priorities straight.

“Anyway, Frankie, I do hair. It’s not hard to find a job doin’ hair,” she’d told me. “And my clients are all dyin’ to have me back. I mean, I didn’t wanna go back to work so soon but…whatever. And my mom will watch Eva. Mom wasn’t a big fan of Enzo’s, but she adores Eva. It’s cool you called to check in, but it’ll all be okay.”

Eva, by the way, was Domino. Dad had gotten to the birth certificate first and named her the name he wanted. A name Chrissy had told him, in a way she told me could not be misconstrued, that there was no way in hell she was naming her daughter Domino.

This was not the beginning of the end of them, but it definitely (and not surprisingly) was a factor.

My baby sister’s middle name was Eva, which was what Chrissy called her and wanted everyone else to call her.

Eva was very pretty, but weirdly, I’d become partial to Minnie.

I didn’t tell Chrissy this.

I just silently marveled at her togetherness as I told her I was there for her as best I could be while I lived in the ’burg, but I’d be around more to help out when I was back in Chicago.

She’d thanked me, told me to come around and meet Eva when I was home again, and promised to send me pictures of my new sister. After we hung up, she made good on that promise in about a nanosecond by texting me fifteen of them.

Fifteen.

Eva was adorable.

Even Benny thought so.

The easy one down, the hard one to go.

And at my sister’s greeting, I realized I should have fortified myself with another donut (or two) before I got to the hard stuff.

“Nat—” I began but was cut off.

“Got enough shit swirlin’ around me, don’t need yours.”

“Please, listen to me.”

“He hit me,” she snapped.

I had to admit, I didn’t like this, even as I had to admit in knowing Nat that she probably gave him no choice.

Needing a dose of him, I looked across the counter to where Benny was lounging on the couch, feet up on my coffee table, TV on, and tuned to a game, but his eyes were on me.

And this time, I felt soothed.

“Cat told me you clocked him with a plate,” I said to Nat.

“It wasn’t a plate. It was a vase. And he deserved that shit.”

God. My sister.

I shook my head and looked down to the counter, asking, “He deserved that because you cheated on him and he’s finally done with you?”

“Okay, which part of me not needin’ your shit did you not understand?” she asked sharply.

“Has it occurred to you you’re cuttin’ me off from discussin’ this with you because you don’t want me holdin’ that mirror up to your face?”

“And what is it, oh wise Frankie, that you think you’re gonna make me see?” she returned snottily.

I was used to Nat’s snotty and I’d learned to ignore it, give it back, or get in there another way.

This was important enough for me to find another way.

So when I replied, I did it quietly.

“The image of a woman who’s in love with a man she’s done wrong.”

Nat said nothing.

I kept going.

“Davey’s a good man and he loves you. He does not deserve this, Nat. And as fucked up as it was how we were brought up, I know deep down somewhere inside you, you know at least that.”

“So he can hit me?” she asked.

“Did he haul off and do that to hurt you, or did he do it because he had no choice?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, if you live in black-and-white, no. It doesn’t matter. But if you hit him in the head with a vase and gave him a concussion, then didn’t let up on him and you’d lost it like I know you can lose it so he did it in self-defense, that’s pretty gray. So, no. He can’t hit you. But if you’re whalin’ on him and he’s got no choice but to take it and further damage or get physical to get you off him, it sucks to say it, but he can.”

My sister had no reply.

So I pushed, “Did he have a choice?”

She remained silent.

“Natalia, did he have a choice?”

“I never thought Davey would hit me.”

I went still at her words and the way she said them. All but my head, which I lifted, my eyes flying to Benny, who was still watching me.

I could tell by her voice that she was hurt, probably not physically, but emotionally.

Nat didn’t show a lot of emotion. She was Ninette times a thousand. The only thing she wanted was whatever she wanted and nothing dragging on that. That didn’t mean she didn’t have emotion. It just meant she’d learned a long time ago not to show it.

I felt for my sister. This was her consequence for being selfish and stupid, but I knew she loved Davey in her way. And being Nat, tied up in herself and only that, it would take a miracle to get her to see beyond that and to her part in this fucked-up scenario.

I had to force my lips to move when I said, “Nat, honey, please, please, listen. Cat and Art have cleaned up. They’ve been sober for a long time. They’ve been workin’ with a marriage counselor to get strong before they make a baby. I have Benny and I’m happy. He’s good to me and he’s good for me. I learned not to look for Dad, and Cat learned not to act like Mom. We’re both happy. Now you need to learn from that. Sort yourself out. This is not okay what you’ve been doin’ to Davey. And this is really not okay, what happened with Davey last night.”

“No matter what you say, Frankie, there’s no excuse for your man hittin’ you.”

“Is there one for a man’s woman hittin’ him?” I shot back.

She didn’t reply.

“Okay, I know you know the answer to that is a big fat no. So now, tell me this: Is it okay for a man’s wife to keep fuckin’ around on him?” I asked.

“This is you givin’ me shit, Frankie,” she returned.

“This is shit you need, Nat,” I replied.

“No, ’cause see, I got his fuckin’ mother up in my shit and Ninette’s up in her shit and the phone won’t stop fuckin’ ringin’. I gotta work tonight and I don’t need more hassle. You’re hassle. So you’re wrong. I don’t need your shit because my life is pretty fuckin’ shit right now and I’m not lettin’ you make it more.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the dead I got over the phone couldn’t be anything other than her hanging up on me.

Still, I called, “Nat?” But I got nothing.

I closed my eyes, took the phone from my ear, and saw the call had ended.

I looked back at Benny. “She hung up on me.”

“The wrong answer to say is ‘good,’ but that’s the only one I got, babe.”

“I don’t know what to do next,” I told him.

“Nothin’,” he told me. “You tried. You gave her good wisdom, Francesca. The shit you said was right on the money. She didn’t listen. You did what you could do, but she wants to wallow in her shit. The hard part starts for you now ’cause you gotta let her.”

“Ninette is livin’ with her and that’s not gonna make anything better,” I reminded him.

“Another consequence. She let her ma in, she deals.”

“Maybe I should call Ma and—”

Benny interrupted me, clipping out, “Do not even think about it.”

I shut my mouth. Apparently, Ninette was where Benny drew the line at my family “slicin’ into me.”

“Come here,” he ordered.

“I need a donut.”

“Right. Get you one. Get me one. Then get your ass over here.”

I was standing in the kitchen in my heels, something I’d been doing awhile so I needed a break. This was the only reason I didn’t give him lip. Instead, I grabbed the baker’s box and walked into the living room.

Ben took the box from me, tossed it on the coffee table, and Gus honed in on it immediately. Fortunately, he was too tiny and klutzy to jump up and get a donut (or the whole box). Unfortunately, he didn’t give up. I didn’t want him to hurt himself so I leaned over Benny’s legs to grab hold of him.

I got my hands on Gus just as Ben got his hands on me. I pulled Gus to my chest. Benny pulled my ass onto his lap.

Gus licked my jaw, then threw himself at Benny.

Ben took hold of the dog in one arm, kept hold of his woman in the other, and caught my eyes.

“Chrissy and Eva are okay. Your little sister doesn’t have a ridiculous name, icing on the cake. Your other sister is a whackjob, no surprise. So, with Eva bein’ called Eva, you’re not battin’ five hundred in this mess. I’m thinking seven fifty. Not bad.”

I lifted a hand to scratch Gus’s booty and settled further in Benny’s lap, noting, “Eva being Eva is definitely a silver lining.”

Gus threw himself on the couch, then plopped side-first into a toss pillow and started cleaning himself. Benny wrapped both arms around me and drew me nearer.

“You gonna call your dad?” he asked.

“And say what? You’re a douchebag?” I asked back.

Ben smiled.

I shook my head and gave him the real answer, “No. I have nothing to say to him, and even if I did, he’s less prone to listen to me than Nat was. Doesn’t matter anyway. Chrissy’s a fighter. If he doesn’t do right by Eva financially, she’ll see he does.”

His arms gave me a squeeze. “That’s my Frankie.”

I had no reply because I was his Frankie, and anyway, I was enjoying his words and his arm squeeze enough it took all my attention.

“So, you’re done dealin’ with your whackjob family?” he asked.

I grinned. “I’m done dealin’ with my whackjob family…” I paused, then finished on a warning he already knew, “Today.”

That got another smile from Benny, before, “Right. Next up, choices: watch the game or make out on the couch, then watch the game.”

No choice, really.

I got closer, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Make out on the couch, then watch the game.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth and he muttered, “I like the way you think.”

It was my turn to smile.

Ben slid a hand up in my hair and pulled my mouth to his.

Then he twisted and moved so my back was to the couch, he was on me, and his tongue was in my mouth.

I heard my phone start ringing.

Neither of us broke the kiss. We both ignored it.

Some time later, after making out and then watching the game, I went into the kitchen to make my man and myself a sandwich for lunch.

Before doing this, I checked my voicemail.

When I did, I learned the joyous news that my sister was having a baby.

Fucking finally.

I brought our sandwiches into the living room and enjoyed Ben’s grin when I hauled out seven bags of chips, along with some beers and a jar of pickles. Then I called Cat to celebrate and give her the lowdown on the whackjobs in our family. I then told her I was done, she wasn’t wading in, and from here on out, they had to sort their own shit.

Her response:

“Fucking finally.”



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