The Promise
Page 59
She looked into his eyes and smiled that smile he liked so fucking much.
But this time, she did have a secret.
A secret she wasn’t keeping.
He knew this when she replied, “No, seein’ as I can’t drink for a while ’cause I’m carrying your baby.”
Benny went still.
She kept talking.
“When you see the waiter, can you order me a virgin Bellini, baby?”
Benny didn’t answer.
“Benny?” she called.
He didn’t move or speak. He just sat frozen in his chair, staring at his Frankie.
“Honey,” she whispered.
“Get over here right now,” he growled.
For once, his wife didn’t give him lip. She got up, rounded the table, he pushed back, and she sat right in his lap and tipped her face to his so he could take her mouth.
When he was done, he held her eyes but moved a hand to her flat belly where she was nurturing their baby.
Fuck.
Frankie.
“Happy?” she whispered.
“Absolutely.”
She skimmed her nose against the tip of his before she said quietly, “Love you, Benny Bianchi.”
Jesus, so fucking sweet.
“Love you too, Frankie Bianchi.”
He watched her eyes smile, felt her touch her lips to his, then she slid off his lap.
He was wiping her lip gloss from his mouth when he caught sight of Elena at the hostess station, smiling at them.
Having his own place, a place where people went to have good times, he knew that feeling. He knew it was why, generation after generation, you kept that close, worked your ass off to make it thrive—so you could give it to your family.
But she got the better parts and they came often. People coming to her restaurant for reasons just like this—to share the most important moments of their lives.
He lifted his chin to her, then looked back at his pregnant wife.
Ten minutes ago, she was crazy-beautiful.
Right then, right there, sitting across from him, carrying his baby, Benny knew without a doubt there was nothing in his life he could see or feel that would be more beautiful.
He would be wrong.
* * * * *
Ben slid his hand down Frankie’s side, in, and cupped her bare ass. He pulled her up so she could take his cock deeper, and when she did, he felt her breath go heavy at his ear.
“Like that, baby?” he whispered in hers, thrusting slow, but firm and deep.
“Yes, Benny.”
“You want more, all you gotta do is tell me.”
She squeezed the leg she had wrapped around his thigh tighter, trailed her fingers up his spine, and glided her other hand through his hair as she took his cock again and said on a soft breath, “I know, honey.”
Benny smelled his wife, felt her hair on his cheek, her wet pussy clutch his cock, and listened to the noises she was making, even as he heard through the opened window the sounds of the surf pounding against the shore and his son and daughter shouting and giggling as they played in the sand with their grandparents.
And he had it again.
A moment in his life where he was in no doubt there would ever be another more beautiful.
This time, though, even as he experienced it and had no doubts about it, he still knew he would be proved wrong.
* * * * *
Ben walked into the huge-ass kitchen of the huge-ass house he’d bought for his family six years ago when Frankie popped out his second son and his third baby.
When he did, he stopped dead when he saw Frankie in her business suit and heels, standing with a pen in one hand, cell to her ear in the other, writing something on the calendar, saying into the phone, “Yeah. We can do that. We’re free.” She was silent a moment before she said, “Cool. What do you need us to bring?”
He heard her laugh and even a sound he liked hearing no matter how much he heard it, and he heard it a lot, didn’t take him out of his freeze.
“We can do that. Totally. See you then.” A pause before, “Yeah. You too. Later, Vi.”
She disconnected, looked to him, and smiled.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, cara,” he said quietly, her smile and greeting finally pulling him out of the freeze.
“Vi and Cal are havin’ a barbeque. We’re goin’ down. Two weeks.”
“She pregnant again?” he asked, and that got him another smile.
“No.”
He went to the coffeepot asking, “You pregnant again?”
“Not that I know of.”
He poured himself a cup, muttering, “Just checking.”
“I have a meeting so you have to pick Alessandra up from dance. And there are birthday cards on the counter.” She tipped her head that way. “The kids have signed them and they’re stamped and addressed. Could you sign them and get them in the mail today?”
He turned, leaned hips against the counter, and replied, “Got it covered,” before taking a sip of coffee.
Her eyes went to the ceiling. “Are they tearin’ shit up?”
“Probably.”
“They gotta get ready for school.”
“Seein’ as that happens every day and I take them there, I know that, Frankie.”
She tilted her head to the side. “You’re standin’ there enjoyin’ a cup of coffee, Benny.”
“It looks like I’m enjoyin’ a cup of coffee. What I’m really doin’ is a favor to the teachers, lettin’ our hellions get some of their energy out before I drop ’em at school. That means they’ll wreak havoc here and only ’cause mayhem there.”
“Oh, that’s what you’re doin’,” she muttered, her lips curving.
He watched her lips before he looked into her eyes and ordered, “Stop bustin’ my chops, give me a kiss, and go to work.”
Those eyes got squinty. “Stop bein’ bossy.”
He grinned at her.
Her eyes got squintier.
“Come here, baby,” he demanded quietly.
She rolled her eyes and came there.
He pulled her into his arms, put his mouth to hers, hers opened, and like always, Ben didn’t waste the opportunity. He drank deep.
When he lifted his head, she said softly, “Remember, we’re comin’ to the pizzeria for dinner.”
The best nights at work, when Frankie hauled their crew to the restaurant. They always started at a table. They always ended in the kitchen, his girl helping her daddy, his boys stealing balls of mozzarella and eating them in his office, Frankie gabbing to his kids.
“I remember.”
“Okay, honey.”
He lifted his head and touched his lips to her forehead.
She bent in and kissed his jaw.
“Dad!” they heard Joey shouting from upstairs. “Van is gettin’ into my stuff!”
“Donovan!” Benny shouted back, still holding his baby close. “Leave your brother’s stuff alone!”
That was when they heard from Van, “Joey’s got a big mouth!”
And that was when they heard from Joey, “It’s my stuff!”
And that was when he felt his wife kiss his jaw again before she whispered in his ear, “Good luck with that, baby.”
Benny looked down to catch her smiling.
She pulled out of his arms, grabbed her purse, computer bag, and travel mug, shouting toward the door, “Momma’s leavin’ and she’s doin’ it lovin’ her babies!”
“’Bye, Momma,” Alessandra, their oldest, shouted. “Love you!”
“’Bye, Mom!” Joey, their second, yelled.
“’Bye!” Van, their last, put his in, then bellowed, “Joey!”
She grinned at Benny and walked through the door to the garage.
It was then that Ben heard Gus bark, this always a warning that things were deteriorating.
But before he hauled his ass from the counter and walked through his huge-ass kitchen to sort out his sons, he looked tow
ard the calendar.
Varied colors of ink. Different handwriting. Mostly Frankie’s. Some of Benny’s. Even some of Ales’s and Joey’s. All marked up. Hardly any white space at all. Alessandra’s dance. Joseph’s karate. Playdates for Donovan. Slumber parties for his girl. Sleepovers for his boys. Birthdays. Dinners with Man and Sela and their brood. His Ma and Pop. Chrissy and Eva. Cat and Art and their crew. And when they could expect people walking through their door to get their own meal made by Frankie.
All the shit that makes a good life scribbled in the blocks printed on glossy paper hanging on a wall.
And on their calendar, full of scribbles, proof the Bianchis lived a good life.
They’d had calendars like that for years.
And Frankie kept each one. Taking it down on January first, always when Benny was in the kitchen. Then putting the new one up and carefully sliding the old one on the shelf in the living room by the TV that held the kids’ baby books and their wedding album.
Taking in his life on a calendar meant Benny was smiling at his feet as he walked out of his kitchen, down the hall to the foot of the stairs, and shouted up them, “Right! Stop screwin’ around! School! Now!”
He heard pounding feet.
Then he saw Gus at the top of the stairs. Their dog woofed, reporting in that the kids were minding.
And since Dad had spoken, and even Van listened when Dad spoke, Ben stood where he was, arms crossed on his chest, waiting for his kids so he could take them to school.
* * * * *
Theresa Bianchi parked at the back of the pizzeria.
She turned to her big bag in the seat beside her, hefted it up, and looped the straps over her shoulder before she got out of the car.
She headed in the back door and went directly to her son’s office.
There, she saw her handsome boy standing at his desk, phone to his ear.
Always standing, her Benny. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him sitting at his desk. Even as a child, he’d always been doing something.
Now as a man, a husband, a father, a business owner, he was the same…except more. Even sitting and watching a game on TV, he seemed somehow full of energy.
Electric.
His gaze came to her and his lips curled up.
She smiled at him and walked in, taking her bag from her arm.
She opened it and pulled out the picture she’d put in the frame that morning.
She set it on its stand on his desk, which was cluttered with some papers, but mostly it was cluttered with picture frames.
Like she’d done since they opened their pizzeria, she still hung pictures of family all over the dining room. So many, from the time her kids were little through the time her kids had kids, the walls were covered in them.
Except there weren’t many of Benny’s family.
This was because her son didn’t get into the dining room very often. But he did spend time in his office. And since he did, if he saw a photo of his family that his mother put on one of the walls in their pizzeria, he took it down and set it on his desk so it was in a place where he could see it.
So now, Theresa didn’t put the photos she took of Benny and his family in the dining room.
She put them on his desk.
And she put that one on his desk. Eight-by-ten. Black-and-white. She took it at Frankie’s last birthday party.
In it, Benny and Cal were standing close together at the front door. Benny had Alessandra leaning heavily against his side, tuckered out because it was late. So tired, her thick, lush lashes were sweeping her cheeks. She had her daddy’s arm around her shoulders.
Cal was holding his youngest son, little Ben, in his arms. Her boy Benny’s namesake was asleep. Joey, Van, and Vi and Cal’s second son, Sam, were in the shot—a blur, because they were chasing each other.
Benny and Cal were looking at each other and they were grinning.
Off to the side, Frankie and Violet also stood close. Frankie was wearing her tight, short dress, with her head tipped back, laughing. Vi had Angie’s hand in hers and she was looking down at her smiling daughter. Vi was also laughing.
To the other side, Kate and her husband, Tony, and Keira and her fiancé, Jasper, were standing and talking to Vinnie. They were also laughing.
Balloons festooned the entryway. Cal and Vi and their family were getting ready to leave.
It had taken them half an hour to get out the door.
But no one complained.
Family always had a lot to say, but most of it happened during good-byes.
This was because no one liked saying them.
Once Theresa set the picture down, she lifted her eyes to her son.
He was looking at the picture in its frame. His face was soft with memories.
Then he looked at his mother and she saw his eyes warm with love.
Theresa gave him another smile as she walked silently out of his office, that warm look of love in his beautiful eyes a memory she’d forever keep.
That was her Benny.
We’ll say goodbye to The ‘Burg with the story of Merry and Cheryl.
####
About the Author
Kristen Ashley grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana but has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.
Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).
Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.
*****
Discover other titles by Kristen Ashley:
Rock Chick Series:
Rock Chick
Rock Chick Rescue
Rock Chick Redemption
Rock Chick Renegade
Rock Chick Revenge
Rock Chick Reckoning
Rock Chick Regret
Rock Chick Revolution
The ‘Burg Series:
For You
At Peace
Golden Trail
Games of the Heart
The Promise
The Chaos Series:
Own the Wind
Fire Inside
The Colorado Mountain Series:
The Gamble
Sweet Dreams
Lady Luck
Breathe
Jagged
Kaleidoscope
Dream Man Series:
Mystery Man
Wild Man
Law Man
Motorcycle Man
The Fantasyland Series:
Wildest Dreams
The Golden Dynasty
Fantastical
Broken Dove
The Magdalene Series:
The Will
The Three Series:
Until the Sun Falls from the Sky
With Everything I Am
The Unfinished Hero Series:
Knight
Creed
Raid
Other Titles by Kristen Ashley:
Fairytale Come Alive
Heaven and Hell
Lacybourne Manor
Lucky Stars
Mathilda, SuperWitch
Penmort Castle
Play It Safe
Sommersgate House
Three Wishes
Connect with Kristen Online:
Official Website: www.kristenashley.net
Kristen’s Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/kristenashleybooks
Follow Kristen on Twitter: KristenAshley68
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Cover Art by 8 Dot Graphics