The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Adrianna pulls back, taking his face into her hands and smiles, giving him the brightest smile, she had. When we were kids, she used to look up at him as she is now, like he was her favorite person in the entire world. Like he was her hero.

  He smiled sadly as she stared at him, memorizing every feature of his face.

  “I love you,” she whispers. “I’m sorry if I sometimes didn’t show it, so sorry I ever made you doubt it.”

  He shakes his head, wiping away the tears cascading down her cheeks with his thumbs as he cocks his head to the side.

  “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life but my biggest regret will always be failing you,” he confesses.

  “You didn’t fail me, Daddy,” she cries. “I know that now,” she whispers.

  “I couldn’t let you go,” he explains. “I didn’t know how to, I couldn’t accept you weren’t my little girl anymore.”

  He tucks her hair behind her ear and grants her a bittersweet smile.

  “But that isn’t so now, is it? You’ll always be my little girl, won’t you?”

  “Always,” she assures.

  He pulls back and glances over his shoulder toward me, extending his hand and willing me with his gaze to join them. I close the distance between us as Adrianna drops her hands from his face and my dad grabs a hold of my hand and pulls me into the crook of his arm. With both me and my sister stuck to him like glue, he showered the top of our heads with kisses before choking out the words I’ll always remember.

  “You’re both Daddy’s little girls and always will be even in eternity,” he utters. His thin arms squeezing us tightly against his sides. “I love you both with my whole heart and all I ask is that you never forget that.”

  Anthony and Mikey move to the back of the room as Dad guides us to the table, pulling out our chairs and tucking our legs beneath the table before he walks around and takes a seat on the opposite end. He reaches across and takes one hand from each of us and holds onto our hands for dear life.

  He insists we have all done enough crying and wants us to make the most of our time together. He starts with me, giving me his undivided attention as he sets his intent gaze on me and makes me recall every detail of my doctor’s visit. I tell him about my diagnosis and my plan of action. I explain the surgery to him and tell him I will most likely have difficulty having children.

  I see the unmistakable forlorn look in his eyes and I smile back at him.

  “I’m okay, Dad. Mikey and I discussed it and we’re not even sure we want kids but if we decide we do, well, he’d move Heaven and Earth to give me whatever I want. I’m going to have a great life.” I promise him, my voice cracking as I say the words.

  “That you are,” he agrees, leaning back in his chair as he glances over our shoulders at the two men who claimed our hearts. “I don’t think I could’ve picked two better men for the two of you,” he says thoughtfully, returning his warm eyes back to us. “I remember your First Holy Communion,” he recalls, speaking to my sister. “Val and I joked that you and Michael would one day end up married,” he laughs, turning his gaze to me. “Yet you’re the one who will become a Valente.”

  “Pastore-Valente,” I correct.

  “That makes me proud and I’m sure wherever Val and Maryann are they’re smiling down too,” he says with a wink.

  He turns back to Adrianna.

  “Anymore grandbabies in the future?”

  “Probably one more,” she says. “If it’s a girl her name will be Frankie and if it’s a boy Anthony Jr.,” she informs him so grandpa knows the names of any future Bianci children.

  “Paint me a picture, girls,” he requests. It was one of his favorite sayings, a staple in our childhood memories. He closes his eyes, as he did so many times throughout the years, and asks us to show him the future, one he won’t be a part of.

  We tell him our dreams, our hopes for what may come. We vow to always take care of our mom and keep the traditions they instilled in us alive. There was no shortage of tears and the love between a father and his daughters was very much alive and always would be.

  With life comes death. Sometimes you don’t see it coming, sometimes you have time to prepare for it but either way it leaves you raw and wondering how your life will go on without those who made your life have meaning. It will be hard, they’ll be days I’ll cry, days I’ll sit at the cemetery and talk to a stone, days I’ll look up to the heavens and wish for a sign. But, life will go on for me and my sister and sometimes we’ll feel guilty or wish he was here. The world will still turn with our father’s love forever alive in our hearts.

  “Use the Long Island house,” Dad says in-between coughing and struggling for breath. “Create memories just like we used to when you were kids.”

  “We will, Dad,” Adrianna promises. Reaching into her pocket she pulls out several folded pieces of paper. She unfolds them, splays them on the table and mentally checks off the things listed on the pages. The last page remains folded, and she places her hand over it, pushing it toward dad.

  “You wrote me a letter on my wedding day,” she says, pausing as Dad covers her hand with his. “I can’t say goodbye to you,” she lifts her eyes to his. “I can tell you I forgive you. I can tell you I love you and I always will. I can promise you I will live a good life and teach my children all the valuable lessons you’ve taught us. I can give you all those things and my solemn word you may leave this world but you’ll never ever leave my heart…I can’t say goodbye.”

  She turns his palm over and places the letter against it before closing his hand and bending her head to kiss it.

  “All the words I can’t bring myself to say are in that letter,” she whispers, dropping his hand to stand and walk around the table. She bends down and wraps her arms around him. “I love you, Dad,” she cries.

  Anthony and Michael walked over to the table, Mikey stands behind me, his hands bracing on the back of my chair as he keeps looking toward the door.

  Adrianna and my dad embrace for several minutes before she pulls back and Anthony extends his hand to my dad. Dad slides his hand into Anthony’s and stands up, shaking his hand and bringing him into his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” my father says. “You’re a good man and I’m proud to call you my son-in-law.”

  “I’ll always take care of your daughter, Vic,” Anthony declares. “I’ll give her all the love a man can give a woman.”

  “I know you will, been watching you do it since you first laid eyes on her.”

  My vision blurs as the clock ticks down and time closes in on us. The door opens and the guard steps inside holding the door open for my mother. She freezes in her tracks as she takes in the scene before her.

  “Gracie,” my father rasps.

  A priest steps into the room and lays a hand on my mother’s shoulder, startling her and forcing her to enter the room. The guard closes the door and leaves us all alone with the priest as Mikey walks around the chair, bends his knees and brings his eyes to mine. He takes my hands in his and I stare at him blankly.

  “Nikki,” he says, clearing his throat before he squeezes my hands in his and smiles. “Marry me,” he whispers.

  “What?” I ask confused. We already had done this. I glance at the ring on my finger, yep, see, we’re engaged.

  “Marry me right now, right here, in front of your dad.”

  I feel my throat close and tears flood my eyes as I glance around the room and then back at the man I love on his knees. I had to be dreaming, this wasn’t happening right now. I mean it couldn’t be.

  “We don’t have a marriage certificate,” I blurt.

  “We’ll get one,” he promises. “You can still do the whole dress thing and we’ll have a big party for your crazy aunt and grandmother, we’ll do it all. But we can do it now too, in front of God, with the man you want to give you away.”

  Tears spill from my eyes as I glance at the priest.

  “Can we?”

  “I can marry you in the eyes of
God,” he affirms.

  I looked over at my dad, my mother has now moved to his side, her arm tightly wound around his, leaning her head against his shoulder as they stare back at me.

  “Will you give me away, Daddy?”

  He nods as he cries.

  “It would be my honor,” he replies huskily.

  I smiled before averting my eyes to Mikey.

  “Let’s get married,” I say, leaning my forehead to his.

  The next few minutes feel like a whirlwind as the priest takes his position in the center of the room; Mikey stands to his left and Anthony right beside him. Across from them my sister stands. All eyes were on me as I looped one arm through my father’s and the other through my mother’s as I take six steps toward my groom.

  My mother reaches up and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear how much she loves me before taking two steps back and allowing me this unforgettable moment with my father. He unravels my arm from his and cups my face with his hands. Cocking his head to the side, he stares at me silently for several moments.

  “Remember I love you,” he whispers before placing a kiss to my forehead. He drops his hands from my face and takes my hand in both of his as he turns to Mikey.

  Then the one thing I gave up on ever hearing was said.

  “Who gives this woman’s hand in marriage?”

  “I do,” my father croaks, taking Mike’s hand and placing my hand inside of it.

  “Thanks, Vic,” Mikey replies, dropping a kiss to my hand before releasing it and shaking my father’s hand. “Thanks for giving me my life back.”

  It may not have been the wedding little girls dream of, but it was perfect. I became Mrs. Michael Valente Jr. in Otisville prison, in the eyes of God and in front of the people I loved most in the world.

  And my dad gave my hand to the man he trusted to take care of me for the rest of my life.

  He got his peace of mind.

  And I got my dream come true.

  That was our final goodbye.

  A day I’ll remember for all of eternity.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I was emotionally exhausted, leaving a piece of my heart behind the barbed wire fence of Otisville Penitentiary when I kissed my father’s cheek one final time and headed out of the prison with my new husband.

  I never saw that one coming.

  On the car ride home, Mikey explained how he had Anthony pull a few strings to make sure a priest was present at our visit. I didn’t ask questions, too grateful to care the lengths my brother-in-law went to help Mikey out.

  I was Mrs. Michael Valente.

  So what if it wasn’t legal, Mikey and I were husband and wife. It was etched in our hearts and with God as our witness and my father’s blessing. It didn’t get any more official than that for me.

  Mikey pulled our car into the driveway and I stared out the window at our house. Maybe we’d raise a family, maybe we’d get a dog, who knows? But I knew for sure, that contained within the walls of our home would be tons of love.

  “You ready to go home, Mrs. Valente?” Mike asks, smiling as he turns off the car and stares at me.

  I avert my eyes away from the house he grew up in, the house he worked so hard to make ours since we first moved in. I wasn’t there for him when his mom passed, I tried to be there for him when his dad was murdered but we were young. I hope we never know loss for the next fifty years but if we should I will be there for him just the way he has been there for me. I will be the pillar he holds onto when the storm rages on and when it finally passes when the clouds part and the sun breaks through, I will be the reason he smiles.

  I don’t know what I did to deserve him, I’ll never understand it but I’ll always thank those who gave us life and left us behind, sure they had a hand in the magic that was me and Mikey.

  I grinned widely at him, tired of crying and wanting so desperately to give him back the pieces of me I lost through the storm that’s been raging around me.

  “Mrs. Valente,” I squeal, grabbing his hand over the console. “You’re my husband! How fucking crazy is that?”

  He chuckles, running his free hand through his hair as he leans against the seat and smiles lazily at me.

  You’re stuck with me now, Princess,” he says, his eyes searing me as he draws out a heavy sigh and waves his hand down the length of him. “All this is yours.”

  My teeth pierce my lower lip as I try to hide my mischievous grin and let my eyes travel the length of him.

  “Never forget who you belong to, Mikey,” I joke as he lifts my left hand to his lips and brushes them softly across my knuckles. The pad of his thumb twirls my engagement ring around my finger as he averts his eyes back to mine.

  “We need to get wedding bands,” he declares. “And a marriage certificate.”

  “Yes, but for no other reason than I will need it to change my name legally,” I agree, pausing for a moment. “I’m your wife, Mikey,” I say, taking our joined hands and resting them over my chest. “We’re married in here, where it counts most.”

  “That means tonight is our wedding night,” he says suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.

  “It does, and it also means today’s date will be our anniversary, you know for the future,” I wink.

  He laughs as he leans over the console, reaching for me with his free hand and guiding my lips to his.

  “What do you say we make this union official, Princess?”

  He murmurs the question as his lips glided glide over mine teasingly.

  “The last first time we have sex as a married couple will be the first of many last first times,” I say thoughtfully.

  “What’re we waiting for?”

  “For you to carry me over the threshold,” I say pointedly.

  His mouth instantly leaves mine and in a flash he is out of the car, opening my door and pulling me out. He takes my hand and leads me up the front stoop, climbing two stairs at a time until he stands in front of the door.

  Mikey crooks his finger, beckoning me to him to close the few steps separating us, capturing me in his arms by the second step.

  “Shit, my keys are in my pocket,” he mutters.

  I snake my hand around his frame and pull the key ring from the back pocket of his jeans.

  Look at that.

  We already aced the teamwork shit.

  He walks us closer to the door and bends his knees so I can fit the key into the lock and unlock the door. His massive boot kicks the door open and we both glance inside our home before our eyes find one another’s.

  “Ready to make this the last first time you’re carried over the threshold?”

  “So ready,” I say, tightening my arms around his neck.

  He grins, taking one large step over the threshold before gruffly whispering into my ear.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Valente,” he croons.

  The last first time Mikey welcomed me home as his wife.

  He kicks the door closed, sets me down on my feet and we stare at one another for a few moments. This was it, the beginning of the rest of our lives, and as scary as that was it was also exciting. It was as if the life I knew before today was tucked away safely in a box full of memories and our home was our blank canvas. My father’s voice rang in my ears.

  Paint me a picture.

  Mikey and I were going to paint him one hell of a picture.

  I look at my husband wondering if he was as excited and as nervous as I was. Would we fuck up? Probably. Would we fix it? Always.

  Simultaneously our lips spread into grins as we find our footing and I turn around and run up the stairs.

  He follows me.

  He’d always follow me just as I had followed him in the past.

  I’d always let him catch me.

  After all, he let me catch him.

  His arms snake around my waist as he reaches our bedroom. His fingertips curl into my sides, tickling me and sending me into a fit of giggles.

  Laughing felt almost foreign after all the
crying I had been doing but it felt good to let go of my grief and live in the moment.

  Mikey’s hands slide underneath the hem of my shirt, his fingers draw circles on my skin as he presses my back against his front and leans his chin on my shoulder. My laughter tapers off as I twist in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck. Staring into Mikey’s eyes, every uncertainty I carried fades away from me and all that is left is the promise of forever.

  Making one another happy, forever.

  Living in the moment, forever.

  Experiencing life together, forever.

  Loving one another, forever.

  Forever him and me.

  I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head tossing it on the floor before raising an eyebrow, daring him to mimic me.

  The last first time I dared him as husband and wife.

  With one hand he reaches behind him and lifts his t-shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor beside mine. I extend my hand and close my fist over the rosary beads that dangle from his neck—his mother’s.

  Thanks Maryann, for creating the perfect man for me to spend forever with.

  I lean down and kiss the crucifix before releasing the beads. I run my fingers down his arms, his muscles flexing beneath my fingertips until they take purchase on his hips. Mikey trails one hand down my stomach and pops the button of my jean shorts with his fingers. He reaches out with his other hand and draws the zipper down before crossing both arms against his chest and taking a step back.

  Take off your clothes, Princess, his eyes dared.

  Dare accepted.

  I slide my thumbs through the belt loops of my shorts and tug the denim down my thighs, bending over suggestively as I work them all the way down. I step out of them, turn my back to him and reach behind me to unclasp my bra, letting the straps fall down my arms. Braless, I spin around and face him, watching as his hooded eyes dip to my breasts. My nipples hardened under his intense gaze as I drag my thong down my hips.

  Mikey pushes my hands out of the way and takes over, looping his fingers under the lace and inching it down my hips, baring my most intimate secrets to him. He drops to his knees, his lips gliding over every inch he has uncovered, continuing down my legs and stopping at my knees. He lifts one foot from the ground and draws the lace down. I go to kick off the thong that dangled from my other ankle when he drapes the leg he is holding over his shoulder. My fingers tangled in his hair, grasping it for leverage as he repeats the motion and lifts me onto his shoulders, depositing me on the bed.