The Promise Read online

  What I needed was time with Benny and time in a speedboat on a beautiful lake with two gorgeous girls, a cool chick, and a nice guy.

  Ben had walked up to the hotel from the cabin for the rehearsal so he drove me and my Z back down.

  He was taking my bag into the bedroom.

  I was staring at the lake, thinking I’d never felt the feeling I was feeling. I didn’t know what it was because it wasn’t just happy.

  It was more.

  I was thinking I felt like how Vi looked that night (when she wasn’t crying due to Gary’s speech).

  Serene.

  “Thinkin’ that Cal didn’t think it out when he demanded they get hitched so close to Angie comin’ into the world,” Ben called as he walked into the room. “Girls are goin’ up to Chicago to spend the week with Bea and Gary. But Angie’s goin’ with Vi and him down to Virgin Gorda. So I’m not sure the honeymoon will be all it can be.”

  “Cal’s determined to do something, I figure he’ll make it work,” I told the window.

  “Yeah,” Ben answered, then asked, “Fridge is full, baby. You want a drink?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  And I was good.

  Better than I’d ever been.

  Two seconds later, I got even better when Ben fitted his front to my back and slid his arms around me.

  I felt his face in my neck and got even better when he whispered, “My baby’s quiet.”

  “Your baby’s happy.”

  His arms gave me a squeeze.

  “Thank you for givin’ this to me, Benny Bianchi.”

  He heard me. He got me. And he knew what it meant to me.

  I knew this when he growled, “Jesus, Frankie,” into my neck, his arms going super tight.

  “A while ago,” I said to the lake, “you told me you love me.”

  His arms didn’t loosen, but his lips slid up to my ear. “Yeah? When was that?”

  Like he didn’t remember.

  Still, I told him, “The day Angie was born.”

  “Well, I didn’t lie.”

  He remembered.

  I closed my eyes so I could fully feel the magnificence of those words sliding through me.

  “You never said it again,” I noted.

  “Showed it,” he replied.

  He did do that. Constantly.

  “Yeah,” I whispered, gliding my hands along his arms where he was holding me and settling them there. “Do I show it?”

  “Tesorina.”

  He said nothing more.

  “I want to show it,” I said so quietly I could barely even hear myself, but I felt my words trembling with the feeling behind them. “I want to know I show it. I want to know you feel it. Even when you’re away from me. I want to know you wake up every morning knowing you have my love and you go to sleep every night knowing the same thing.”

  “Never said it, Frankie.”

  I opened my eyes and looked at the lake. “Well, I’m saying it now. I love you, Benny Bianchi. Even when you aren’t with me, I wake up knowing how much I love you and I go to sleep knowing the same thing.”

  I just got out the word “thing” when I lost my view of the lake because Ben turned me in his arms. One hand slid up in my hair, the other arm crushed me to him, and he bent his head to me.

  Then he kissed me, slowly, deeply, gorgeously.

  But when he lifted his head, he simply said softly, “Let’s go to bed.”

  There was no other place I’d rather be.

  I didn’t tell Ben that.

  I just felt him let me go, take my hand, and then he led me to bed.

  * * * * *

  “Babe, I gotta get to Cal!” Benny called toward the bathroom where Frankie had been for half an age, shrugging the jacket of his tuxedo on and thanking God that Cal was as Cal was. That being a man who hated ties and, therefore, a man who not only was not wearing one to his wedding, he didn’t expect the men standing up with him to wear one either.

  Cal’s groomsmen were wearing tuxes with deep purple shirts, the whole getup Cal and Vi had tailored specifically for each of them, all of it, including the tuxes, they could keep.

  He didn’t need a tux, though he didn’t say no. But even deep purple, the color was dark, the material was fine, so the shirt was the shit.

  Cal was wearing a black shirt with his tux. Then again, except the blue of his jeans, Cal never wore anything but black.

  “Go!” Frankie called back through the closed door. “I’ll take the Z up.”

  “Don’t need two cars up there and the lot’s gonna be packed. By the time you get up there, you’ll have to hoof it a mile. You need to take me. You can hang with Mimi,” Ben returned.

  He was walking toward the bathroom to open the door but stopped suddenly when the door opened and Frankie stood there.

  Her hair was done, up in a large, messy, sexy, loose arrangement at the nape, the curls and waves leading to it. Her makeup and jewelry were one step up from yesterday but probably because it was a formal wedding. She wasn’t wearing any shoes.

  He liked her heels but that dress didn’t need shoes.

  Turquoise, strapless, short, tight, it had two thick strips of black lace running diagonally across the dress: one at the hip that slanted up around her ribs, one at her ribs on the other side that slanted up over a breast and ended at the line of the top of the dress, the scalloped edge protruding past the turquoise so fucking sweet, it was like another accessory.

  She was always varying nuances of crazy-beautiful.

  Right then, he’d never seen anyone, not in his entire life, so fucking stunning.

  “I’ll just grab my shoes—” she started.

  “Seriously?” he cut her off.

  She ceased moving and her eyes came to him.

  She read him and he knew it when she started backing away, saying, “Benny, my hair—”

  “Seriously,” he said it again, a statement this time, and started stalking toward her.

  “We can’t do this, Benny. You have to be up at the hotel.”

  “We’ll be quick,” he replied, and she ran into the wall.

  She started sliding along it, but he stopped that when he made it to her and put a hand in the wall by her side.

  “Even quick—” she began.

  “Pull up your skirt,” he ordered, taking his hand from the wall, the other one joining it, spanning her waist as the rest of him got in her space.

  Her eyes had widened, but they also flashed and he knew what the second one meant.

  Still, she declared, “We don’t have time, Benny,” but her voice was wispy.

  “Skirt up, babe.”

  “Ben—”

  He dropped his mouth to hers. “Now.”

  Her lids fell and her hands went to her skirt to yank it up.

  When she had it up, his hands went to her panties to yank them down.

  Then he lifted her and pressed her against the wall.

  Hands on her bare ass, mouth touching hers, he told her, “Need your hands, baby.”

  She knew what he needed and her fingers went to his pants. Not wasting time, she had him free and took her shot to give him a firm stroke, taking in the whole length.

  Jesus, Frankie.

  He clenched his teeth and through them ordered, “Guide me to you.”

  She ran her teeth over her lower lip, catching his when she did, something that scored straight down to his dick, as she slid him through her wet and the tip of his cock caught at her pussy.

  “Fuckin’ ecstasy,” he groaned and thrust in.

  Her hands lifted so she could round his shoulders with her arms and she whispered, “No, baby, that’s ecstasy.”

  She was not wrong and it got better as he banged her hard and fast against the wall, her arms and legs clamped around him, her pussy clenching tight, her lips brushing his, their breaths escalating until his was labored and broken by grunts and hers was panting.

  “Love you, Benny,” she whispered against his lips, ho
lding on tight with everything she had.

  Jesus.

  Frankie.

  Fucking ecstasy.

  He slid one arm to her upper back to hold her closer. “Love you too, cara.”

  “It’s coming,” she whimpered, holding on tighter.

  “Take it, honey.”

  She took it, gasping against his mouth.

  Once she got it, he took it, fucking her harder and faster until he got it.

  After he came down from the high she gave him, he slid his lips to her neck and kissed her there.

  And there he said, “Maybe we should buy you some sweatshirts.”

  “And miss my shot at Benny Bianchi banging me against the wall? I don’t think so,” she said in his ear, her words breathy.

  He lifted his head and grinned at her beauty, stayed inside her and kept her close, even as he murmured, “Now I really gotta go.”

  “Okay, honey. Find my shoes. I’ll clean up and we’ll hurry.”

  He touched his mouth to hers, slid out, and set her on her feet, holding her until he knew she was steady.

  He cleaned up and zipped up. She cleaned up and yanked on her panties. He grabbed her shoes as she shoved her feet into some flip-flops.

  And he held her hand as they walked out to her Z.

  * * * * *

  “Cugino, seriously?”

  They’d just been told by a member of staff that it was time to take their places at the gazebo by the lake.

  Mimi was there to take Angie from Cal, but Cal told her to go on out—he was keeping his baby girl.

  That was when Benny asked his question.

  Cal looked at him. “She’s good with me.”

  “Brother, you’re about to get married,” Benny pointed out.

  “And she’s gonna be with me,” Cal declared.

  Ben caught Manny smiling at Colt, who grinned back, then aimed his grin at his shoes.

  Then Ben looked to Mimi and said, “You can go, darlin’. Thanks.”

  “Right,” she murmured, laughter in her tone. “Have a great wedding!” she said loudly before she disappeared.

  “Got the ring?” Cal asked.

  “You think I’d forget somethin’ like that?” Ben asked back.

  “Didn’t ask that. Asked if you got it,” Cal returned.

  “Of course I’ve got it.”

  “Brilliant. Let’s get this shit over with so I can get somethin’ to eat,” Cal muttered, securing his daughter more firmly in the crook of his arm and heading to the door.

  Ben shook his head but did it quietly laughing as he followed his cousin.

  They walked through the side door and Ben saw what he saw earlier when he arrived to keep Cal and his daughter company before the wedding.

  Lots of white chairs, the outside of the rows connected at the ends with green and purple ribbons, some chairs holding a trailing bunch of flowers that were cream and purple, the flowers also decorating the inside row of chairs but without the ribbons.

  The roof of the gazebo was dripping in flowers. There were also white ribbons attached from a massive bouquet at the front of the gazebo that led out to poles stuck in the ground every third chair all the way across the space. Ben didn’t know much about this shit, but the ribbons and poles were a nice touch, creating the sense of intimacy, even when they were outside, but doing it without obstructing the phenomenal view.

  The judge officiating the ceremony was standing in the gazebo and a string quartet was playing “Canon in D.”

  Without hesitation or looking at anyone, Cal strode right up to the gazebo carrying Angela in her little purple dress with the scrunchy purple thing wrapped around her pretty, bald-save-for-a-hint-of-dark fuzzed head.

  Ben stood on the step beside the gazebo opening, Manny took his place on the grass by him, Colt next, and they barely got there before Cheryl started walking down the white runner that led down the aisle. She was in a tight, strapless, green satin dress and was carrying a thin bouquet of purple irises, the length of their stems wrapped in green ribbon.

  Kate and Keira came next, walking together arm in arm, wearing purple that was strapless but not tight. Their dresses had floaty skirts. Same bouquets.

  He took his eyes off them and found Frankie, sitting between Sela and his ma in the front row, her body totally turned in her seat to watch the girls walk the aisle.

  Taking her in from hair to heels, it was then he realized he should have waited to fuck her after she put on her shoes.

  On that thought, he heard Cal make a low, rough noise and his eyes lifted from Frankie, who was now coming out of her seat to the aisle, and he stopped breathing.

  On the arm of her father, holding a massive, fluffy bouquet with what he could see were cream roses, the big flowers from the table decorations last night but in white, and little violets, Vi was walking down the aisle.

  Her sleeveless, ivory dress was lace from the V-neck that showed a hint of cleavage all the way down to the long train trailing behind her. She had a wide, violet ribbon wrapped around her waist and the ends mingled with her train. Her hair was up, curled and fastened in a loose bun at the side of her neck, and around the bun and radiating from it into her hair were a bunch of rhinestones and tiny, real violets.

  Her hand was in the curve of her father’s arm.

  Her eyes were on Cal.

  And her face was beaming.

  Ben forced in a breath and watched Vi walk down the aisle to Pachelbel, her eyes never leaving Cal, her smile never faltering.

  Cal met her at the bottom of the steps, and she shook her head at her soon-to-be husband before she leaned in and kissed their daughter’s head.

  Her father gave her away and Cal led her back up the steps.

  Within fifteen minutes, they were married.

  Once proclaimed husband and wife, even holding his daughter in his arm, Cal pulled his wife close. The kiss was long, wet, and deep to the point Benny heard laughter. He couldn’t beat back his smile, and along with the crowd, Benny participated in the clapping and shouting.

  The kiss only ended when Angela was done with it, communicating this by giving a loud baby shriek.

  After the kiss, Cal settled his girl, then walked his wife and baby girl down the aisle, both of them stopping to smile at people, Vi to bend deep and do cheek presses, Cal to do chin lifts and allow his daughter to have her chubby baby cheek touched.

  Ben moved into the aisle and took Kate on one arm, Keira on the other, and followed them.

  Colt and Manny flanked Cheryl and they followed Benny and the girls.

  Short, sweet, and pure beauty.

  This was how Anthony Joseph Callahan made Violet Winters his wife.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Long Shot

  Ben was pissed off and not because his phone just rang and it had Sal’s number on the display.

  Because it was his birthday, the Thursday after Cal and Vi’s wedding, and Frankie was supposed to be down for the entire day, arriving that morning, leaving the next.

  But she’d called the day before and said there was a work thing she couldn’t get out of. This meant she was taking a late afternoon flight and he’d have her for dinner and a fuck, then she’d be gone on the first flight in the morning. A flight that left at 6:30, which meant they had to be out of the house before five to get her to her plane.

  Technically, she was with him for his birthday so he couldn’t get pissed at her.

  That said, he clearly hadn’t expressed the totality of his expectations when it came to special days.

  But her work was her work, it meant something to her, and he had to stand down.

  This time.

  He was just wondering when the fuck the time would come when he wouldn’t. They loved each other. They’d said it. They showed it. When they were apart it was okay, they kept as close as they could with the distance, but it was not near as good as when they were together.

  When they were together it was dynamite.

  She had t
o want more, didn’t she?

  He had no answer to that question, and was getting increasingly frustrated with Frankie not even bringing it up, which meant he was going to have to and possibly not like her answer.

  On these thoughts, he pulled into his garage after going to the gym that morning. Going to the gym when he should have been going to the airport to pick up Frankie.

  No, when he should have been home from the airport and having a birthday fuck with his woman in his bed.

  And Sal was on his phone.

  In other words, so far it’d been a fucking shitty birthday.

  He grabbed his phone, took the call, nabbed his workout bag, and rolled out the car door.

  “Sal,” he greeted after he put the phone to his ear.

  “Benny, figlio.”

  Ben clenched his teeth, wishing Sal would quit with the figlio crap.

  “I hear Violet made a beautiful bride,” he went on as Benny moved through the side garage door into his backyard.

  “Yeah,” Ben agreed, not about to tell him he thought it was cool that Gina and he had declined the invitation Violet had extended, knowing in that small resort gathering they would be hard for the Bianchis to avoid.

  It was a kind thing to do for Cal and Vi, not giving them awkwardness, not to mention respect to his ma and pop, who didn’t need that shit on a day they were over the moon happy.

  “I’m hoping to see pictures,” Sal muttered.

  Ben said nothing. He had pictures on his phone, about three thousand of them, all taken by Frankie whose phone didn’t fit in her miniscule purse, a purse she carried for the sole purpose, that Ben could see, of holding her lip gloss.

  Even if he had pictures, he wouldn’t be sending them to Sal.

  He let himself in the back door of his house and changed the subject by asking, “There another reason you’re calling?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Sal answered.

  He wasn’t big on the “unfortunately.”

  Ben dumped his workout bag on the table and went to the fridge to get a water, prompting, “That would be…?”

  “Made a number of inquiries, Benny, dug deep. That’s why it took so long. It would seem the job you asked about was done by out of town talent. No trail. I’ve got nothing.”