His thumb gliding over my lips took me out of my thoughts, and I focused on him again just as he said gently, “You know, you’re not your ma.”

I closed my eyes.

“Babe, even before you hooked up with Vinnie, it was like you weren’t part of that family,” he continued. “Everyone said it.”

I opened my eyes.

“Enzo Junior’s the shit because the man is funny,” Ben told me. “He can hold his drink. He’s got a sixth sense when it comes to locating fine tail. And he’d drop everything if you needed him to have your back. But I know one of the things he’d drop is his woman, even if she was in the middle of her own shit, doin’ that so he could take his brother’s back. He’s a player. He’s in his late twenties and still says stupid shit when he sees a fat girl, which makes him a dick. And he’s the best of that crew you call family.”

“There’s Dino,” I told him.

“Dino’s an anomaly, proof that you weren’t switched at the hospital ’cause he shares your blood and he’s a good guy. But he’s a good guy because he got outta the mess you were bounced around in growin’ up. You’re you because of a miracle.”

His words made my breath catch as I stared into his eyes. “You think that?”

“Fuck yeah,” he replied. “Word is, Nat’s back with Davey, and she’s since hooked up with two other guys who are not Davey, he just doesn’t know about them yet. She’s also lost her job and found another since we last saw her, and the word about that is, she’s dancing.”

Oh fuck. That wasn’t good. That meant Nat, money, a lot of men, and not very many clothes.

Poor Davey.

“Cat has dropped off the face of the earth, which could mean anything,” Ben carried on. “Your ma, I don’t know and I don’t care. And in the time I was with you after you got out of the hospital, and our time earlier on this couch catchin’ up, you didn’t say a word about your dad and he lives fifteen fuckin’ minutes away. You fucked me over and sent me cookies. You make meetings on time and think about how to make an employee respect you. Your outfit today, babe…sexy, way too fuckin’ sexy…but admittedly, it was also don’t-fuck-with-me business. Sounds of it, you live in an upscale apartment building. You travel for your work in a way that they put you up in fancy hotels. Your future includes raises, promotions, the possibility of gettin’ a dog—but only the kind I want—and findin’ some way to do all that and circle back to a life with me. You are not them. You are nothin’ like them. You grew up fucked and you still grew up smart, strong, capable, funny, and loving. So yeah. Fuck yeah. That’s a miracle.”

That was all too much, too beautiful, I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t even believe it.

I certainly couldn’t comment on it.

But my voice was husky when I asked, “What kind of dog do you want?”

He gave me that play, but he did it with his eyes gentling, along with his voice, showing me he knew I needed to make it when he said, “Kid friendly.”

Kid friendly.

God, he was killing me.

“A pug?” I asked, and the gentle look vanished.

“No fuckin’ way.”

“They’re cute, sweet, snorty, and friendly.”

“Any dog that is even partially a permanent fixture in my life has to be at least five times bigger than a cat, and when I say that, I mean a big cat.”

“That’s the only rule?”

“That, and it has to be a Labrador, a golden retriever, a German shepherd, a boxer, or a bulldog.”

My heart thumped with joy in my chest as my lips said, “Oh my God, Benny, we need a bulldog named Churchill.”

I got the gentle look back and it came directly on the heels of the word “we,” but I couldn’t wallow in it because he stated, “We are not namin’ a bulldog Churchill. We get a bulldog, he’s named Gus.”

I screwed up my face. “That’s a boring name.”

He ignored that. “Lab, Charlie. Golden, Honey. Shepherd, Attila. Boxer, Bruno.”

Jeez, he had it all figured out.

“Those are all boring names, Benny,” I decreed, though Attila was kind of cool.

“You pick the dog, I pick the name,” he offered.

I shook my head. “No, you pick the dog, I pick the name.”

“Deal,” he said instantly.

Shit!

“No, wait, I wanna pick the dog!” I cried.

His lips turned up and he shook his head. “We had a deal.”

“We didn’t shake on it.”

Something changed in his face and I liked the change.

It also changed in his voice.

“Is that our gig? We make a deal, we shake on it?” he asked, his face getting closer to me.

“Yes,” I declared firmly.

His head veered at the last moment and his hand at my neck tightened as his face disappeared on the other side.

“We’ll shake on it later,” he said against my skin, then his mouth opened over it and I felt his tongue start gliding.

“Okay,” I agreed, suddenly breathless.

“Take your panties off, baby.”

“Okay,” I wheezed, totally breathless, shifting my hands to get my thumbs in the sides of my panties, thinking I was about to learn the meaning of what Ben said earlier about focus.

In short order, I found I was right.

I also found I liked Benny’s focus.

Definitely.

***

“Ben.”

“Yeah.”

“Ben.”

“Fuck yeah.”

I drove down on his cock and ground in, coming hard. Ben was sitting up while I rode him so my arms were tight around his shoulders.

I was finding with Ben, once I got there, he needed power. So he flipped me and gave me the power. His hips beat into mine, his face in my neck, one forearm in the bed, the other hand at my ass, tipping me up to take him deeper.

I slid both my hands to his ass and clenched in, holding on and coaxing at the same time.

He didn’t need my coaxing. It was Saturday night. He’d come home from the restaurant, woke me, felt energetic, and this was the culmination of a lot of hard work from Benny and me.

He drove deep and grunted his release against my neck, his hand at my ass clasping tight, fingers digging deep.

He didn’t give himself the chance to come down before he rolled us, still connected, so I was resting on top of him. Once there, he heaved a deep breath and kept his hand at my ass while he wrapped the other arm tight along my lower back.

I nuzzled my face in his neck and sighed.

Friday had been good. Ben took another night off work to be with me. So Benny, he took me out to dinner and a movie. Date night. Not Giuseppe’s, but it was still sweet.

That day, Saturday, we slept in. We lazed. We talked in whispers. We made love. Then Ben went to the restaurant and I camped out on his couch, watching TV, relaxing, trying to get to a place where I could accept the promise of a life that was what Benny seemed to be offering me.

Easy.

We’d agreed that my return would not be shared officially with the family (though it was certain Mrs. Zambino had been on her phone, so it was in no doubt this had happened unofficially) until I was ready.

I had a feeling Ben agreed to this to make certain my return took. But I didn’t ask. He wasn’t being cautious; he was all in. But I didn’t suspect my departure with Ben in close proximity of at least Theresa didn’t garner him some headaches. I could see him not wanting to court that again just in case I freaked, did something stupid, fucked up, and bailed.

“It gets too much, baby, you have my permission to give up on me.”

I said that against his neck. I didn’t think it before it came out. But what I’d been thinking before just made it come out.

When it did, Ben’s grip on me tightened momentarily before he rolled us again. He slid out while he did, but he ended full-out on top of me.

It was dark. When he came home and woke me to make love with me, he didn’t bother with a light.

Still, from moonlight and streetlight coming in through the windows, I could see the angles of his handsome face. I just couldn’t read them.

“Where’d that come from?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know,” I answered in a whisper.

“Where’d that come from, Frankie?” he repeated.

I slid my arms around him and held tight, feeling a curl of fear in my belly.

“I don’t know, honey.”

“It came from somewhere,” he noted.

“I know.”

“How do we get to that place so we can dig that out?”

“I don’t know.”

He went silent and I did too, holding tight to him, looking into his shadowed face.

Finally, he spoke, deep, easy, quiet, and sweet.

But what he said was scary.

“Okay, cara, I’ll be givin’ you a bunch of ‘I don’t knows.’ But then, for you, for me, for us, I’ll get to a place where I can’t give you them anymore. I cannot dig blind. You gotta show me where to put the shovel. And that’s gotta come from you, Frankie.”

“I know.”

And I did know. I just didn’t know how to find that place, and I didn’t want to get to the place where Ben got sick of me not knowing.

“So locate where you want me to put that shovel, baby,” he urged. “And while you’re searchin, do it knowin’ I’m at your side. That means, you need to talk, I’m here. You need to freak, I’m still here. Bottom line, I’m here.”

On the heels of his words, I felt the fear evaporate. I slid my hand up his back and into his hair, asking, “How’d you learn to be so awesome?”

“I got my eyes to the prize, honey.”

I slid my hand to his cheek, lifted up, and put my mouth to his.

Ben slanted his head and took it.

The kiss was deep, sweet, and easy.