Kristen Ashley - The Promise

She dug her fingers in on her emphasized “do,” but Benny felt her words in his gut in a way he liked.

So he let it go.

Mostly.

“So, let me guess, you’ve talked to Chrissy,” he noted.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“How many times?”

Her eyes got squinty. “Twelve thousand seventy-three.”

He fought a grin, gave her a squeeze, and repeated, “How many times?”

Her eyes slid to the side before coming back to his. “Seven.”

“She doin’ okay?” he asked.

“Things are not great with Dad because she’s a little freaked he wasn’t there for me and she’s giving him another daughter, so it would stand to reason he won’t be there for my baby sister. But pregnancy-wise, she’s good.”

“Holdin’ on to anything you can in a way that you even grab on to new shit that’s gonna do your head in.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Whatever.”

When they rolled back, he held her gaze and made his point even clearer when he asked, “How’s Sal?”

She pressed her lips together.

“He still in touch?” Ben pushed.

She unpressed her lips to answer, “Actually, he phoned a while back, but it was the day Dad came calling, so I got lost in that and my newfound ability to give amazing blowjobs, so I forgot to mention it to you.”

Ben felt his body shake under hers at her comment about blowjobs, but it didn’t deter him from their conversation.

“And?” he prompted.

“And, well…the last time I was up there, I called so I could chat with Gina, maybe set up lunch with her. Gina answered, but she answered from Tuscany. They were in Italy on vacation.”

Ben did not like that.

“You hidin’ that shit from me?”

“No,” she returned immediately. “It was just that she wasn’t around for me to have lunch with, so since there was nothing to get into it with you about, I decided to avoid the hassle. If she’d have been around, I would have told you.”

If he was her, he’d also take that play so he relaxed.

“We’re eventually gonna have to have that conversation,” he noted.

Her eyes again slid to the side as she murmured, “We’re eventually gonna have to have a lot of conversations.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

Her eyes took their time coming back and he didn’t think she was giving it all to him when she declared, “My birthday is in three weeks.”

“Yeah, and you need to have your ass at my house when it comes.”

Her eyes got big again and she asked, “Really?”

“Meant to tell you, you gotta come up. Not me comin’ down. So do what you gotta do at work to make that happen.”

Her gaze grew alert and her head tipped to the side. “Why?”

“Benny and Frankie livin’ together in relative harmony, it comes to birthdays, Valentine’s day, anniversaries, and Christmas, you don’t ask questions.”

Her body relaxed into his and a smile lit her eyes before she said softly, “I can do that.”

“Benny and Frankie livin’ together in relative harmony, it comes to those days, we’re together. No work. No nothing. No excuses. You gotta travel for work, you plan trips around those days. And for that part, I’ll add Easter, Thanksgiving, and the Fourth of July.”

Her lips curved up as she stated, “I’ve finally stumbled on a time when I don’t mind you bein’ bossy.”

He grinned through his, “Shut up, Frankie.”

She dropped her head to touch her mouth to his and pulled back, declaring on a complete lie, “I’m back to a time when I mind you bein’ bossy.”

He grinned again and asked, “What we gonna watch?’

“You pick,” she offered.

“I pick, you can’t bitch.”

Her brows shot up. “What’s the point of givin’ up my pick if I can’t bitch about yours?’

Ben looked to the ceiling and sighed.

“All right, I won’t bitch,” she gave in and he looked back to her. “You want popcorn?”

“Yeah.”

“You queue up the movie, I’ll make the corn.”

“Deal.”

She smiled down at him, then dropped her head again but went low, touching her lips to his throat. Then she pushed up with her hands in the couch and angled off him.

After watching her ass in her tight skirt moving to the kitchen, he turned his attention to the TV, thinking that that conversation didn’t go too great. She didn’t back down from keeping people who treated her like shit in her life and maneuvered him so he’d let her.

At least he got her to agree to important holidays spent together.

It was something.

And with Frankie, he’d take it.

Then again, with Frankie, he’d take anything.

***

“I hate this,” Frankie whispered into his chest.

“Yeah, baby,” Benny whispered into the top of her hair.

He felt her draw in a deep breath and let it go. After that, she tipped her head back to look at him.

“You’ll call me when you get home?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, Benny.”

She lifted up in her heels and pressed her mouth to his.

He slanted his head, took it, and took his time doing it. He memorized her taste, the smell of her, the feel of her in his arms. Only when he had it etched deep so it could keep him going for weeks of being away from her did he let her go.

She gave him a squeeze, a smile she didn’t mean, and pulled out of his arms.

She bent and got her computer bag from the sidewalk where she’d dropped it, and Ben stood in front of her house and watched her walk to her Z.

She waved before she got in.

She waved as she reversed out.

And she waved as she drove away.

Ben watched her, doing it the whole time smiling.

And he watched until her car disappeared.

He moved only to walk down the sidewalk to look around her unit, then he stood there, eyes on the straight Indiana street that led to corn country one way and right into the heart of a city the other.

He did this no longer smiling.

And he thought this shit had to end—Frankie leaving him or him leaving Frankie. He was done with it three months ago.

But he knew it couldn’t end. She was good at what she did, she liked her job, and he loved her. He couldn’t fuck that for her.

So he had to be patient and wait for her to get to the time when she felt she could come to him and end this long-distance thing.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

And he didn’t.

Ben slammed the door on his truck and moved to the trailer that was removed from the noise and activity of the construction site.

He went up the two steps, pounded the side of his fist on the door twice, and heard a woman call, “Come in!”

He went in and saw a narrow space that was surprisingly tidy. Plans tacked to walls. Filing cabinets. A drafting board. A desk with a computer and phone that was covered in papers with a very pretty, dark-haired woman behind it wearing a dark blue polo with McCandless Construction stitched in white over her heart.

Her head lifted, her attractive face holding an expression that was not unwelcoming, but it was distracted.

Until she caught sight of him.

That was when Catarina Concetti Lugar declared, “We are not doin’ this.”

Not a good start.

Benny ignored that and walked further into the office, deciding to try to get them on track, even as he didn’t hold much hope he’d succeed, and he did this by greeting, “Hey, Cat.”

She did not greet him back. She ordered, “Ben, I’m at work. Just go.”

He shook his head and told her, “Your sister is worried about you. It’s her birthday tomorrow. She’s comin’ up tonight, I’ve been makin’ calls—calls you haven’t returned—so I thought I’d extend the invitation face-to-face. I’d like you and Art to come to the pizzeria for Frankie’s birthday party tomorrow night. More, it would make Frankie happy you were there.”

“I ignored your calls because me and Art aren’t gettin’ anywhere near that pizzeria,” she retorted.

And now it was getting worse.

“You wanna explain that to me?” he invited.

“Not really,” she refused.

“Do it anyway,” he ordered, holding her eyes.

She stared at him before she looked out the window, huffed out an annoyed breath, and gave him back her eyes. “My sister was shot,” she announced.

“I know. I was the one who carried her through the forest after that shit happened.”

“Yeah, I know. Frankie, up in the shit of another Bianchi,” she fired back.

Ben felt his skin start to itch, pissed that another of the Concettis brought that shit up. At the same time, he was wondering how in the fuck they couldn’t get their heads out of their asses and see why their sister would want to be part of a good, decent, loving family. Even so, she wasn’t the kind of woman to go about getting that with how they thought she was doing it. They had to know her better than that.

Then again, since they had their heads up their asses, and when they didn’t, they were all about themselves, he shouldn’t be surprised.

When he got control and spoke, he had to force his mouth to move but, in doing that, not to yell.

“I’m not feelin’ a lot of love for explainin’ anything to you, seein’ as your sister was in a hospital bed for a week and a half and you didn’t even call. Then she was recuperating at my house and you didn’t come ’round. But Francesca is worried about you. It’s her birthday. I want her to quit worryin’ and have what’s important to her on her special day. Not sure I agree with what’s important to her, seein’ as the majority of you Concettis treat her like shit, but it is so I’m here.”