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, holding 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.