The Worst Best Man(61)

“Can we please, for the love of God, act like regular people for one afternoon?” Frankie screeched. She turned to Aiden. “I wish I could say they don’t usually act like this. But this is the family that got permanently banned from an Applebee’s on Atlantic Avenue.”

Aiden squeezed her shoulder and stepped in. “Mrs. Baranski, thank you for inviting me to join you today.” He wielded the flowers and wine like they were a shield that would keep the little Italian woman at bay.

“Oh, my! What a gentleman,” May sighed in approval. “So very nice. Why don’t you boys ever bring your mother flowers?” she asked, admiring the lilies and managing to lay a guilt trip at the same time.

Gio and Marco spouted excuses that earned them both a cuff to the back of the head.

“Mr. Baranski,” Aiden began, “Gio brought some sandwiches to Franchesca’s this week. He said they came from your deli. Best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

Hugo puffed out his chest in pride. “It’s all in the meat. You’ve got good taste in sandwiches. You’re okay by me.” He immediately returned his attention to the TV.

Frankie rolled her eyes. “Welcome to the sixth circle of hell,” she whispered.

Aiden winked. “Wait until you meet my family.”





Chapter Thirty-Two


“It’s so good that you met Frankie when you did,” May was saying as she helped herself to another glass of wine. “Her eggs are only a few years from drying up.”

“Ma!” Frankie looked more annoyed than aghast. “Would you shut up about my eggs? We literally just started dating. Aiden could be an axe-murdering clown.”

“He’s not an axe-murdering clown!”

“How do you know?”

“He brought flowers and wine. Clowns don’t have manners like that.” It appeared that no one could argue with May Baranski’s logic, Aiden decided.

“I appreciate your faith in my character, Mrs. Baranski.”

“Call me, Ma.”

“Ma!” Franchesca covered her face in her hands, and Aiden hid his laugh behind his beer. “Why don’t you just write him into your will already?”

“As soon as there’s a ring on your finger, I will,” May challenged with a stubbornness that had clearly been passed down to her daughter.

“So, Aiden. What do you do?” Hugo’s attention span had expanded since The Price is Right had ended.

Frankie gripped his thigh under the table. She was sending him a silent message, but unfortunately for her, it was intercepted by his cock.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of beer. “I’m in business, too.”

When she snorted next to him, Aiden brought his hand to the base of Frankie’s neck and squeezed.

To him, a business was a business no matter how many employees or office buildings it laid claim to. Frankie’s father wanted to be his own boss and provide a service for the community. Aiden could appreciate and respect that.

“Dad, Aiden is COO of Kilbourn Enterprises” Frankie explained. She didn’t sound like she was bragging. She sounded like she was apologizing.

Marco whistled. “Damn. You own entire city blocks downtown.”

May’s eyes widened and she reached for her wine glass. “Franchesca, may I see you in the kitchen?”

Aiden and Frankie shared a glance.

“All the food’s already on the table, Ma,” Frankie pointed out.

“Now.” May’s tone left no room for arguing.

Aiden felt the dull throb of the headache that Frankie had promised him begin in the base of his skull. Here it comes, he thought. There wasn’t a mother in the world whose eyes wouldn’t light up at the thought of her daughter landing a Kilbourn.

Frankie squeezed his thigh and followed her mother into the kitchen.

“What in the hell have you gotten yourself into?” May Baranski yelled from the confines of the kitchen.

“Uh, Ma likes to think the kitchen is soundproof,” Gio said.

“You’re probably going to want another beer,” Marco predicted.

“You might as well get us a round,” Hugo sighed. “Sorry, Aiden.”

“Should I go in there?” Rachel wondered.

Marco’s arm landed on her shoulders. “It would be a danger to the baby, believe me.”

“Gotten myself into? What the hell, Ma?” Frankie yelled back.

“He’s a millionaire,” May said. “You can’t handle a husband like that.”

“I hate to break it to you, Ma, but you probably have to change that ‘m’ to a ‘b,’ and I’m not looking for a husband. He’s a nice guy. We’re having a good time.”

No one in his entire life had described him as a “nice guy.”

“You’re thirty-four years old, Franchesca. Just how long are you going to wait to settle down?”

“Until I find the right guy, Ma! Not all of us get lucky and find our soulmate in junior high.” Apparently, Frankie thought the kitchen was soundproofed too.

“He’s from another world! You can’t expect to be an equal partner in that relationship!” May shouted.

“Ma! Do you think there’s any man on the planet I’d let treat me like less than?” Frankie demanded.