The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(180)

“Barely know them?” Herb returned. “We don’t know them at all.” He then looked to Benny and asked, “Do you say ‘shit?’”

Benny didn’t answer. Instead, he asked, “Where’s Stark?”

Herb didn’t answer that. He looked to Sal and asked, “Do you say ‘shit?’”

“We’re done here,” Sal decreed.

Shit.

I wanted this to work. I wanted professionals to sort all this out so no one else got hurt, and I wanted it done quickly so Benny could go home, I could go with him, and we could start a normal life (or as normal as I could be).

Therefore, I quickly stuck a hand toward the woman. “Hey. I’m Frankie.”

She smiled at me, took my hand, and replied, “I’m Trish. Roxie’s mom. Do you know Roxie?”

“No,” I told her, giving her hand a squeeze.

She looked confused, muttering, “I thought you knew Roxie.”

I pulled my hand away as Herb stated, “Not everyone on the planet knows Roxie.”

She turned her gaze to him. “Well, Herb, they know Lee. If they know Lee, they might know Hank, and if they know Hank, they’ll know Roxie.”

“Did I say we’re done here, or did I go temporarily invisible?” Sal asked.

“This is Benny, my boyfriend,” I swiftly told Herb and Trish. “And this is Sal, my, uh…uncle.”

“Howdy!” Trish cried on a wave that took in the entire front of her body.

“Someone kill me,” Herb muttered.

“This is my husband, Herb,” Trish said, jerking her head to Herb. “He’s in a bad mood because he doesn’t wanna be here. He wants to be fishing.”

“Do you wanna be here?” Herb asked Benny. “Or would you rather be fishing?”

“If by ‘fishing’ you mean being anywhere but here, then yeah,” Benny answered.

“See?” Herb asked his wife.

She ignored him and invited, “Sit down. We’ll order you some of Frank’s world famous pancakes.”

I leaned into Benny and murmured, “I could eat some pancakes.”

He didn’t even look at me as he sighed heavily, then pulled out a chair for me to plant my ass in. So I did, Benny claiming the chair next to mine.

“This is unbelievable,” Sal muttered, moving to another seat.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Herb stated. “Me and my big mouth. Tell her I got somethin’ Lee wants me to do, she thinks it’s about our daughter, Roxie. How Lee translates to Roxie, I do not know. Then she horns in, even when I say Lee doesn’t need me anymore. If God didn’t frown on it, honest to Christ, I’d consider divorce.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” Trish snapped.

“Are you sittin’ somewhere you don’t wanna be with people you don’t know?” Herb snapped back.

“We do know them. It’s Frankie, Benny, and Sal,” she fired back.

Herb looked at Benny. “Pay close attention. She’s beautiful, your girl. So was Trish when I met her. She ain’t hard on the eyes now, but she’s a pain in my ass.”

“Herb!” Trish cried.

“What the f**k is goin’ on here?” a deep, rough voice sounded from behind us. I turned and caught sight of lean h*ps and a flat stomach barely disguised by a tight black t-shirt.

I looked up and up and up and stopped breathing.

That was because there was black-haired, kick-ass-mustached man standing behind me who could be nothing but a commando.

The hottest one in the universe.

And the scariest one.

He was scowling at Herb, saying, “I thought Lee relieved you of duty.”

“He did. Trish wanted pancakes,” Herb replied.

The commando tipped his head back and looked to the ceiling. My breath returned but only to come erratically, mostly because I could see his muscled throat and the underside of his strong jaw.

Yummy.

Then he told the ceiling, “Fuck me.”

“Lucas Stark! What would your mother say?” Trish remonstrated.

He tipped his chin down and leveled his eyes on her, and at the wrathful look in them, I stopped breathing again and fought against wetting my pants.

“You Stark?” Benny asked, fortunately taking Stark’s attention off Trish, and I could feel my man coming out of his chair.

“You Bianchi?” Luke Stark asked back after an affirmative nod.

Ben didn’t answer, but he did put out a hand.

Stark took it.

“Elaine! Can we get menus?” Trish called.

“Comin’ right up,” a waitress called back.

“I take it you’re Giglia,” Stark said, and I looked to Sal to see him up and giving Stark the once-over.

Sal also didn’t confirm his identity verbally. He just said, “At least you look serious.”

I didn’t know whether to moan or whimper when Stark replied inflexibly in his rough voice, “I am. Very serious.”

It was then Stark looked to me and his features softened.

Definitely moan-worthy.

“You’re Francesca,” he stated and, luckily, I was.

I stuck out a hand. “Yeah. Frankie.”