The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(66)

Seeing as I hadn’t moved, when Ben made it to me, his expression was set firm at concerned.

He lifted a hand, again curled it around the side of my neck, and he asked, “Babe, you okay?”

I looked right into his eyes and stated, “You searched forty-five minutes to find a password for me, makin’ yourself late, doin’ that shit for me.”

A new expression moved over his face and his fingers dug in lightly when he replied, “I see I scored with that, so it’s a hit to share that I did it so you can get on your laptop, but I also did it ’cause it’d suck the router went down or some shit, and I’d need it to get my TVs back online and didn’t know the password. So I also did it for me.”

He gave that to me straight-up honestly, not milking something he did for himself to score a point with me.

Yet another expression shifted over his features as he watched whatever expression shift over mine before he murmured, “See I scored with that too.”

“You grew up, Benny Bianchi,” I whispered, and that was when soft and sweet took over his expression, even as his hand at my neck pulled me closer.

“Way you made things easy on Manny today, more proof added to a pile you’ve been givin’ me that you did too, Frankie Concetti,” he whispered back.

“Yeah, but I like the way you did it.”

At that, he gave me surprised satisfaction before his eyes went dark in a way that made my heart race. His hand at my neck pulled me even closer, this time while his head bent to mine.

Then he kissed me. Not a sweep of the tongue, not a hot make out session where I ended up pressed to a wall. But it was deep, it was wet, it was long, and it was amazing.

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Would kill to take that further, but I gotta get to work.”

Yes.

He grew up.

And I liked the way he did.

“You got someone comin’ to keep you company?” he asked.

“Yeah. My girl, Jamie.”

“Good. You two need dinner, call my cell. I’ll send one of the kids with a pie or some rigatoni casserole or whatever.”

The Bianchi rigatoni casserole. Second best to a Bianchi pizza pie, and there were some who (wrongly) would argue it was better.

Jamie needed some of that.

So did I.

“Thanks, Ben,” I whispered.

“Anytime, baby,” he whispered back.

It was me who went up to my toes to touch my mouth to his.

When I rocked back to my heels, he was grinning.

I returned it.

He took that in, his eyes dropping to my mouth to do it, before they came back to mine and he remarked, “I take it you didn’t test the password.”

I shook my head.

His hand swayed me slightly toward the living room when he ordered, “Get on that, honey. I gotta go, but if I gotta talk to Tony, I gotta go.”

“Right,” I murmured and broke from his hold to go to the living room.

The password written on the paper was one digit off the one Benny gave to me. It didn’t end in BB but in BAB, all of his initials. Benito Alessandro Bianchi.

And it worked.

* * * * *

I felt arms tighten around me and the haze of sleep lifted, slightly.

When it did, I felt a whole lot more, that being Benny’s body shifting into mine as he shifted mine to his.

I tilted my head back, opening my eyes, and through the dark I saw Benny.

Half asleep, my belly still did a dip.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he whispered.

“The night good?” I muttered sleepily.

“The usual insane. Now it’s over. Go back to sleep.”

“Thanks for sending the casserole. Jamie loved it,” I told him, my voice fading.

“You need food anytime, I’ll feed you. Now go back to sleep, honey.”

I dipped my chin, pressed my face into his throat, and mumbled, “Okay, Benny.”

He gave me a squeeze.

I moved to drape an arm over his waist and I gave him one back.

Then I did as told and went back to sleep.

Chapter Nine

You Aren’t Easy

My hands on the steering wheel of my Z, I was aiming her toward Vinnie and Benny’s Pizzeria.

And I was freaking out.

It was the first time I was behind the wheel of my car since I’d driven it to Hart’s house, following the car Hart’s goons had Vi in.

But that wasn’t the reason I was freaking out.

It had been three days since the first day Benny and me tried on the idea of Benny and me to see how it fit.

Since it fit really well, the last three days had been good.

I was definitely healing. I was getting around more, getting exhausted less, and the pain had gone from occasionally sharp and sometimes aching to randomly nagging.

This meant that I’d managed to get a lot done the last three days. Cleaning up my email and making arrangements with my clients to move them to new representatives. Gabbing with friends to let them know I was good and getting caught up with them.

And the last two mornings I went out with Mrs. Zambino on her power walks, which she took the “power” out of in deference to me, but still, the walks felt good. Getting out, moving, getting fresh air in my lungs, and getting a kick out of Mrs. Zambino, who was good company in a crotchety, know-it-all, old lady kind of way.