The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(7)

“We’ll get you fightin’ fit again, baby,” he promised me, deep and easy.

We would, but that being the royal “we.”

I didn’t share that.

I took in a deep breath and let it out.

Benny held my hand and he did this a long time. In fact, he did it until he had to let it go to hit the garage door opener on his visor. I opened my eyes when he let me go and I watched him do it. Then I watched him pull into his garage.

Time to instigate Operation Drake.

I did well, even allowing Ben to lift me out of the vehicle and carry me into his house and up the stairs.

My plan fell apart when he carried me into his bedroom.

It went up in smoke when he bent to lay me on his bed.

As he was removing his arms, I caught hold of his wrist.

His eyes came to mine.

He now had his glasses shoved into his hair. No man could shove his glasses up into his hair and look that hot. But Benny could.

God…so…freaking…totally hated me.

“Why am I in your bedroom?” I asked.

“’Cause you need a nap.”

“I can nap in one of the other bedrooms.”

He grinned.

Torture!

“Babe, got shit in my second bedroom,” he shared. “Packed with it. Can barely move, there’s so much shit in there.”

“How do you have so much shit?” I pressed. “You’re a single guy. Single guys don’t accumulate shit.”

“I’m the commissioner of the Little League.”

I stared at him.

Please do not tell me that Benito Bianchi, in a volunteer capacity during the summers, hung on his free time with a bunch of baseball-playing little boys.

But I knew this could be true. First, Vinnie’s Pizzeria sponsored a Little League team every year and had for the last thirty years. Second, Vinnie Junior, Benny, and Manny had all played Little League, then went on to play high school baseball (Vinnie, catcher; Benny, first base; Manny, pitcher). And third, that was something Ben would do because he was a decent guy.

“Season ended, storage space costs when we could use the money for things for the boys, so all their shit is now packed in my second bedroom,” he finished.

“Then put me in your third bedroom.”

“That’s my office.”

This surprised me. “You have an office?”

Another grin. Another indication I was not God’s favorite person. Then, “No. It’s the place where Pop’s old desk is collectin’ dust. Carm’s old computer is collectin’ dust with it. And the rest of the space is packed with the rest of the Little League shit.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Then I can nap on your couch.”

His face got hard. “You ain’t sleepin’ on my couch.”

“Ben—”

“You’re recovering from a gunshot wound.”

“I know that.”

“So you’re not sleepin’ on my couch.”

“For God’s sake, it won’t kill me.”

He ended that particular conversation with, “Nonnegotiable.”

It was at that point I wondered why I was fighting him. Sure, lying in Benny’s bed in Benny’s house, which had the unusual but unbelievably appealing scent of his spicy aftershave mixed with pizza dough clinging to the air, was a thrill I wished I did not have. But he was going to the pharmacy soon and that thrill would be short-lived.

So I shut up.

Ben looked at my mouth.

I swallowed.

Then Benny lifted away and moved around the bed.

He took something from the nightstand opposite and tossed it on the bed beside me. “Ma’s already been here fillin’ the fridge and sortin’ shit. She bought you those.”

I stared at the magazines lying beside me on the bed.

There were a bunch of them and Theresa didn’t mess around. They were all the good ones: juicy, like People and Us, and slick, like Vogue and Marie Claire.

Theresa so knew me.

I swallowed again just as a remote bounced on the magazines.

“TV,” Ben stated and I looked up at him. “Got HBO. Got Showtime. It’s a smart TV. Universal remote. Just hit the screen to get to the smart TV and you can get Netflix. Should keep you occupied ’til you nod off while I’m at the drugstore.”

I looked in the direction of the TV and saw it was at least a sixty-incher.

What human being needed a sixty-inch TV in their bedroom?

This made me wonder what size TV he had in his living room.

As I was wondering this, Benny was rounding the bed again. “Like I said, Ma’s stocked the fridge, but while I’m out, you want me to pick up anything?”

If I knew Theresa, there would not be one thing anyone on the block needed that would be lacking in Benny’s fridge.

However, this was a golden opportunity to buy more time.

Especially if I sent him to more than just the drugstore.

“Tapioca pudding,” I declared.

He stopped at my side of the bed and looked down at me. “Say again?”

“Tapioca pudding. Not the snack-pack size. The big tub.”

He stared at me.

I scrambled to think of more shit he could buy.

“And a trashy romance novel. I don’t care which one, but the less the guy on the cover is wearing, the better. Tattoos are a plus. Leather is another plus. And if there’s an indication that he’s a shifter, buy the whole series.”