The Promise (The 'Burg #5)(91)



Ben grinned bigger because he knew he was right, then he dipped his head even closer and took a Benny-style final moment—hand on my ass in O’Hare and everything.

I didn’t mind. I liked it. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was way better than my idea.

He broke the kiss and ordered, “Call me when you get in.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to Man, schedule back-to-back nights so I can take a trip down.”

“Okay.”

“Check your schedule and sort a time when you dip into those frequent flier miles.”

My arms around his shoulders, I gave him a squeeze, smiling up at him and trying not to laugh since we’d been through this already.

Then I said, “Okay, Benny.”

His face changed. I liked the change just as I hated it because it told me how much he was going to miss me, mirroring my same feelings.

“Fuckin’ thrilled you healed the breach, Frankie.”

“Me too, Benny.”

His eyes warmed even further.

Then he bent his head, touched his mouth to mine, and said there, “Go, baby.”

I pressed my lips together, nodded, gave him another squeeze, and let him go.

Eight times through security, I looked back, waved, made faces, and blew kisses.

Every time I looked back, Ben was standing there, arms crossed on his chest, grinning at me.

The last time I looked back, I was through security and heading toward the concourse.

And Ben was still standing there, grinning at me.

Chapter Fourteen

And Fast

For the three thousandth time that evening, I heard a car, went to my window, and looked out.

Three thousand was the golden number. I knew this when I saw the car outside was Benny’s Explorer.

This meant I ran to the door of my apartment, threw it open and dashed out, racing straight to Ben, who’d managed in that time to angle out of his SUV.

I didn’t slow. I hit him on the fly, arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his hips. He went back on a foot on impact, but I only vaguely noticed. This was because I bent my head and laid a wet one on him.

One arm around my back, one under my ass, he let me.

In order to breathe, I eventually had to lift my head.

But when I did, I smiled big down at him and said, “Hey, baby. Welcome to Brownsburg.”

He smiled back, gave me a squeeze, and replied, “Think it’s safe to say you’re happy to see me.”

“Two weeks is too long,” I returned.

“Yeah,” he said, still smiling. “Now, do I gotta carry you in and haul my ass back out here to get my shit, or are you gonna let go so I can take one trip?”

“I suppose I’ll let go,” I told him.

I said it, but I didn’t let go.

Ben waited.

I held on and kept grinning at him.

After this went on awhile, Ben started laughing but hefted me up a smidge, his signal he was done with my game.

It was then it hit me he’d been on the road for hours so I should get him inside, get him a beer, and get him fed. Once I got all that accomplished, I’d get something else out of him, and not out on the street.

I loosened my limbs and he put me on my feet. But he immediately grabbed my hand and used it to adjust my position in order to open the back door of his truck. He nabbed his bag, slammed the door, and moved with me to my opened apartment door.

He did this looking around, and we were on the curvy path that led to my place when he looked down at me and noted, “This place is the shit, babe.”

It was. The Brendal apartment complex in Brownsburg. Steep rent, but the landscaping was amazing. It was kept clean, had security, was gated, had top-of-the-line everything, and each floor plan for each unit was different, but differently awesome.

I had a two-bedroom floor-level unit. It was designed and landscaped so the front was shaded and mostly hidden, the entryway to the door was an alcove shrouded in ivy and tucked under the upstairs apartment. The inside had views from its windows at the dining/kitchen area to the pool, the bedrooms to some now-fallow cornfields, and the living room led into a not insubstantial courtyard that had plenty of space for a couple lounge chairs and a two-seater patio table, which I’d arranged around my own personal two-tiered fountain.

I loved it. It was awesome. Removed from the town proper, thus quiet, but close to all its amenities, a nearly straight shot to work, and well kept. It was the best apartment I’d ever had.

“Wait until you see the courtyard,” I told Benny.

He looked down at me before he used my hand to shove me through my front door.

I pulled free as he closed the door, dropped his bag, and looked around.

I took two steps in, turned, and asked him, “Beer before tour, or tour before beer?”

Ben quit taking in the open space that consisted of a curved living/dining/kitchen area and his eyes came to me.

Not looking, he tossed his keys on the little tile-topped table I had by the door and replied, “Tour.”

“Okay.”

“Of the bedroom,” he went on, and a tremble ran along my inner thighs.

Apparently, the drive down hadn’t tuckered Benny out.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Immediately,” Ben finished.

I stared into his eyes.

Then I turned and walked quickly to my bedroom.

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