It wasn’t a healthy thought. It wasn’t even rational, considering my frame of mind about all things Benny and me.
But I had it.
I beat it back, but just barely.
“You said you wouldn’t kiss me until Monday,” I reminded him, and his eyes opened.
“I didn’t know that on Sunday I’d get that dress.”
“I really don’t do jeans,” I shared.
“Just sayin’, tesorina, I’ll wanna kiss you, even if you’re in jeans.”
“I’m getting that sense,” I muttered, my gaze drifting to his lips.
“Baby,” he called, and I again focused on his eyes. “That picture.”
With those two words, I was torn painfully out of my happy just-been-kissed-by-Benny-Bianchi zone and thrown into my usual zone. A zone I didn’t like much normally, but hated right then.
I dropped my chin and pressed my forehead to his chest, saying, “Don’t.”
“You were mine, even when you were his.”
He was right. It was whacked. It didn’t even make sense.
But I’d always loved Benny. We were tight. We got along. Of all Vinnie’s family, I was closest with Benny. It made me happy being around him.
I was Vinnie’s, but with each passing week as Vinnie did stupid shit, I was also drifting away.
And I was Benny’s. Then when we lost Vinnie, I fucked up and he pushed me away.
I closed my eyes tight and slid my hands down to his chest, curling my fingers in his tee.
“I gotta say this.” He was speaking into my hair.
“I’m not ready.”
His fingers at my neck gave me a squeeze. “This has to be said, cara. I get you’re vulnerable right now. That kiss came as a surprise…to both of us…but what I gotta say isn’t about that.”
“What do you gotta say?”
“I’m pissed at him.”
That was such a surprise, I tipped my head back and looked into his eyes. “What?”
“Vinnie. I’m pissed at him. Spent years pissed at you so I wouldn’t feel the way I feel right now about my brother. I look at that picture…” He shook his head. “What came back raw, after seein’ it clear what I did to you, why I did it, so I wouldn’t feel how I’m feelin’ about him right now…I look at that picture and I’m fuckin’ pissed he didn’t feel what I felt when we took that photo—Christmas, family, laughin’—and know he had everything in his life he needed.”
I let his tee go and my hands slid right back up to curl around his neck, hating every word he said, at the same time, but for a different reason, loving them.
And he was sharing. Honest. Putting it right out there.
It was my experience not a lot of men shared—not about their feelings, certainly not what was behind them. Vinnie hadn’t. He bottled everything up. He never talked to me about important shit, which meant I never understood when he did stupid shit.
Benny sharing touched me…deep.
Digging in there…deeper.
“Ben,” I whispered.
“Should have my ass kicked, not givin’ this emotion to him at the time. But I didn’t. So, not only did it mean I fucked up and hurt you, it feels like I lost him all over again.”
I held on tighter and got up on my toes to get close and kept whispering when I said, “Honey. Stop.”
“How?” he asked.
I didn’t have a clue.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But there’s no purpose to you being pissed, Benny. He’s gone. You can’t change anything.”
“I know that, babe, and it doesn’t help.”
“Then how’s this?” I went on. “You get it. You get what’s in that picture is everything in life you need. And Vinnie making that lesson clear, you’ll never forget it. It sucks how he gave you that lesson, Ben, but at least he gave you something and you cannot deny it was important.”
He held my eyes as his hand at my waist slid up and he started idly stroking my side.
It felt nice. Casual. Natural. Benny.
And the ground under my feet continued to rock.
I just didn’t care.
“She’s sweet, spicy, and smart,” he muttered, his lips tipping up slightly, his words and the lip tip telling me he was letting go of the heavy.
I gave a slight shrug.
“That was a great Christmas,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” I agreed just as quietly.
“Miss those cookies you make, the ones with the dough around the Hershey’s Kisses.”
“Chocolate-filled snowballs.”
“Yeah.”
Yeah.
Oh yeah.
I knew he liked them. I knew this because, if he heard word I was making them, he was over, sitting on a stool at the bar, shooting the shit with me while I made them. And he’d also eat them warm, the second I finished rolling them in powdered sugar and putting them in the tin.
And I knew right then this was why I made them every year.
Two batches.
Sometimes three.
I was so going to hell.
“We’re connected,” he pointed out the obvious.
“I know.”
“I want us more connected, baby.”
“I know,” I repeated softly.
“Can you kiss me like that and then think you can convince me you don’t wanna go there with me?”
I closed my eyes and dropped my chin again to put my forehead to his chest.
Benny kept at me.
“I know I’m pushin’, cara, but seriously.”
“Can we talk about it at dinner tomorrow?”
He was silent and he was that way awhile.
So I breathed a sigh of relief when he gave me a squeeze and said, “Yeah.”
I tipped my head back and, again, slid my hands down to his chest. “They’ll be here soon and we need Fanta.”
“Babe, they’re comin’ up from Brownsburg with two teenaged girls. Teenagers don’t get out of bed on a Sunday at the crack of dawn and it’s a four-hour drive. They won’t be here until noon, earliest. We got an hour and a half, at least.”
I felt my brows draw together. “Cal didn’t text you to let you know when they’d left?”
My question made him smile huge. It was white. It was gorgeous. And it made his eyes warm with humor in that way I liked so much.
Witnessing that up close and personal for the first time, I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his middle and hold on.
“I’m not sure Cal does the text thing, Frankie. More, I’m not sure it’s humanly possible for Cal to check in with anybody about any of his activities.”
“He’ll have to learn. He has a woman in his life.”
His smile stayed white and gorgeous, and even as I felt the ground quake beneath me, I kept right on enjoying it up close and personal.
“Strike that,” he stated. “I’m not sure it’s humanly possible for Cal to check in with anybody about any of his activities unless that anybody is in his bed and he likes what she gives him there.”
My eyes drifted to his ear. “This is probably true.”
Ben gave me a squeeze and regained my attention.
“You got everything you need in that bag?” he asked.
“Yep,” I answered.
“Now’s the time to stock up, babe. We’re here.”
“I’m stocked up.”
“Right,” he said, then bent in and went deep. I held my breath and kept holding it when he brushed his lips against my neck.
I also kept holding on because I had to in order to stay standing.
Then I had to let him go because he let me go. He moved away but caught my hand, the handle of my bag, and he pulled me to the door, rolling my bag with us, saying, “We get home, I’ll clean out a drawer in the bathroom.”