Hold On (Page 190)

“Love back to Dusty, Mandy, and Austin.”

“Right. Later, son.”

“Later, Dad.”

They disconnected.

Mike threw his phone on the counter.

Dusty snuggled closer.

“All good?” she asked.

“He sounds happy.”

His woman smiled.

“Really happy,” he whispered.

“Then it’s all good,” she whispered back.

He looked into her eyes.

She was happy too. Happy because she was happy, and happy because his son was.

“Love you, Angel,” he murmured.

“Yeah, gorgeous, it’s all good,” she replied and rolled up to her toes.

Mike took her mouth.

Their daughter Amanda at a friend’s house, their son Austin at basketball practice, the house was empty.

So after Mike took his wife’s mouth, he took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

Then he took something else.

* * * * *

Benny

December, Two Years Later

Benny turned to his wife, who was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, strapping on a high-heeled sandal.

“Come again?” he asked.

She tipped her head, her thick, dark hair sliding down her back, and gave him her eyes.

“That’s what Vi told me over coffee this morning.”

“Angie is dating Jack Colton,” Benny stated.

Frankie bent down to finish with her shoe, confirming, “Yeah. They live across the street from each other. They grew up together. They wrestled in the grass at barbeques when they were kids and they’ve been dancing around each other at parties with the grown-ups now for years. Vi didn’t miss it. I didn’t. No one did but Colt and Cal. It’s like Colt and Feb, part two. Except hopefully without the heartbreak.”

“She’s not old enough to date,” he told his wife’s bent head.

When she straightened and looked at him, she was grinning.

“She’s seventeen,” she reminded him.

“That’s not old enough,” Ben declared.

Francesca burst out laughing.

Then she pushed up from the bed and walked on her high-heeled shoes, in her skintight dress, his way.

Ben watched. Fuck, they’d been together seventeen years, she’d given him three kids, and still, watching his wife strut his way, he wanted to bag this wedding, put the do not disturb sign on the door, and spend the afternoon fucking his wife.

She fitted herself to his front.

And he wanted that even more.

He wrapped his arms around her and stopped thinking about his cousin’s daughter.

“How bad you wanna go to this wedding?” he asked.

Her eyes got hot, her face got soft, but her mouth said, “You miss your nephew’s wedding, Carm is gonna lose her mind.”

She would.

His sister would do that.

And they’d flown all the way to California to do this, so they should probably do it.

Frankie fiddled with his collar. “And you know, just on the heels of Violet’s news about Angie, you should prepare. Because Ales told me she has it on good authority from two sources that that Rio boy, who plays wide receiver on the football team, is gonna ask her out.”

Ales was his daughter.

Which meant he had a say.

So he said it.

“Ales definitely isn’t dating,” Ben declared.

“Baby, she’s fifteen.”

“Exactly. Way too young.”

Frankie smiled at him.

“And she’s absolutely not dating a kid named Rio. What the fuck kind of name is that?” he asked.

“I think it’s cool,” Frankie remarked.

“You’re wrong,” Benny returned.

She slid her hand to his neck, her lips tipped up. “You’re hot when you get all irrational-dad.”

“And you’re hot all the time. If you don’t stop touchin’ me, lookin’ like you do in that dress, with your tits pressed to me, we’re gonna be late to my nephew’s wedding.”

Her eyes dropped to his mouth.

“Can’t have that,” she murmured.

His hands dropped to her ass.

“Babe,” he warned on a squeeze.

She lifted her gaze.

“Let’s get the kids, make sure they haven’t torn apart their room, and go do this,” he said. “Ma and Pop’ll be cool with bringin’ the kids back. We’ll come back early and we’ll have our own celebration.”

“Works for me,” Frankie agreed.

Good.

They had a plan.

He bent in and touched his mouth to hers.

She lifted up on her toes and made the light kiss hard.

When she rolled back, she again caught his eyes. “Love you, Benny Bianchi.”

He gave her ass another squeeze, this one reflexive.

“Love you too, Frankie Bianchi.”

She smiled at him and moved out of his arms.

“Gotta grab my tie,” he told her, wanting to let go of his wife in order to grab a tie like he wanted water torture.

“I’ll start rounding up the kids.”

He watched her ass as she moved to the door.

Then he called, “Babe?”

She turned back to him.

“Not jokin’ about that Rio kid thing. Ales doesn’t date until the time is right,” he declared.

She gave him a look he felt in his dick.

“So hot when you’re all irrational-dad,” she whispered, then strutted to the door.

Fuck, Frankie would rally Ales, and with both his girls using their different ways, he was gonna cave.

Shit.

He got his tie.

He bunched it up and shoved it in his pocket, not about to put it on until he absolutely had to.