Hold On(222)
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.
He then saw his wife’s purse on the bed.
He grabbed it and their key card.
After that, he walked out of their hotel room to help his wife round up their kids so they could meet up with Cal, Vi, and their brood and they all could go watch his nephew get married.
When they got that done, he could come back.
And celebrate with his wife.
* * * * *
Garrett
May, Four Years Later
“Serious as hell, brown eyes, someone should outlaw this shit.”
Cher turned to him and he lifted up, taking his mouth from her ear to catch her eyes.
Those brown eyes he loved were bright with unshed tears and she was also moving like she was about to throw up.
He knew she wasn’t going to vomit.
And she also wasn’t going to cry.
She might shed a tear but only if she didn’t manage to swallow back the laughter she was fighting.
Their chairs pulled close so he could throw his arm easily around the back of hers, he curled her to his side.
She made a choking noise.
He dipped his mouth again to her ear.
“Hold it in,” he muttered.
“You’re not helping, Merry,” she wheezed.
“You can’t bust a gut laughin’ during the best man’s speech. Especially at this wedding.”
“Just let me deep breathe,” she forced out.
“You’re not breathing at all.”
She turned and whacked him one on his arm.
He smiled down at her.
She glared at him.
That was one way to get her not to laugh.
He knew a better way, and to keep her from laughing, he employed it, leaning in and taking her mouth in a hard, sweet kiss.
When he was done, she lifted her hand and rested it on his neck, her thumb stroking his throat.
He kissed her nose.
She melted into him and turned in his arm, giving her attention back to the best man.
Garrett didn’t give his attention to the drunken best man, who was totally fucking up his speech.
He looked at the groom.
When he did, he saw Ethan looking at him.
Garrett held his boy’s eyes, grabbed his glass, and lifted it his way.