Chapter 140

“What?” I ask, sitting up straight a little, not understanding. What does Frankie mean, it wasn’t the same? Lucy picked Tony, and now I’m married to Christian! Of course it was the same!

Frankie drops his hand to the couch and shakes his head at me. “Listen, Bambina, I know that we’re doing this whole ‘pretend we’re not talking about it’ thing, but if I can be blunt for…five seconds?”

I blush, because frankly that game was making me feel better, but I nod, letting him continue.

“Then, while I have the chance, just let me say…it’s not the same. What happened with Lucy and I? It is…not at all what happened with me and you. So don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes,” he smirks here as my blush deepens, “and feel all guilty putting yourself in the same box as her. Okay?”

“Frankie,” I sigh, shaking my head, leaning forward. “How can it not be the same!?”

“Five seconds are up, Bambs,” he says, one corner of his mouth turning up as he lets his eyes fall to my own lips. “Just…leave it there. And don’t put yourself in the same crew.”

“But –“

“Is there any desert!?” Frankie says, slapping his hand hard against his thigh as he stands up suddenly, pitching his voice loud to deliberately drown out my questions as he turns towards the kitchen.

I scowl and look after him, peering at him over the top of the couch as he moves into the kitchen and starts to look around for something sweet to eat. I sigh inwardly, desperate to know what he’s talking about but…

Well.

We’re also…getting a bit into dangerous territory, aren’t we?

And as a woman newly married to a rather dangerous man…maybe Frankie is right. Maybe it’s best if we just…leave it behind.

“There’s pudding,” I call softly. “In the fridge?”

Frankie shoots me an appreciative grin as he heads over to the refrigerator, pulling it open and filling the kitchen with its soft yellow light. “Please, please tell me its chocolate…” he calls, reaching in for the little white bowl.

“Of course it is,” I say, half to myself on a sigh, because it is chocolate. Frankie’s favorite. I made it for him, so of course it’s chocolate. “Bring the hot sauce,” I call, turning back to the TV show and slumping back against the couch. “We can test your theory.”

I hear Frankie laugh and then the rattling of the silverware drawer as he gets us some spoons. And as I wait for my friend to bring the desert into the living room, I tip my glass of wine into my mouth, drink it all down, and pour myself another.

Things feel different the next morning, and I don’t know why. Maybe it was the dark, and the warm intimacy of knowing that we were all alone in the house with no one to listen in, but now in the cold light of day?

Frankie is again my funny friend who cracks jokes while I squeeze orange juice and make waffles. And I let him be that, easily falling into our old routine of friendship – the only route we have, the one we’re on. And as the morning passes peacefully with a great deal of laughter, I find myself grateful for it.

Grateful for my friend who is sworn to protect me – me and my husband both.

We both look eagerly towards the door when we hear the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway.

“Yesss,” Frankie says, jumping to his feet and dashing for the window, peering out. We didn’t hear a word from Nico and Christian all night – and quite frankly, I had started to get nervous.

“Are they both there?” I gasp, eager, likewise standing.

Frankie sends me a smile over his shoulder. “Both there, both intact,” he says, striding for the door.

“I’ll get the coffee started!” I call cheerfully, moving for the coffee machine and pulling down two mugs as Frankie moves steadily outside, eager to meet his buddies and get the news.

I pull the carafe off of the heating plate but barely have time to pour two cups of black coffee before I hear heavy footsteps behind me and spin, suddenly worried –

But I just gasp when Christian sweeps me up into his arms, holding me tight against his chest with one arm firm beneath my rear, lifting me completely off the floor. He laughs and then brings his face immediately to mine, kissing me with a soundness and an intensity that rather takes my breath away.

Christian – he kisses me like a soldier who’s been away at war for a year, who hasn’t heard from his sweetheart in months. Kisses me like he never thought he’d see me again, like he’s dreamt of this moment for years and years.

The result is…dizzying. When he pulls away – just an inch – a few moments later, I blink, my mind unsteady as I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning close, kind of wanting more.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, shaking his head at me and then pressing a series of quick kisses to my mouth that make me laugh. “Let’s not do that ever again – let’s be that horrible couple that never leaves each other’s sides –“

I laugh, leaning back a little, wanting to see his beautiful face. “You’re okay?” I ask, placing a hand on his cheek, admiring the new stubble that comes from apparently staying up all night and not getting a chance to shave before you jump in the car and drive right to the store.

“I’m fine,” he assures me, kissing me again, hugging me close like he has absolutely no plans to ever put me down.

“All right, enough,” Nico’s voice rings out, exhausted. “Not only are you being disgusting, you’re also blocking the coffee.”

I laugh and turn to grin at Nico, keeping my arms looped around Christian’s neck. “Hi Nico, glad you’re not dead,” I say with a sigh.

“Thank you, donna,” he murmurs, giving me an indulgent smirk as he walks over and gives Christian a little shove on the shoulder so that he stumbles out of the way of the coffee, taking me with him.

Christian laughs and easily regains his feet, nudging my nose with his. “I’ll take a shower?” he says, “and then we’ll tell you everything?”

“Nooo,” I moan, pouting deliberately. “I like you scruffy. Just tell us now.”

“Nah,” he says, smiling and putting me down on my feet. “For the sake of my reputation, shower first. Report second. Plus, I want a chance to get some of that caffeine in my veins before I fill you and Frankie in.” He nods over to his coffee.

I sigh and let him go, giving his arm a fond squeeze as he grabs his coffee and strides for the bathroom. Then I turn back to the kitchen and am a little startled to find Nico’s eyes on me, assessing, as he takes a long sip of his coffee.

“What now?” I ask, frowning and crossing my arms.

“Here,” Nico says, pulling a little pharmacy bag out of his pocket and tossing it onto the counter. I frown, and then pick it up, and gasp when I realize that it’s a prescription for 28-day birth control with my name on it.

“Nico!” I protest, picking it up and clutching it to my chest. “This is personal!”

“Personal or not,” Nico snaps, laughing a little as he takes another sip of his coffee. “You’re going to start taking that. Today.”